THE DEAL BETWEEN US

The Table

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and I stepped out—straight into chaos.

My chaos.

Okay. Not chaos-chaos. Just controlled, organized chaos. Corporate chaos.

“Good morning, Miss Cassy,” someone said.

“You’re looking stunning! That eyeliner is strikingly hot. I’m coming for it, ma’am!”

Compliments from everywhere. I could have swam in the fame… but I had a meeting to attend.

“Thank you, thank you,” I murmured, my heels clicking faster than my heart could keep up as I rushed down the hallway, clutching my laptop and bag to my chest like they could save me from whatever awaited.

I could hear voices from the boardroom ahead—low, serious, unmistakably already started. I checked my watch: 8:15am.Fantastic, Cassandra. You’re arriving for a meeting scheduled for 7am at 8:15am.

I groaned quietly, swallowed hard, and walked silently into the room.

But reading the room, it was clear they were just starting . Of course . They always lied to me.

If a meeting was scheduled for 8am they would say 7am . If it was 7:30am they would say 6:30am. Everyone pretended it was for preparation , but we all knew the truth . Cassandra and punctuality can never be used in the same sentence ,let alone a room.

I quickened my pace nearly colliding with the secretary carrying coffee. He yelped and jumped aside .

"Sorry! Pasensya na po!" I blurted already moving past him .

Every head turned, great just great.

I hurried towards the table, the long glass gleaming under the lights , blueprints spread neatly across it.

Board members sat tall in their chairs , coffee cups untouched, attentive sharp.

My parents seated calm, composed, unbothered.

As I approached the head of the table , my mother met my eyes , lifting them rather slightly than completely .

"Sorry I'm late ", I hastily said. Traffic was—

"Unpredictable" , my father finished dryly . Have your seat ,Cassy ".

A few chuckles rippled through the room.

I slid into my seat, setting my laptop down and already switching mental gears . Late or not, I was here now.

"As I was saying ", one of the board members continued, turning back to the plan projected on the screen , "this residential estate will redefine urban luxury apartments. Everyone in the family gets their own slice of luxury ,space and privacy , more like a billionaire on a budget".He chuckled dryly.

I leaned forward , scanning the schematics .

Good .

But don't get it twisted , if I wasn't mistaken , the project wasn't just about luxury . It was about bringing families together , preventing isolation and tackling all those minor but deadly family issues , which is why we'd been given this hectre of land.

Heads nooded.

"So we should , create as you suggested Mr Andrew, a redefined urban-luxury, billionaire on a budget - but one that also meets family expectations . They want city life but with country charm. Personal plots in each yard for gardening or farming and building designed to pull family together not apart". I added letting my words hang with emphasis.

Pens moved..

I continued, "I like your blueprint . We'll need to reinforce the foundation , if we're building that close to the waterline ", I tapped the screen to highlight a section , " Otherwise, long-term maintenance cost will skyrocket . And we don't want that".

Heads nodded again. Approval clear.

My mother glanced at me, and her eyes beamed with something dangerously close to pride.

The discussion shifted briefly, as one of the board members excused himself and that tiny pause gave my mother the opening she wanted...

Her gaze lingered on me this time , slower, deliberate . Then she smiled , not the boardroom smile. The real smile.

As I sat down , she leaned in, murmuring softly in Tagalog

"Ang ganda ng eyeliner mo "

( Your eyeliner is beautiful)

I blinked..

"You like it?" I whispered back.

She nodded, lips curving into a smile

"It's striking. Bagay sa'yo".

(It suits you).

Heat bloomed in my chest .

If my mom approved, the world could argue with itself.

Across the table my father caught the exchange and chucked quietly . "I was going to say"-he added aloud, " she looks confident today ."

A couple of heads turned again.

I bit back a grin.

The meeting wrapped shortly after—papers gathered, chairs scraping lightly against the floor. As everyone stood, I felt victorious.

“Yesss!” I exclaimed silently. Survived, delivered, nailed it. I did my little victory dance as I left the room.

As I stepped into the hallway, my heels clicking in a more demure way, a familiar voice sang out behind me:

“CASSANDRAAA!”

"CASS BABYY!"

I didn’t even need to turn.

"Micheal", I sighed fondly, just as he swept up beside me. Perfectly tailored purple suit, slik scarf draped dramatically around his neck like he was late for some Paris Fashion Show , instead of a construction company..

He stopped dead in front of me and crossed his legs dramatically.

He gasped !

"O. M. G .,girl "

I braced myself

" Don't " , I said half begging half warning.

He however ignored me completely, circling my face like an art critic.

"The eyeliner. The face . The audacity , Cass- this isn't a look, it's a statement.

I laughed, " it was an accident "

He snapped his fingers . "The best looks always are" chewing his gum even louder for emphasis.

A few workers slowed as they passed.

"Your makeup looks really nice today ma'm" , One of the junior designere shyly said.

"Very bold ", another added. "I love it.

I could feel my grin curve into a smile.

Michael hooked his hands through mine. Possessively.

"See? , office Siren ".

"And this too ".He added , red is totally your colour ." They're going to remember this look and if they ask tell them I was, your designer ".

" Please, don't be silly" , I rolled my eyes. I was late again.

"So?" He leaned closer popping a gum bubble . " You still walked in like you own the building, that's talent ".

"I own the building " , I shot back laughing.

" If I had known how many eyes were going to be on me ... Damn it ... I would have smudged the liner intentionally". I said as we walked towards my office door

"I'm starving " I said , entering my office . "Breakfast?". I asked , I asked already eyeing the coffee and pastries waiting in my office kitchen.

"Absolutely " , he said sliding a chair under the table .

I poured myself a cup of coffee and smirked at him , while looking at him mischievously.

"Cass". He said , " what's with that look ".

I gestured for him to look at the person outside my window and he started to blush.

"So... spill, what's going on between you two? You've been dating or flirting or whatever I want the details now.

Micheal blushed, threw his head back and groaned dramatically . "Come on Cass, calm down , you aren't even letting me sip my coffee in peace"

I smirked, leaning on the counter. “I care about my best friend. It’s my duty.”

He rolled his eyes, finally sitting down and crossing his legs like he was on a stage. “Fine. Fine. So… let’s see. Date number… what? Three? Four? Honestly, I’ve lost count. But yes, we're something. Problem is… well…” He waved his hands helplessly. “He’s… complicated. And dramatic. And I’ve already had to remind him that my emotional well-being is non-negotiable. Do you understand?”

I giggled, taking a bite of my croissant. “Michael, you always attract drama. Why is that?”

He threw me a pointed look and with a straight face said . "Ahemm.. because I’m fabulous and fabulous people deserve fabulous chaos, dramatic and love life , it's just a thing, you'd understand if you gave love a chance Cass.

"Not this again Michael, we've talked about this" . I Sighed.

"Oh come on Cass, what are you like , 8?. I'm getting old I want to be a Godpapa soon. He said .

"But..- " I tried to protest.

"No buts Cass , I want a goddaughter and that's final'. He said with a face so serious that made him look like a clown .

I laughed so hard I almost spilled my coffee. "Alright I've heard you , Mr Sass , I'll -.

Before I could completely my statement my phone buzzed sharply on the desk. I frowned and picked it up.

"Private meeting . Now " , the display read.

Michael groaned, dramatically throwing his hands in the air . "Well off you go babe, I guess".

I grabbed my bag and straightened my top. “Duty calls.”

He winked. “Try not to trip on the way there. I’d hate to have to explain to HR why my best friend is a walking hazard.”

“Promise nothing "

"Kita kits Mahal kita "

(See you later, I love you)

I shot back, smirking as I headed out.

“Hanggang sa muli, Office Siren. Mahal din kita.”

( See you later office siren, I love you too)

He said barely caring if I Heard him or not.

Private meeting meant the meeting with just me, my mom and dad. It was usually calm and for concluding discussions made early in any other meeting.

As I entered, Mom gestured for me to sit, her eyes sharp but patient. Dad was already reviewing documents, nodding thoughtfully.

“Cassandra, good timing,” Mom said in Tagalog, her voice calm.“May isang kumpanya na nais makipagtulungan sa atin para sa ating bagong proyekto.”

(“A company wants to collaborate with us on our new project.” )

I blinked. My heart skipped. Cooper? I didn’t even have to ask; she knew I’d read it in her expression.

“Yes… which company?” I asked, trying to sound casual, though my stomach twisted

.

Mom gave me a small smile. “Their name is Cooper Industries. They want us to handle their materials supply for the estate. Nandiyan si Mr. Noma Cooper, ang representative nila. Dad, you already briefed me?”

(They’ll send a representative, Mr. Noma Cooper.)

Dad nodded slowly, then looked at me. “They’re offering raw materials and construction partnership. A good opportunity, Cassandra. I think your expertise would suit this project perfectly.”

I closed my eyes for a moment. Memories flooded back like a flash flood.

I was nineteen, interning at Cooper Industries. I had been so eager, so ready to learn. But he—Mark Cooper—had made every step of that internship a challenge. From condescending instructions to public humiliation in front of staff, he reminded me constantly of my “place.” My work had been questioned, my suggestions ignored, and every minor mistake I made was magnified.

I clenched my fists under the table. That smirk, that arrogance… it was still there in my mind.

Mom’s voice pulled me back to the room. “Cassandra, breathe. It's okay if you don't want to work with them , considering your past relationship with the company , but I'll also like you to also put into consideration , your company. Ensure your company's recognized and prove to them that what they overlooked then is now gold ".

I exhaled slowly, nodding. “Yes, Mom. You’re right. The past is the past, I shouldn't let personal matters interfere with company matter ".

“Good,” she said, her eyes softening. “He’ll be here soon. Just… handle this professionally. You’ve done it before, you can do it again.”

I straightened in my chair, letting the tension ebb just slightly. The Coopers’ company wasn’t Mark himself—but the shadows of high school and internship memories lingered like a storm cloud waiting for the wind.

I opened my laptop, ready to review the project plans, but my mind couldn’t stop replaying the last time I’d worked with him and his company and all their workers...and the simmering hatred that had taken root all those years ago.

The clock ticked, and I braced myself. Mr. Noma Cooper would arrive any moment, and I had to keep my composure, no matter what the past whispered in my ear.