Contract Heartbeat

DINNER AND DILEMMAS

By the time Friday evening arrived, Yliah had changed outfits five times. Her room looked like a clothing tornado hit it—blouses flung over her bed, shoes scattered, and her mom peeking in every five minutes.

“Baka akala niya hindi ka marunong mag-ayos, ha. CEO 'yun!” her mom shouted from the hallway.

“He’s a VP, Ma! At hindi ito totoong date!”

“Mas lalo! Dapat mas maganda ka pa!”

She finally settled on a navy-blue wrap dress—classy but not too formal, paired with nude heels. Tama na. Hindi naman to totoong date, she told herself. This is just a business arrangement... with slightly personal benefits.

Eli picked her up exactly at 7:00 p.m. in a black SUV that looked like it had just been detailed.

As she slid into the passenger seat, she caught his glance.

“You’re not late,” he commented. “Impressive.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am,” he admitted, his lips quirking. “Most people I date aren’t punctual.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You date?”

“Used to. Now I just negotiate partnerships,” he said, starting the engine.

Yliah turned toward the window to hide her smirk. Of course he treats dating like a contract.

The restaurant was nestled on a rooftop in BGC—quiet, high-end, and definitely intimidating. The kind of place where the menu didn’t have prices, and everyone looked like they belonged in a magazine.

Eli’s aunt was already seated, sipping wine like a queen. Elegant. Critical. The kind of woman who didn’t miss a thing.

“So this is the mysterious Yliah,” she said, looking her over slowly.

Yliah forced a smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am.”

“Oh, please,” the aunt said with a wave of her hand. “Just call me Tita Celia. I’m the twin sister of Eli’s late mom. If you’re serious about him, then we’re practically family.”

Eli coughed.

Tita Celia didn’t miss that.

She gave them both a long look. “So… how did you two meet?”

Eli casually placed a hand on Yliah’s chair. “Office cafeteria. She was ignoring her lunch and talking about an ex. I was intrigued.”

Yliah kicked him under the table.

Celia raised a brow, amused. “I like her already. She keeps you on your toes.”

The dinner went on—wine, stories, small talk—but Yliah could feel the tension underneath Eli’s calm. He was polite, poised, but distant. Tita Celia noticed too.

“You’ve changed,” she said to him. “There’s something... softer.”

Eli didn’t answer. But his hand found Yliah’s under the table.

This time, she didn’t pull away.

Back in the SUV, the silence stretched.

“That went... better than I thought,” Yliah said, breaking the tension.

“She liked you. That’s rare.”

“You keep saying that,” she replied, voice light, teasing. “You sound like you’ve introduced women to her before.”

“I haven’t,” he said simply.

That shut her up.

“I don’t usually let people into my personal space,” Eli added. “But you’re not just anyone.”

Yliah turned to him slowly. “You know this whole fake thing is starting to feel... not so fake.”

He didn’t answer. His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

They reached her apartment building, and he got out to open the door for her.

Gentleman move #57.

“I’ll see you Monday,” she said.

“Wait,” Eli called before she turned.

She looked up at him.

He seemed to hesitate. “Next weekend. My cousin’s engagement party. Bigger crowd. More pretending.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

They stood there, not moving.

Not pretending.

Until she turned and went inside.

Monday — Back to Work

The buzz in the office was louder than the air conditioning.

“She was with Sir Eli.”

“Did you see the way he looked at her in the elevator?”

“Baka swerte lang. Pero grabe, di mo ma-imagine, ‘no?”

Yliah tried to drown it all out with her coffee. But whispers followed her like shadows.

Then came the voice she didn’t expect to soothe her nerves.

“Hey,” said Keith, handing her a paper cup. “Brewed, not from the vending machine. You hate the vending one, right?”

She blinked. “You remembered?”

He gave a small, bashful shrug. “You once ranted about it for five minutes. Hard to forget.” She smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “Thanks, Keith. That’s... really thoughtful.”

There was a pause.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you and Sir Eli... but just know, if things ever get overwhelming, you don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m... around.”

Yliah’s heart twisted.

Before she could respond, a voice interrupted sharply.

“Miss Ramirez.”

Eli.

Standing behind her like a shadow, expression unreadable.

“I need you in Conference Room C. Now.”

She gave Keith a look—Sorry, her eyes said.

Inside the room, the tension exploded.

“What’s your relationship with Keith?” Eli asked, arms crossed.

She scoffed. “Excuse me?”

“You looked cozy.”

She blinked at him. “Are you seriously jealous right now?”

Eli didn’t answer. His silence spoke louder than words.

Yliah let out a breath. “This was your idea, remember? Fake boyfriend. Mutually beneficial. Why are you acting like you have a say in who I talk to?”

“I don’t like the idea of people thinking this is just a game to you,” he said quietly.

“Oh,” she laughed bitterly. “Because to you, it’s not a game? You offered this deal like a job offer.”

Eli stepped forward. “I offered it because I needed someone I could trust.” That shut her up again.

And for a moment, her breath caught. She saw something behind his eyes—not just control, not just business.

Vulnerability.

Then she turned to leave—but her heel caught on the carpet.

“Ack—!”

And just like last time, Eli caught her.

But this time, his hand went around her waist, tighter than before.

Their faces were inches apart.

No one spoke.

Their lips hovered.

This time—no accidental kiss.

This time—a choice.

But just before anything could happen, someone knocked on the door.

They both froze.

“Meeting po in five minutes,” said the assistant through the door.

Eli let her go—reluctantly.

Yliah straightened her skirt, heartbeat going wild.

“I’m... going back to my desk, papalitan mo na 'tong carpet mo, nakakaasidente!” she said, flustered.

As she opened the door, Eli’s voice followed her:

“Yliah.”

She paused.

“You look good in navy blue.”

She didn’t look back.

But she smiled.