And right now, despite all the mess he’d managed to make, the mess they were now going to try to clean up, and the mess that his family made, it seemed magic still had a way of coming through. Looking at Kira, at her happiness, he was happy to be a part of it.
“I still think I can make it better,” she was saying. “I get that initial snap when you bring it out, but it doesn’t last! Tempering issucha bitch.”
“It’syourbitch, though,” Gabriel assured her, licking bits of melted dark chocolate on his fingers. Santi concurred with a nod, still savoring the little square he’d managed to purloin before they handed the tub to Sari. God, this stuff was addicting. Not that he ever stood any chance against Kira’s chocolate.
“Also, shh, the chocolate will hear you,” Sari chided Kira, covering the top of the tub with her hand. “Is this the chocolate you’re selling to Chloe Agila?”
Santi inhaled sharply, lest the feelings that bubbled up in his chest accidentally burst out of him, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing? But he was just so damn proud of Kira, for never being afraid of what her business threw at her, for doing things her way. He wanted to do everything he could to help her, to make sure that she was happy in this thing that clearly made her so happy.
Love just didn’t seem to encompass how he felt for her. Neither did the word “girlfriend.” (Wife, maybe, but that was another thing entirely.)
“Not this,” Kira chortled, shaking her head, and Santi gave in to the urge to reach for her hand in front of her friends, because he could, because he wanted to. He squeezed it, and saw the little blush that appeared on Kira’s cheeks, which made him smile. “There’s still a lot of things to hammer out with the collective, but I think I want to keep this chocolate just us for now. I can do that now.”
Lightness had surrounded Kira ever since the board meeting. Santi wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was jealous of the happiness she’d managed to achieve, the realization that she’d done enough, that she could keep on doing what she enjoyed, with all its heartaches and impossible-to-temper-ness.
“By the way, I’ve been thinking about what you can do with your retained earnings,” Santi said. “Now that you’re seeing a profit, you can set a percentage aside, grow that, and then reinvest it in something your family might find worthwhile. Like set up a scholarship fund, or a small business loan.”
Kira’s face lit up at the thought. “Santi, that’s amazing! I have to pitch it, but—”
“Hoy hoy hoy, lovers and do-gooders, Wonder Boy and Choco Girl,” Gabriel said, successfully grabbing a square from the tub in Sari’s hands, grinning at his girlfriend’s mock indignation.Wonder Boy?
“Choco Girl?” Kira snorted. “Boo.”
“Okay, okay.” Gabriel admitted defeat. “We can save the world later. I thought we were supposed to be figuring out how to rescue Wonder Boy’s hotel from the clutches of his evil family?”
Santi tilted his head slightly as he considered that. One would think that he would be offended that his friend was calling his family evil, but oddly enough, he felt...okay with it. His family was what they were.
Was he still terrified he would end up like them? Of course. But he really was trying not to be. He was going to have to make peace with the facts that had presented themselves, which were the following:
1. His family loved him. They really did, or else they wouldn’t claim to need him as much as they did.
2. But that didn’t mean that it was enough. They just loved other things more. And that was okay. That was their problem, not his.
3. Santi had found the kind of love he needed somewhere else. Here.
4. And he was going to make damn sure every day that he would make his family here feel loved. That they would never doubt how important they were to him.
He felt the squeeze of Kira’s hand, and he gave her a soft smile back. There was no doubt about it. He belonged here with her, with the place that welcomed him back, the place that made him feel valued in a way that he could give.
Now if only they could figure out how things were going to be settled. After Santi left Vito’s office, his grandfather sent a letter saying that Santi was no longer allowed on the Villa premises. And no matter what Chloe said, Santi wasnothappy about Gemini losing the contract to Villa because of his grandfather’s pettiness. Emotionally manipulating Santi was one thing; deliberately harming someone else’s business was another.
And, because he was petty, and extra bitter, he didnotwant Villa to end up with the Santillans. Not to mention his Lally would kill him if it did.
“What’s your end goal, Santi?” Sari asked, still cradling the slowly diminishing tub of chocolate as Gabriel served fresh-from-the-upstairs oven pan de sal, along with this incredible (if he did say so himself, and he did) dip thing Santi made of smoked tinapa with cream cheese and ebiko. There was also a carafe of dalandan juice, and water, and really, did you need anything else? “What are we trying to achieve here?”
Santi looked at the spread of food, at his friends passing around the warm, impossibly pillowy-soft bread. He contemplated the steam that rose from the bread as he split his own roll, and added a generous helping of the spread to the sandwich. Nobody protested, or told him he took too much. Nobody asked him to make their sandwich for them. Santi held the finished sandwich in his hand. It was very easy to tell them what he wanted, now.
He handed the finished roll to Kira, who accepted it gratefully. The little moan of delight she made when she took a bite made Santi smile.
“Happily ever after?” he asked. “Is that too much to ask?”
“Aw—” Kira began, but was cut off by Gabriel.
“Aww! Stop,” Gabriel cooed, pinching Santi’s cheek playfully. “God, you are adorable when you’re being sweet.”
“Isn’t he?” Kira giggled. Santi was not used to being praised like this, and pretended to be way too absorbed in making his own pan de sal while Sari laughed and rolled her eyes. The shop door opened then, signaled by a bell that Gabriel attached, and in walked Ate Tiana Villa, her eyes way too focused on the pastry case to notice her cousin and friends occupying the bakery tables.
“Please tell me they still have those Birthday Cake cookies left, I have aneed,”she announced, walking to the case, her eyes scanning the contents.
