THE LOOMING RAIN
CHAPTER 9
— THE LOOMING RAIN —
The drive back to Makati was quiet, filled with comfortable lulls and her hand resting in his across the console.
The city lights started blinking in the distance as he pulled up to the curb near her condo building.
He put the car in park but left the engine running, turning to her. His hand found hers again in the near-dark of the cabin.
"Tonight was perfect," he said softly. "But I'm already looking forward to tomorrow." He paused, a small, hopeful smile touching his lips. "Goodnight, Christine.
"Goodnight, Jeff."
He gave her hand one last gentle squeeze before letting go, reluctance flickering in his eyes as she stepped out. Through the open passenger window, he watched her head toward the entrance, then called out just before she disappeared inside.
"Hey." A beat, a softer smile. "Sweet dreams."
"I will."
He watched her until she disappeared behind the condo doors, a quiet smile lingering on his lips.
He sat there for a long moment, his hands resting on the wheel, the scent of her still faint in the air.
Finally, he let out a slow breath and pulled his phone from his pocket. His mother's message was still there, unread, waiting.
He glanced at it, then locked the screen and set the phone aside. Not tonight. He pulled away from the curb, the night settling around him, already replaying the memory of her kiss.
————————————————————
The next morning, the sun filtered through his apartment windows as he moved around the kitchen, a cup of coffee already in hand. His phone buzzed on the counter—a good morning text from Christine.
A small smile tugged at his lips. He picked it up, typing back quickly.
"Good morning. Still replaying last night in my head. Hope you slept as well as I imagined you did."
He set the phone down, took a sip of coffee, and waited, the day already feeling brighter.
Christine read his text, smiled, and simply replied with a smiling emoji. 😊
He chuckled softly at the reply, setting his coffee down to type back. Short pauses between each sentence, deliberate, unhurried.
"One emoji? I think I deserve a full sentence. Maybe two. Breakfast? Cafe in the office lobby. 8:30."
"Okay.. see you."
He read her reply, a quiet warmth settling in his chest. He locked his phone and glanced at his reflection in the dark screen, a small, sure smile on his face. He typed back one last message before heading to get ready.
"See you soon."
He pocketed the phone, the day ahead holding a new kind of promise.
Christine arrived in the office lobby at 8:20. She saw him already waiting. He was leaning against the lobby's marble pillar, a cup of coffee in each hand and sleeves rolled to his elbows—casual but intentional.
When his eyes found her, the guarded businessman vanished, replaced by someone softer. He straightened, offering her the extra cup with a small smile.
"I got your order. Macchiato. Told you I was building a list."
Christine smiled at him while they entered the elevator. She could feel all eyes on her in the lobby. The people were staring, and she could see their different reactions.
He stepped into the elevator beside her, his hand brushing the small of her back as he shielded her from the lobby's prying eyes.
He pressed the button for their floor without looking at the panel, his attention fixed on her.
"Let them stare," he murmured, his voice dropping as the doors slid closed. "Let them wonder."
He walked her to her office. When she opened the door, a pair of ham and cheese pastries were waiting and a note beside them:
"Just a little token for welcoming me back yesterday - Liam."
He stopped just behind her, his eyes landing on the pastries and the note before she could. He read the name silently—Liam—and something flickered across his face, gone almost as quickly as it came.
He didn't step inside. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his voice light but carrying an undercurrent.
"Liam?" He tilted his head, curiosity and something quieter in his gaze. "Should I be jealous, or is this just standard office hospitality?"
"Oh, it's just him being nice. I think." she replied
His gaze lingered on the note a beat longer than it should. Then he met her eyes, a measured calm in his voice. "I think it's Liam just being nice."
He stepped inside, setting her coffee on the desk next to the pastries, his tone shifting to something lighter. "But just so we're clear—if I start leaving you things, it won't be store-bought. And there won't be a note from anyone else on it."
"Noted, sir," she chuckled.
He let out a low, genuine laugh at her playful "sir," the tension in his shoulders easing. "Good."
He took a half-step closer, his voice dropping to something quieter, more personal. "I meant it though. You're not just a colleague now."
He gestured loosely toward the pastries. "So if Liam starts getting creative, just... send me a signal. I'll handle it."
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"I'm sure he's just being nice," she said, though she could see his tension easing. She glanced at the small note, which clearly lacked any mention of Jeffrey.
Seeing the way his jaw tightened, she quickly turned to him with a disarming smile. "Oh, he actually mentioned it was for us both—he knows we've been working late lately."
It was a total fabrication, but she said it with enough casual ease that he bought it.
She picked up the other ham and cheese pastry and handed it to him. "Here, help me finish these so I don't feel guilty."
He caught the slight hesitation before she spoke, and while he suspected she was smoothing things over, the effort itself touched him. He took the pastry she offered, a quiet smile tugging at his lips.
"You're good." He took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before adding, his voice carrying an affectionate undertone: "But next time you make up excuses to protect my feelings, at least make it believable."
He held up the pastry with a playful look. "Free pastry though. I'll allow it."
"Oh, you caught me," she chuckled.
He finished his pastry, wiping his hands on a napkin before closing the slight distance between them. "It's okay. I find it endearing. But just so we're clear—when I say I want to handle things, I mean it. You don't have to protect me from anything."
"Okay, as you wish," she grinned.
He stepped back, giving her space, his hand brushing hers briefly as he moved toward the door.
"I'll be right across the hall. If Liam shows up in person, just... knock twice on the wall. I'll make an excuse to drop by. But I have a feeling he won't."
"You don't have to do that. He is a nice guy, and trust me on this."
He stopped at the door, turning to face her fully. His expression softened. "I know. I trust you. Just... had to say it out loud. So you know where I stand. I'll see you at lunch."
Across the hall, his office waited, but for a moment, he just stood there, a small, unguarded smile on his face, the morning already feeling brighter than the one before.
A couple of hours later, she stepped into his office to drop off some files. A sigh escaped him as she walked in.
He set his phone face-up on his desk, letting her see the message. "My mom. Inviting me to lunch tomorrow." He met her gaze, his voice even. "The timing's interesting, isn't it?"
Christine read the text from Jeffrey's mom: "Son, tomorrow is Sunday. I thought of cooking to have a family lunch tomorrow at the ancestral house."
She set the phone down, looking at him with a mixture of affection and slight weariness.
"See? Sunday lunch. I have a feeling you're the reason my mom asking"
Jeffrey thought of bringing Christine to the lunch to introduce her to his family. He picked his phone back up, thumb hovering over the screen. A thoughtful silence stretched between them before he looked up.
"I want to bring you. To lunch. Tomorrow. Meet my family. I know it's fast. But I'd rather have you there than spend another Sunday explaining why I'm not interested in anyone else."
Christine is surprised but grateful.
In her thoughts: "He wants me to meet his family... I think he is very serious about us." She replied: "You sure?"
A quiet laugh escaped him, warm and genuine. "Never been more sure of anything. Pick you up at 10:30. Wear something comfortable—my mom's cooking will probably require stretch pants. And Christine? Don't overthink it. Just be you. That's all they need to see."
Christine was unsure. She had second thoughts but wanted to trust him. "Okay, let's talk about it later at lunch."
As noon approached, his phone buzzed with a message from her: "How's your day going? Lunch?"
He typed back, giving her back her own gentle patience: "Your call. I know a place with good sisig. Or we could just grab coffee somewhere quiet. Whatever you're up for."
"Meet me at the lobby in 5 minutes."
He immediately grabbed his jacket and headed to the elevator, a quiet anticipation settling in his chest. He arrived at the lobby; she was already waiting there. He walked over, no rush in his stride. "Right on time. Where to?"
"I was craving for dimsum and noodle soup all morning. Wanna join me?"
He gave a small, approving nod. "I know just the place. Small spot in Binondo. Best dumplings in the city. Old family favorite."
"Binondo is a bit far, there's a spot here a block away. Come on, my treat."
A brief flicker of surprise passed over his face, followed by a warm, playful smirk. "Alright, new spot. I'm trusting you. But the treat part—we'll fight about that later."
They walked to the lobby doors and saw Liam. "Hey Liam, thanks for the pastry this morning."
He slowed his pace, offering Liam a polite nod. "Yeah Liam, we enjoyed."
Liam looked at Christine "Glad you enjoyed it, Chris." then to Jeffrey "And you too, buddy. Where are you heading? I was thinking I would invite you Chris for lunch."
Jeffrey's jaw tightened imperceptibly before he masked it with a composed, easy smile. "And we were just heading to grab some lunch," he said, turning to Christine, leaving the door open for her. "Unless you wanted to invite him along?"
Liam shook his head. "No, I'm in a hurry! See you around."
As Liam walked away, the tension in Jeffrey's shoulders dissipated. He waited until Liam was out of earshot, then let out a soft exhale, turning his focus back to Christine.
"Well," he said, his voice carrying a mix of relief and amusement. "He certainly didn't waste any time. I suppose I should be glad you're popular, but I think I prefer being the one you're having lunch with."
He followed her lead, letting her set the pace as they stepped out into the afternoon sun. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, something quiet and appreciative in his expression.
"I like this." He said it simply, as they walked. "You showing me your spots."
They walked to the small Chinese restaurant at the corner of the block, arriving a few minutes later.
He held the door open for her, a brief glance taking in the modest, inviting space—steam rising from the open kitchen, the hum of conversation.
"Cozy." He said it approvingly, sliding into the booth across from her. "I've walked past this place a hundred times. Never thought to step in."
He picked up the menu, glancing at her over the top. "Good thing you're expanding my horizons."
"We should definitely get their xiao long bao!" She smiled at him, gazing at him from across the table. "Want to order something, or should I do the ordering?"
He set the menu down without looking at it, a small, trusting smile on his face. "You order. I want to see what you pick." He leaned back, his eyes warm and curious. "I'll eat whatever you put in front of me."
She quickly went to the counter and ordered: xiao long bao, two small beef brisket noodle soups, and a dimsum. She got back and saw him already settled at the table in the corner. "Just ordered."
He watched her settle back into the seat, a small, appreciative smile touching his lips as she slid into the booth. "Good choices."
He said it simply, his gaze lingering on her for a beat longer than necessary. "You move through a place like you own it. I like that."
Their order arrived.
She put some chili oil into her beef brisket soup. "You want to put some on yours also?" She asked
He watched her doctor her soup, a small, amused smile playing at his lips.
He pushed his own bowl slightly toward her. "Go ahead." A pause, his voice dropping. "I want to try it your way."
She put a little chili oil in his soup. He watched her carefully, an appreciative stillness settling over him as he was the recipient of her care.
He lifted his spoon, took a slow, deliberate taste, and closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Perfect."
He set the spoon down, his gaze meeting hers, touched and simple. "Just the right amount. Thank you."
"I'm glad you like it." She replied
He watched her take a bite of her xiao long bao, a comfortable silence settling between them. He lifted his own spoon, pausing as he met her gaze.
She took a xiao long bao and placed it in the Asian spoon. "I want you to try this." She handed him the spoon. "Careful, it's hot. There's a savory soup inside of that."
He watched her carefully, the gesture catching him off guard. He accepted the spoon, his hand steady, but his eyes carrying something deeper than gratitude.
He took a careful bite, and a small sound escaped before he could stop it.
"That's... really good."
He set the spoon down, his voice softer now as he met her gaze. "Not just the food." A pause, his words deliberate. "This. You feeding me. The trust."
She gave him a gaze, followed by a smile that was almost a grin.
He caught the look, the edge of her smile, and held still for a moment. Then he shook his head lightly, a quiet, genuine laugh escaping him. "That look."
He mirrored her smile, his voice low and unhurried. "I could get used to that."
They ate and talked until the food was gone. "You enjoyed it?" She asked
A satisfied breath left him as he leaned back, pushing the empty bowls toward the center of the table. He took her in for a quiet moment before answering. "I did."
A pause, his voice settling into something sincere. "Not just the food—though that was excellent." He gestured vaguely between them. "This. Talking, laughing, sharing a meal like it's the most natural thing in the world." His eyes held hers. "I could get used to this."
"You should." The unintentional reply came out of her before she could stop it. "I mean, we should... um, we should always put chili oil in soup," she chuckled nervously.
He caught the slip, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he hid a smile behind a sip of water.
He set the glass down slowly, letting the moment stretch. "I heard that." A beat, his voice softer now. "And I'm going to hold you to it."
He tapped his fingers on the table, his expression turning a bit more serious as the waiter began clearing their plates.
"About tomorrow," he started, keeping his voice low so only she could hear. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier. I don't want you to feel like you're walking into a trap. My mom... she's traditional, and she's very protective of the 'status quo' of our family."
He paused, watching her reaction closely.
"I'm bringing you because I want them to see the woman who actually makes me happy—not the one who fits a blueprint. But if you're worried about her being cold, or about the dynamic... just know that you don't have to win her over. You just have to be yourself. I'm the one who needs to do the winning, and I'm ready to do it."
"Okay Jeff. I trust you! Come on, let's get back to the office," she said softly with a warm smile.
He watched her for a beat, a quiet smile lingering as he rose.
He pulled out his wallet, but paused, glancing at her. "You really meant to pay earlier, didn't you?" A playful tilt of his head. "Let me get this one. You can get the next." He left the words hanging, a promise in their weight.
"I already paid after ordering," she chuckled. "Now let's go."
He let out a surprised, genuine laugh, shaking his head as he followed her toward the door. "You're quick." He caught up, holding the door open for her once more. "Alright. You win this round." A soft, playful glance as she passed. "But I'm keeping a tally."
Later that afternoon, as they wrapped up their day back at the office, he caught her packing up her bag. She slung it over her shoulder and stepped out into the hallway.
"Heading out?" she asked, noticing him lingering near his door.
A beat of surprise crossed his face before a genuine, warm smile took over. He turned back to face her fully. "I was just going to head home, actually."
He glanced down the hall, then back at her, his voice carrying a note of hope. "But if you're asking..." A soft exhale. "I'd love to..."
"Oh, don't bother, I have dinner with a client later. I'll just see you tomorrow." with a smile
A beat of stillness passed through him. He didn't push, but a flicker of disappointment crossed his features before he schooled it into a patient, easy smile. He gave a small, understanding nod.
"Alright." His voice stayed even, warm, with no edge. "Tomorrow at 10:30."
He took a half-step back, then paused.
"Long day. You get some rest later."
A quiet, reassuring look, before he turned and walked toward his own office.