❦ . ❦ . ❦

Laurence wondered if the fish would fly in the sky and the birds would swim underwater tomorrow. Or if such a phenomenon was already happening right now.

"Why are you giving me this?" He threw a dubious gaze at Warren's grimace before looking at the bottle of honey in his hand.

A few minutes ago, when he'd come back from the printing and resource area, Laurence had found Warren at his worktable, scribbling on a small piece of paper. When he'd approached and asked what in the world had been going on, his coworker had turned to him with a start, crumpled the scratch paper, and tossed the pen on a stack of printed documents.

It didn't take seconds for the surprise to fade and for the usual enmity to sneak back into Warren's face. The man had gestured to the bottle on the corner of the desk by raising his chin and said he was leaving the honey with Laurence.

"You didn't cast some kinda voodoo in here, did you?" he muttered, momentarily forgetting that his coworker was near enough to hear him.

Warren curled his upper lip. "Just be grateful that Mr. Frias was too generous to buy something for you too, even if you're just an afterthought."

Mr. Frias? Laurence lifted a brow. Now that was even more unexpected. Perhaps the sun would set in the east soon too. He wanted to know why the old man would give him anything, but he knew better than to voice the sentiment to the person in front of him.

"Tell him I said thank you?" Laurence said, albeit still dumbfounded.

He expected Warren to pivot on his heels and stalk out with another crabby remark, but the guy kept staring at him as if he had more to say.

"What? Is there anything else?" Laurence thought he'd caught hesitation flash in his coworker's eyes, but when he studied it closer, he noted that the glare had remained etched in Warren's expression.

What surprised him was when the other man spoke in a strangled voice. "Hey, be more careful."

Laurence gaped. Blinked. "Huh? Why does that sound like a threat coming from you? Is that what you were trying to write earlier? That one you're hiding now? Did you want to leave me a death threat?"

"You have no doubt turned crazy. Be careful with what you're accusing me of. It was a note to let you know the honey came from Mr. Frias, and I planned to leave you the written message because I didn't want to personally speak with the likes of you." Finally, Warren stormed off, but not before flinging his trademark sneer.

Laurence shook his head, incredulous. It was amazing how every single word that came out of the guy's mouth sounded foul despite the lack of obscene language.

He sat down and did a bit of inputting for half an hour, taking a break from the computer when he noticed that the attachments for the weekly management report were incomplete. He stood and made his way to the other departments to get the missing documents.

While weaving through the workstations, Laurence observed that several of his officemates were in red outfits and some of them were exchanging chocolates and other confectioneries. Jade Villena had also given him an icebox cake and a small carton of graham balls this morning to bring to work.

This was a foreign experience for him since he and the construction workers at the Black Crystal Builders had never had the privilege of making a big deal out of a Valentine's Day.

Marian had returned from her meeting with the other division heads when Laurence went to the secretary's post next to his desk. The two other bottles of honey behind the older woman's computer snatched his curiosity.

"Are those from Mr. Frias too?" He eyed the one labeled with Isaac's initials, I. R.

"Oh, yeah. His brother just came back from his trip to Hillstown Island."

Laurence nodded, recalling that the mentioned island was known for its authentic pure honey. "He gave me one too," he said with a silent 'why did he do that?' beneath his statement.

"I guess that's not surprising. He's always shared some souvenirs with me whenever he or his family went on a trip. He told me once it was to show his appreciation for always assisting the CEO, and Mr. Frias must have given you one since you're also Mr. Ruiz's assistant now." Marian offered a bowl full of various chocolate brands. "Here, have some."

With a thank you, Laurence picked a matcha-flavored mini KitKat bar while he meditated on whether that was indeed the reason Mr. Frias had given him a small present. That sounded in conflict with how the senior administrative officer had been making it obvious he was never in favor of Florence Villena becoming the temporary executive secretary.

"By the way, I'm almost done with organizing the management report for this week, Ms. Marian." Laurence sent a furtive glance at the closed door of the chief executive's office. It could be because he'd been so busy going around the other departments that he'd yet to see Isaac this morning.

It had only been two days since they went to Raguel Penal Institution. As shaken as he'd been with the few discoveries that had launched serious punches at him the other day, Laurence had battled hard against crumbling under the weight of despair. He knew he needed to have a clearer mind and move forward instead of letting his upset bog him down if he had to unravel the whole truth about his murder and his best friend.

"Oh, right. Mr. Ruiz had texted earlier, asking me if you can bring it to him today, together with the other papers."

Laurence gave the older woman a confused look. He gestured at Isaac's office. "Bring it to him, Miss?"

"Hm, right, I didn't get the chance to tell you earlier that Mr. Ruiz called in sick today, but he insisted on still doing some work at home, so he needed you to bring these urgent papers to him. I told him it was alright to take it easy and prioritize his rest since he's been overworking himself for a while and that must have been taking a toll on his health, but no matter what I said, he just wouldn't listen to me."

Marian heaved a sigh of resignation. "I do understand why he has to push himself to work harder though, and I somehow feel bad that I can only do so much to help him. There have been issues with the Board of Directors these recent months. They have been demanding a lot from the corporation, and the situation must have been putting a lot of pressure on Mr. Ruiz."

She continued to tell Laurence that from the beginning, those old members of the board had doubted that Isaac could run a huge company because, regardless of his credentials, he was still too inexperienced for the business world's standards.

As Laurence kept listening to his mentor, he mused on how Isaac had made a brilliant decision when he'd appointed someone as supportive and considerate as Marian Esguerra to become his executive assistant.

"So won't you go to him, Florence dear?" the woman asked, her maternal instinct oozing through her kind request, although she was only old enough to become Isaac's elder sister. "You can just clock out after lunch. We'll put a note on your DTR and have Mr. Ruiz initial it, so the HR knows it was an official business you went to. I'm worried and I think it will be a lot better if someone can stay with him and make sure he won't be exerting himself to the point of collapse."

Laurence consented to carrying out the task, not only because he could not turn Marian down but also because he wanted to check on that punk.

He spent lunch with Marian in the pantry and learned that Odessa had asked for permission to leave early because she had a personal appointment to attend in the afternoon. During their meal, the female secretary had talked more about the rival companies who could not accept their defeat against a rookie in the industry and were desperate to witness the ND Corporation's downfall.

"Oh, I forgot to get the desserts my sister prepared for me," Laurence said after they finished the sushi and potstickers, remembering the bag with the icebox cake and graham balls on his work desk.

Marian hummed. "Why don't you bring some to Mr. Ruiz? Despite how our young CEO appears, I've figured he has a bit of a sweet tooth," she said with a soft giggle. "Ah, speaking of, please bring him the honey from Mr. Frias, too, alright?"

❦ . ❦ . ❦

Laurence frowned as soon as Isaac answered the doorbell of his house.

"What in the world have you been doing, punk? You ain't a mess like this when we were together the other day," he said, vexed by the shadows under the younger man's eyes.

Yet, the moment Laurence had reflected in those pretty green irises, a smile sprouted on Isaac's lips and painted life on his tired expression. The young boss welcomed his male assistant and guided him into the living room.

Laurence lowered the eco bag that contained the sweet food on the single sofa. He took out the documents from the leather briefcase that Marian had lent him, put them next to the booted-up laptop on the coffee table, before he toured his gaze around Isaac's place.

Earthy hues graced the room. The beige, pale blue, silver, and gray furniture and other decorations matched well with the white wall. For all the color scheme's simplicity, Laurence thought it suited Isaac's sophisticated style.

His attention darted to the large brown display cabinet, which held CDs and vinyl on its wider shelves, while some succulents and cacti were in the smaller ones. He recognized the Soul Ecstasy's albums meticulously arranged in one particular division.

"Do excuse me, senior. As much as I'd like to be a great house host, I'm afraid I am not in a perfect state to attend to you that much at this time, but please be at home while you're here." The young CEO took a seat on the long sofa and picked up a page from the stack of papers that Laurence had delivered to him. He read the document, the professional mask he always wore in the office securing its place on his features.

"Nah, don't mind me. I'm here as your assistant, not a guest anyway. Ah, yeah, I brought an icebox cake. Do you want me to prepare it for you?"

Isaac looked up but said nothing.

The silent stare unnerved Laurence. He fiddled with his earlobe and shuffled on his feet. "That's if you don't mind, but—"

"No. Of course, I'd appreciate it. That's right. It's Valentine's today, isn't it?"

"Yeah? Why'd you bring that up..." Laurence scowled, catching on to what Isaac had tried to imply. "Wait, don't get too ahead of yourself, you punk. The cake was given to me by my—Florence's sister and I just forgot to have it for lunch. Ms. Marian told me to bring some for you because she said you have a sweet tooth."

The young CEO shrugged. "Not necessarily. It's only because sugar helps my brain to be more active when I'm doing a lot of mental work. That aside, didn't you say you are here as my assistant? Is it part of your duties to call me punk now?"

Ignoring the last remark, Laurence flashed his boss a sarcastic smile. "So, do you want the cake or not, Mr. Ruiz?"

"I told you I'd appreciate it. Can I also ask you to get me the masala chai from the fridge while you're at it?" Isaac asked, added the directions to his kitchen, and resumed analyzing the paperwork.

Laurence gathered the eco bag from the chair and exited the living room, following his boss's instruction. He reached the kitchen and a large window behind the sink greeted him. Sunrays flowed through the wide casement's glass and shone upon the pots of cherry tomato, chives, and oregano near the faucet.

He set the bag down next to the bread box on the counter and walked to the high-end refrigerator. The sight that met him upon pulling the door of the main compartment engraved a deep frown on his face. The shelves were empty aside from the lone piece of egg in the tray, a bottle of Pocari sweat, an opened sachet of mayonnaise, and a few overripe langsats in the fruit drawer.

With his gaze, he swept the inside of the fridge and searched for a pitcher or a tumbler of a beverage. The creases in between his brows multiplied when he instead found two canned iced teas labeled with masala chai.

Laurence opened the freezer and discovered it was as empty except for a frozen salmon head and a pack of chorizo. Dissatisfied, he grabbed a can of iced tea and marched back to the living room, his original intention for going to the kitchen forgotten.

"What's the point of having a big and damn fancy refrigerator if you ain't using it for its purpose?" He placed the processed drink on the coffee table with a rap.

Isaac uttered a deadpanned thanks and took a sip of the tea.

Laurence waited for a reply to his question, but the younger man didn't seem too keen on giving him one as he continued working on the documents and his laptop.

"Did you even eat a proper lunch? What will you have for dinner? Your freaking refrigerator is empty. Can you even cook?" Laurence asked, irritated.

Without prying his eyes off the computer screen, Isaac said, "You sound like a nagging mom, senior, even more than Marian. I can prepare food for myself just alright, but I can't find the time these days, so I opt for something easy to prepare."

"Don't you have any maids? A house this big, you should hire some help to take care of the chores."

"I have someone from the cleaning services come here every day. As for cooking..." A wince betrayed Isaac's straight face. "I am not sure I'm prepared to trust anyone cooking in my kitchen soon again."

The expression sparked Laurence's curiosity, but he chose not to probe. "So, did you have your lunch already? Did you eat rice?"

"Sure. With corned tuna."

Laurence groaned. It was not that he doubted Isaac's claim about his culinary capabilities; he had a hunch the young CEO could indeed cook, if the herbs he was growing in the kitchen were any indications. Still, the knowledge was not enough to let go of his current concern about the punk boss's diet.

Not-so-subtle, he surveyed Isaac's overall physique. He pressed his mouth into a thin line, unsure whether to be pleased or annoyed with what he was seeing. Averting his eyes, he muttered to himself, "How come this punk could remain physically fit when he ain't eating right? Seriously, what kinda cheats do you have?"

"I have none," Isaac said, cluing in on Laurence that his words might not have been as quiet as he'd intended them to be. "I do eat properly when I'm not too busy and I try to find time for workout as much as I can. That's right, why don't you consider registering for a membership in our gym, Laurence? I'm fairly certain you can use a bit of physical training so you can push me even an inch next time. Tell me if you're interested, so I can notify the manager to give you a huge discount."

Laurence shot him daggers, but it was futile since the young boss didn't even bother to spare him a glance. Instead, Isaac continued typing on his laptop.

"This punk... Are you trying to show off? You know I used to have those muscles in my old body, too."

Only the tapping of keyboard answered his declaration.

Accepting a petty argument was of no use, Laurence brought back the original subject of their conversation. "Do you want me to make you an egg sandwich? You can still have the cake, of course. But I just thought it won't be enough on top of other processed food if you're gonna keep overworking yourself. And you're sick, yeah? You should eat something more filling and healthy if you wanna last longer."

The clacking sounds stopped. Isaac's fingers hovered over the keyboard.

"Or not also possible if I'm gonna make it in your kitchen?"

"Will you make dinner for me?" Isaac asked, turning to his assistant at last.

Laurence regarded the younger man in confusion, uncertain of how the exchange had steered in that direction. "I thought you don't trust anyone cooking in your kitchen?"

"You'll always be an exception, Laurence. At any rate, it's not like it will make a difference even if you try to put love potion in my food."

Laurence's perplexity increased while he puzzled out Isaac's last statement.

This rascal... Are you implying a love potion ain't gonna affect you if it's from me 'cause no way in hell you're gonna see me that way?

I get it already. I may have mattered to you, but only as someone similar to a big brother you never had, yeah? Ain't necessary to throw it in my face, and not like I want your romantic affection anyway.

In the end, he ignored the imaginary voice snorting at his thoughts to focus on the bigger issue. He made an egg sandwich with the buns he'd found in the bread box, set the cake aside for dessert after dinner, and promised he would make a proper meal for Isaac later. He stayed for a few hours to assist the young boss with the paperwork.

Once the sun converged on the horizon, Laurence asked about the nearest grocery store to shop for ingredients. The young CEO offered to drive him to the place, but he declined, telling the younger man to take it easy.

"Have some rest if you have nothing better else to do. Besides, it ain't that far here, right? I'd prefer to go by foot, since it's more relaxing that way."

Laurence crossed two streets and arrived at the supermarket after around a ten-minute walk. He spent some time at the meat section, contemplating whether to get chicken or pork for the sauteed chayote tops, before he remembered he would pay with Isaac's money. Needless to say, he decided on the ground beef. He also bought a couple of other stuff that could provide for the young boss for a few more days.

As he was returning to Isaac's place and reached the backstreet alley, the feeling that someone was following him reoccurred. This time, Laurence had more reasons to think he was not simply being paranoid because he could make out the soft footfalls behind him.

And when he paused on walking, the sounds of trailing steps stopped as well.