Bright Fire

CLARA scratched her eyes. She was sitting on the counter of her coffee shop for more than an hour now. She was busy with the papers again. With her limited manpower, she had to do almost all of the work, including accounting.

"Are you alright, Miss Clara?" Jennifer asked. She was one of her baristas.

The shop had just closed, and Jennifer was preparing to leave. The rest of her staff had gone home already.

Clara nodded with a smile. She glanced outside the coffee shop. It was almost eleven o'clock in the evening, but the rain hadn't stopped yet.

She was never in a hurry to come home, though. After all, there was only her Auntie Carlota in the house. But then, she rarely saw her at home because her aunt was a workaholic. She was good as alone.

"I guess I'll have to take these papers home," she said.

"I'll see you in the morning, then." Jennifer hung her backpack on her shoulder. "Drive carefully, Miss Clara."

"Take care, Jennifer."

Clara flexed her back as she watched Jennifer exit the door. Then, silence was Clara's only company left. She wondered if she would ever get used to it.

Clara may have gotten everything she wanted in life, but she was still lonely on the inside. Everything she had was because of her Aunt Carlota, who wanted Clara to be indebted all her life.

She could not date even if she wanted to. Aunt Carlota had already chosen a man for her, but it would not be an easy quest. And Clara dreaded every time she thought about how she would get the man her aunt wanted for her. It was like selling her soul to the devil.

Clara stood up and cleared her stuff. She could not afford to fall asleep inside the coffee shop.

CLARA put the plastic envelope on her head as a cover as she sauntered toward her car. It was still raining, but it was not as heavy as earlier. She fished the keys from her bag, but before she could open the car's door, a force suddenly wrapped around her neck, choking her.

For a moment, she froze in horror, and she dropped her envelope on the wet ground.

"Give me your bag, and I'll let you live," a man's muffled voice said. He was probably wearing a covering for his face.

The man's stinky odor filled Clara's nostrils, adding to the terror she was feeling at the moment. He reeked of alcohol. Clara could not breathe, and she was too scared to gasp for air.

"O-okay. I-I'll give you what you want. J-just..."

"Hey, I think you also want some of this," said another man's voice from nowhere.

Clara was thrown off-balance on the side of the car as the robber was violently pulled off her. She caught her throat as she desperately gasped for air. The second man, wearing all-black attire with a helmet still on his head, gave the thief a headbutt.

The robber groaned sharply as he fell on the ground, the wet concrete making a loud splash. He tried to get up, and Clara saw his forehead bleeding as she struggled to stand straight. The man in black sat on his stomach and punched him remorselessly. She could only watch the horror happening in front of her.

He turned to her.

"Call the police," the man in black commanded.

Clara fished for her phone in her bag with trembling hands. She swallowed and cleared her throat as she dialed the nearest police station's number.

After the quick call, she rushed to the man's side. The robber was already unconscious and could not fight.

"S-stop! Y-you're going to kill him!" she said.

The man's fist hung in midair as he turned to her.

"So what?" he said, panting. "Don't you want to get rid of all the criminals in the world?"

"Y-you're not a criminal. Stop."

The man drew a breath as he finally stood up. His fist was bleeding.

"You need first aid," Clara said anxiously. She tried to hold his hand, but he flinched.

"This is nothing. I punch faces for breakfast."

"You could get an infection!"

"Thanks, but no, thanks."

"P-please..." Clara grabbed his bleeding hand and looked into his helmet-covered face. "I have a first aid kit in my car."

The man sighed, which Clara took as submission. They sat on the dry pavement just in front of Aroma del Cielo after Clara retrieved her first aid kit inside the car. "Thank you for saving me," she said.

"Hmm," he drawled. He took his helmet off and put it aside. Clara stared at what she thought was the most handsome face she had ever seen in her life.

He had messy hair that hadn't been cut for months. He had a thin stubble around his mouth. His thick eyebrows complimented his eyes. And his nose looked perfectly sculptured. He looked like the hero from the covers of her favorite romance novels.

"What are you staring at?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're handsome," she said and then blushed in embarrassment. How could she say those words to his face?

"I know," he responded.

"I'm Clara. I own that small coffee shop." She motioned behind her.

The man glanced at it, too.

"Aroma del Cielo? That's too girly," he said with a smirk.

"My parents are coffee farmers. I thought of them when I was putting up this business of mine." Clara smiled at the memory. When she glanced at his face, he was staring at her. Her heart skipped a beat.

"W-why? Is there something on my face?"

"You're beautiful."

She looked away and focused on putting alcohol on the cotton.

"T-thank you." She looked at him. "This is just going to sting a little."

"Go ahead."

She put his hand over hers as she tapped it lightly with the cotton bud.

"I'm Fuego."

Clara stared at his face once again.

"Hmm?"

"Just in case you're too shy to ask for my name."

"Ah." Clara nodded with a soft giggle. "Too uncommon for a man's name. But it suits you."

"I know."

"Does your hand still hurt?"

"It's nothing," he replied with a shrug.

"You can drop by the coffee shop when you are free tomorrow. I'll treat you to coffee."

"Is that indirectly saying you want to see me again? I'm sorry, but I don't believe in love at first sight." Clara laughed.

"I see that you're a heartbreaker, Fuego."

"I know I said you're beautiful, but you look too young for my taste."

"Well, you're too old for my taste, either. Don't worry."

The police finally came, just in time for the robber to gain consciousness. Clara felt a little sad that she had to part ways with Fuego now. "Don't forget to shower when you get home. You're going to catch flu," Fuego said when the police car was gone.

Clara did not expect that. She could not help laughing.

"Thank you for reminding me."

He put on his helmet and mounted his big bike.

"Will I see you soon?" she asked.

"If fate would allow."

Clara could not help watching in awe as he kicked his motorcycle to life. He looked like a movie star. And just like his name, he was hot.

CLARA COULD have been dead last night, but she woke up in a great mood and with a smile on her face. Thanks to Fuego. She had not slept well because she kept thinking about him and his gorgeous face. She kept a stern face as soon as she saw Aunt Carlota entering the dining room. She was still in her nightgown.

"Good morning, Auntie," she greeted formally.

"Did you get home late?" she asked. Rosa, the maid, poured Aunt Carlota her favorite black coffee.

"Yes, Auntie. The road was slippery, so I had to slow down."

Aunt Carlota studied her face and her body.

"You look thin, Clara. I can't introduce you to the del Mar's like that. You should gain some weight." She took a sip of her coffee.

"Y-yes, Auntie."

"It's nice that you're trying, Clara. But, marrying a del Mar will make me prouder of you. They're the best in the business world." She smiled sweetly.

But Clara's stomach felt like turning. Aunt Carlota will never stop bringing it up.

"I know, Auntie." She stood up from the dining table. She had just lost her appetite. "I'm gonna be late. I'll see you later." She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Clara was the youngest of five children. Her parents, who were working as coffee farmers, could not send them all to school. One day, her Aunt Carlota appeared, introducing herself as her mother's younger sister.

Aunt Carlota was ambitious. She got her fortune from marrying her American husband despite their huge age gap. She used to work in the US as a caregiver. A year after their marriage, her husband died of a terminal illness. She came back to the Philippines to start a new life.

She studied business, and fifteen years later, she now owned almost a hundred chains of hotels and restaurants all over the country. But her aunt never remarried despite her big-time suitors. She said she had never gotten over her first love. It wasn't her first husband.

Clara was fourteen years old when she started to live with her aunt. Carlota gave her everything, but Clara still longed for her family. Aunt Carlota lacked the warmth of a mother. Maybe because she was never able to have a child. But still, Clara wished she would treat her as her own daughter.

She had been trying to make her proud by getting good grades when she was a student and avoiding suitors even though she was already an adult.

CARLOTA'S car finally parked on what looked like a run-down condominium building. She stepped down from the car and pulled her dark sunglasses up. She stared at the corridor on the third floor.

He better be around.

"Just wait here," she told the driver and closed the door. She put her glasses back and sauntered toward the building casually in her black tailored suit and red stilettos.

She stopped in front of a door on the third floor and pressed the buzzer. A few moments later, it opened, and a tall, bulky man appeared.

"Carlota."

She entered right away.

"You still haven't left this rubbish place?" she said as she surveyed the narrow living room.

"You know my job. I can't be suspicious." Baron was still in his shirt and boxers. He could not help a smile as he followed Carlota after closing the door.

He was a private investigator, and he had done a lot of transactions with Carlota over the years. In fact, they were very familiar with each other.

Carlota turned to him with her arms folded across her chest.

"I have a job for you. It's not that difficult. You just have to report Josef del Mar's whereabouts for the whole month. He just got back from the States, and I want you to look into what he was doing while he was there. Also, the people who mingled with him. Check the background for unfamiliar faces."

"I thought you came here for a mini-reunion."

Carlota rolled her eyeballs ceilingward.

"I am a busy person, and I rarely have time for breaks."

"You haven't changed, Carlota."

"What about you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm still the same. I ask for the bonus before the full payment." Baron grinned.

THEIR CLOTHES were scattered on the floor, and neither of them bothered to close the door of Baron's room. The curtains were open with the window showing the rainy sky. The cool breeze brushed Carlota's naked body as she rocked her hips on top of Baron, who was kneading and squeezing her breasts.

Who would have thought that the bitchy, no-nonsense Carlota Herrera was a slut in bed? Not only that, she let herself get fucked in a shabby room by a man ten years her junior!

Carlota's body convulsed in orgasm, an erotic cry bubbling out from her throat. Baron let out a sharp groan as he grabbed her waist. Then he shifted their position.

She was panting as hot seed poured out of her thighs. Baron brushed away the strands of hair that covered her face and kissed her mouth. Carlota moaned as she kissed him back with equal passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he began to thrust once again.

"Oh..." Carlota fisted his hair. "Harder, Baron, harder..." she said as she began to get dizzy with delight again.

THE WEATHER was still gloomy, but Clara's mood had already lightened up as Aroma del Cielo opened. She glanced through the glass wall at the same parking space where she left her car and hoped a big bike would park beside it. She put two cups of hot coffee on the table and greeted the customers before going back to the counter. She remembered she had not finished her papers last night.

Clara jumped as her phone on the table buzzed. She realized she had fallen asleep.

"Oh." She groaned as she rubbed her face with her hands and yawned. She grabbed her phone and checked the time. It was fifteen minutes before twelve.

It had become her habit to set the alarm for lunchtime. Sometimes, or most of the time, she would overwork and skip her meal. Aunt Carlota even noticed that she had lost some weight.

"Have you guys bought lunch yet?" she asked her baristas on the counter.

"I brought a packed lunch, Miss Clara," Jennifer replied.

"Me, too, Miss Clara," Agnes said.

"Oh, okay." Guess she had to use her favorite food delivery app again.

Clara fixed her hair and cleared her table. She walked outside her shop. The tables were still full. She pushed the door, and it looked like the rain had stopped. She wrapped her arms around her as the wind blew.

And suddenly, a familiar big bike appeared and parked beside her car. Clara stared as if the world stopped turning. She could not take her eyes off of the rider.

He was in his all-black outfit again. Her heart could not help pounding. He got down from his motorcycle and walked toward her as he casually took his helmet off.

Fuego.