Miss Perfectly Imperfect

CASA DULCE

By noon, the sun was blazing overhead. The team decided to take a break, before heading to the next site. They quickly settle their things at the nearby hotel before grabbing lunch with the Mayor. His assistant suggested a well-known seaside restaurant a few minutes from the port — Casa Dulce, a place famous for its seafood and ocean view.

The group arrived in a small convoy. From the outside, the restaurant looked rustic — bamboo panels, wide windows opening to the sea breeze, and the faint sound of acoustic music coming from the bar.

Shane stepped out of the Land Cruiser, her heart thudding harder than it should. She knew this place too well, kahit iba na ang pangalan nito ngayon at renovated narin. Pero sa pakiramdam ni Shane ay ito parin 'yong lugar na madalas niyang pinupuntahan noon. That same restaurant where she used to dine kung gusto niyang magpahinga at mabusog. Ang tanawing minsan ay pinangarap niyang muling makita, ngayo’y nasa harap niya ulit — pero sa piling ng mga taong hindi niya maipaliwanag kung bakit pinili ng tadhanang kanyang makasama.

Inside, the restaurant exudes a warm, rustic elegance. Its walls are clad in vertical bamboo panels that give off a natural, earthy texture, while soft pendant lamps in woven shades cast a gentle amber glow over the wooden tables. Each table is neatly set with glasses and silverware, arranged in a way that feels both casual and refined.

A wide expanse of sliding glass walls opens the space to a breathtaking ocean view — the calm, blue water stretching endlessly beneath a pale sky. The sea breeze seems to flow right into the dining area, blending with the faint hum of acoustic music drifting from the nearby bar. Altogether, it feels serene and timeless — the kind of place where one could linger for hours, sipping wine and listening to the waves beyond the glass.

“Beautiful view,” Gavin remarked casually as they entered.

“Indeed, Luisito,” said Miss Agnes, glancing around. “The mayor said it’s one of the best in the city.”

Shane forced a smile, keeping her eyes low. If I just stay quiet… maybe no one will notice.

Later, they were ushered to a long table overlooking the shore. The mayor and his team took the seats near the window; Gavin and his staff sat opposite. Shane took the end seat, slightly turned away — the safest place to stay unnoticed.

Menus were passed around, conversations filled the air. Gavin and the mayor were already discussing project timelines, shipment logistics, and budget alignments. Shane, meanwhile, focused on taking notes, jotting down important points.

Until the mayor’s laughter suddenly drew her attention.

“Ah, perfect timing!” he said cheerfully, waving toward the entrance. “Our city’s Vice Mayor just arrived — Carl!”

The pen nearly slipped from Shane’s fingers.

The world tilted for a split second.

And then she saw him — tall, composed, still wearing that familiar half-smile she once knew too well. Carl Hernandez Atega. The mayor’s nephew. The man who had once shattered everything she believed in.

Ramdam niya ang bilis ng t***k ng puso niya, parang dudurog sa katahimikan.

Napansin ni Gavin ang bahagyang pagbabago sa ekspresyon ni Shane — halos hindi halata, pero sapat para mapansin ng mga matang sanay sa obserbasyon.

Carl walked closer, greeting everyone with confident ease. “Sorry I’m late, Tito. Got held up at the City Planning office.” His tone was light, his eyes scanning the group — until they landed on her.

Shane quickly lowered her head, pretending to adjust her notes. Wag kang titingin. ’Wag kang hihinga.

“Ah, Carl,” the mayor said proudly, “this is the team from Villa Builders.”

Carl’s handshake went around the table — until it stopped just short of her. She could feel his hesitation, the faint pause that lasted a second too long.

“Vice Mayor Atega,” Gavin greeted, extending his hand smoothly. “It's Gavin Villalobo, sir.”

“Villalobo,” Carl repeated, shaking his hand with polite firmness. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard about your company — top-tier work.”

“Thank you,” Gavin replied. “We take pride in that.”

Carl smiled faintly, then his eyes slid once more toward Shane — curious now. “And you are?”

Before she could even open her mouth, Gavin’s voice came in, even and controlled. “Shane. My project analyst.”

Shane nodded once, forcing the smallest professional smile. “Good noon!”

Carl’s gaze lingered longer than it should have.

There was something familiar — in the way she sat straight but slightly guarded, in the calm precision of her tone when she finally said, “Good noon.”

It took him a moment longer to realize why.

Carl barely recognized Shane anymore. Fate had taken a part of her beauty — the softness in her face now edged by quiet strength, the glow replaced by something heavier, sadder. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

There was a pull, faint but undeniable. A flicker of memory he couldn’t quite place — until she shifted, and the sunlight from the window caught the faint scar in her face that's been hiding behind the strands of her hair.

Carl leaned back slightly, listening absently to the mayor’s conversation with Gavin. The restaurant buzzed with the faint hum of lunchtime chatter, plates clinking, the sea breeze drifting through the open windows. But his attention kept wandering — toward the woman who took the end seat.

Something about her movements tugged at him. The way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before speaking softly to one of the engineers. The way she kept her eyes lowered when someone asked a question, but always answered with quiet certainty.

There was a familiarity in her gestures — a ghost of someone he used to know. And yet, Carl still didn’t recognize her.

That accident had altered her face just enough — softened some parts, hardened others — stealing away the warmth Carl once remembered. Still, there was something about her presence, that calm restraint, that unsettled him.

He found himself watching longer than he should, waiting for memory to catch up with recognition. But it didn’t.

To him, Shane was just another professional — composed, distant, and unreadable. A stranger with eyes that seemed to hold the weight of a thousand untold stories.

Across the table, Shane felt his gaze flicker her way. Her fingers tightened slightly around her fork, but she didn’t look up. Not once.

Because if she did, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep the mask in place.

Carl’s gaze lingered again — longer this time.

He couldn’t help it. There was something hauntingly familiar about her. The slope of her shoulders. The quiet grace in the way she handled herself. Even the way she smiled — polite but never quite reaching her eyes.

He didn’t know why it bothered him.

Shane, on the other hand, felt every second of it. She focused on her plate, trying to steady her breathing. The clatter of cutlery, the mayor’s booming laughter, the hum of the air conditioner — all faded beneath the pounding in her ears.

Please don’t look too long. Please don’t remember.

She reached for her glass of water, her fingers trembling just slightly.

Across the table, Gavin caught the movement. His eyes narrowed — not in suspicion, but in quiet observation. He’d noticed how Shane had been unusually quiet since they arrived, how her posture stiffened the moment the vice mayor’s entourage walked in.

And now, watching this man's gaze linger, he began to piece things together — or at least sense that there was something beneath her calm exterior.

“You okay?” he asked slowly, just enough for her to hear.

Shane looked up, startled by his tone. “Yes, Boss,” she replied quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just a bit tired from the fieldwork.”

“Hmm.” Gavin’s reply was short, but his eyes didn’t leave her face for a moment longer than necessary — long enough for Carl to notice.

The mayor, oblivious to the undercurrent, was still talking about the project timeline. “We’ll coordinate with your office next week, Mr. Villalobo,” he said cheerfully, raising his glass.

“Absolutely,” Gavin replied smoothly, shifting his attention back to the conversation. But even as he spoke, he could sense Shane retreating into herself, almost shrinking away from the attention she didn’t want.

Carl caught that too — the way she kept her guard up, the way she avoided his eyes.

He couldn’t explain it, but he felt a strange pull, like a memory brushing against the edge of his mind.

The restaurant buzzed softly with the hum of conversation and clinking cutlery, the smell of grilled seafood mingling with the salt of the nearby coast. Gavin sat across from Vice Mayor Carl, posture composed, expression calm — the perfect image of control.

Shane sat a seat apart, focused on her notes and pretending not to notice the way Carl’s gaze lingered a second too long in her direction.

When the waiter came to clear the table, Carl leaned slightly toward her side.

“You’re from the city, right?” he asked casually, his tone polite but curious.

Shane froze for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Manila po, part of VB company,” she said simply.

“Yeah, but are you from this city? I mean… may mga kamag-anak ka rito?”

Umiling si Shane, pinilit maging kaswal. “Bakit po, sir?”

“Ah, wala lang...” Carl studied her, thoughtful. “You just remind me of someone I used to know.”

Her pulse spiked. She forced a small laugh. “So, may pilat din siya kagaya ng sakin?”

Carl chuckled lightly. “No, not that part — the gestures, I mean. The way you talk.”

Her heart skipped, but she smiled faintly, steady this time. “Maybe just a coincidence, sir.”

Carl studied her for a moment longer, his brows slightly drawn as if trying to catch a memory that refused to surface. Then he laughed softly, shaking it off. “Yeah, maybe. My mind’s probably playing tricks on me.”

Shane smiled politely, but beneath the surface, her pulse raced. The air suddenly felt too thick, the space between them too small.

Meanwhile, Gavin’s quiet gaze found her — steady, unreadable, but sharp. He’d noticed the subtle tension, the hesitation she thought she’d hidden.

She quickly lowered her eyes, pretending to check something on her tablet. “Excuse me po, I’ll just check some emails. Medyo mahina po ’yong signal dito sa loob,” she murmured, her voice calm.

“Of course,” Carl said easily, still watching her retreating figure for a moment too long.

As Shane walked away, Gavin’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. He knew there was something more behind that poised exterior — something she was trying hard to bury.

He waited a beat, then leaned slightly forward, tone measured but edged with quiet authority.

“So, Vice Mayor,” Gavin began, “if you don’t mind me asking — ano po ang magiging papel ninyo sa project na ’to?”

Carl straightened, momentarily caught off guard by the direct question. “Ah, yes,” he said, regaining his composure. “Before I was elected, I served as an engineering consultant for the city. I helped draft the initial design proposals for the port — so even now, the mayor asked me to stay involved. Mainly to ensure continuity, coordination, and transparency.”

Gavin nodded slowly, the faintest trace of a smile curving his lips. “I see. So you’re familiar with the foundation phase.”

“Very,” Carl replied, a hint of pride in his tone. “We’ve waited years for this to push through. I must say, Villa Builders winning the bid was… impressive.”

“Appreciate that,” Gavin said, his tone polite but detached. “We make it a point to deliver results, not just promises.”

Carl smiled faintly, raising his glass. “I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Villalobo.”

Gavin mirrored the gesture but said nothing more. Across the glass partition, through the faint reflection, he caught sight of Shane standing outside — head slightly bowed as she pretended to type, the sea breeze lifting a few strands of her hair.

For some reason he couldn’t explain, his chest tightened.

The tension hung just long enough for Carl to notice it before Gavin leaned back in his chair, glancing briefly toward the direction Shane had gone. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said, rising smoothly. “I’ll check on my analyst.”

Carl nodded, unsure if he imagined the faint edge in Gavin’s tone.

Outside the restaurant, Shane stood near the glass wall, her tablet in hand, pretending to scroll through emails she wasn’t really reading. The reflection on the window showed her own uneasy expression — and behind her, Gavin’s approaching silhouette.

“Signal’s weak, huh?” Gavin’s voice was low, calm — but the hint of irony in his tone made her throat tighten.

She turned slightly, forcing a small smile. “Yes, Boss. I just needed a minute. Mahina po kasi sa loob.”

He nodded, hands in his pockets, gaze drifting briefly toward the view outside before returning to her. “Carl seems… familiar with you.”

Her breath caught, but she managed to keep her tone neutral. “We’ve just met po, Boss. Baka dahil taga-rito siya, he probably thought he saw me somewhere else.”

"Or perhaps, nagkita na talaga kayo, back in the days."

"Si-siguro po, in my younger days, pero di ko na matandaan."

“Hmm.” Gavin’s response was thoughtful, noncommittal — the kind that made her heart pound faster because it meant he didn’t quite believe her, but wouldn’t press. Not yet.

Then he looked past her, through the glass, where Carl was laughing lightly with the mayor’s assistant. “Let’s head back,” Gavin said finally, his tone clipped but even. “We still have the afternoon survey to finish.”

“Yes, Boss,” she replied quickly, clutching her tablet a little too tightly.

As they walked back inside, Gavin’s expression returned to its usual calm — unreadable, composed. But beneath that surface, a quiet tension brewed.

Something in that exchange — the look Carl gave Shane, the way she avoided it — had stirred a question he didn’t want to admit was forming:

What exactly was Shane trying to hide?