Encounter
Today marked the start of a new bid—a major eco-urban project that both companies had been eyeing for months. The stakes were high; winning meant prestige, profit, and a solid foothold in the industry's sustainable architecture market.
Mikha entered the conference hall, her team in tow—Maloi, Stacey, and Sheena. Each of them wore business-casual attire, sharp and polished. They took their seats confidently, poised for the meeting.
Aiah arrived minutes later, fashionably late, of course. Jhoanna, Colet, and Gwen followed her like a breeze. Aiah wore a loose blazer over a cropped top paired with wide-legged trousers—a balance of professional and rebellious. She smirked when her eyes caught Mikha’s, that infuriatingly charming smirk that always managed to fluster Mikha, not that she would ever admit it.
“Well, well,” Aiah began, hands in her pockets. “Terra Firma is early, as always. Masyado ka atang eager, Lim?”
Mikha didn’t skip a beat. “Prepared, actually. A concept that might be unfamiliar to you.”
Aiah laughed, light and airy. “Relax, Mikha. The project's not won by who shows up first.”
“Good thing it's not won by reckless ideas either,” Mikha countered smoothly.
"Aggressive. I like it," Aiah teased.
Their exchange caught the attention of the others in the room, a mix of curious glances and restrained chuckles. The project committee began the meeting, laying out the criteria for the eco-urban space—sustainability, community impact, innovation. The discussions were technical yet compelling, and each side presented their initial proposals.
Terra Firma's approach was meticulous, grounded in research and efficiency. Verda Co.'s was bold, leaning heavily into creative public engagement and integration with natural landscapes.
After the meeting, the teams dispersed, yet Aiah lingered behind, catching Mikha’s attention. Mikha inwardly cursed herself for the way her pulse quickened.
“You know,” Aiah leaned against the conference table, arms crossed casually, “for someone so rigid, you sure like a challenge.”
“I just don't like losing,” Mikha replied coolly.
Aiah grinned. “Then I guess we’re both in for a tough fight.”
Mikha stared back, unwilling to back down. Aiah’s gaze was piercing yet playful, the kind that always seemed to dig a little deeper than necessary. It frustrated her—this dance of competition and something unspoken.
“I never back down from a challenge,” Mikha said finally.
Aiah's grin softened, a hint of something unreadable flashing in her eyes. “Good, neither am I. It wouldn't be fun otherwise.”
Then, Aiah stepped a little closer—too close, actually—and whispered, “I'll look forward to playing this game with you, Lim. Huwag ka lang masyadong competitive, baka magalit ka if I win.”
With that, Aiah walked away, leaving Mikha feeling unsettled, her heart pounding louder than she cared to admit.