Love has always been a foreign concept to Allen Lopez. He neither received it nor sent it, even as a small child. Its absence in their household made him wary of love. Besides, the constricting expectations of his parents threatened to drown him. Every move, every step, every accomplishment, every failure, everything was printed on his back in big and bold letters. He got placed under a magnifying glass for everyone to scrutinize. The pain and the anxiety distracted him.

But funny how love works sometimes.

In the case of the burdened heir of Lopez Co., it arrived in the form of a newly graduated secretary who just made a costly mistake.

"Even an uneducated infant would not make such an error," Allen exclaimed, furious at his secretary. "You do not put such high numbers in a business case for an exploratory project. This sets high expectations not only for both of us but also for the team. When I asked you to get this done and approved, I did not mean to create such impossible figures just to get it done."

He glared at his secretary who stared at his feet and bit his lower lip. Allen's shoulder sagged. This was getting nowhere. He took a calming breath as he expected another headache to arrive soon. He was just about to let his secretary go when the young man flashed a small smile and offered an apology.

"I recognize my mistake," he replied, bowing his head for a moment before smiling again. "Thank you. I should've known better not to create such burdensome expectations for a fledgling project. I apologize again. Should you not need anything else from me, I'll let myself out."

After a beat, he took Allen's silence as a response and left Allen's office. The doors shut and he was left alone. He sighed and tapped his fingers on a pad of sticky notes. He glanced through the glass pane beside his door. He could only see the bookshelf that separated his secretary and the team.

He went out, ignored the vacant seat of his secretary, and waited in front of the executive elevator. But the elevator had been stuck on the 6th floor for some time now. He was getting impatient, only to realize he forgot his sticky notes. He had intended to retrieve it but stopped short on the threshold of their office main entrance.

Secretary Andrew's muffled sobs reached Allen's ears. "I'm so useless," he cried out between sniffles. "I know I'm not suited for the job, but I didn't expect to make such a mistake." He sniffled again and blew out his nose. "Maybe everybody's right, and I shouldn't be here. I mean look at me compared to all of you. I'm not even improving!"

That was not true, Allen wanted to say but could not. Secretary Andrew had already vastly improved compared to his first day.

"That's not true at all," Sonna's cheerful voice enveloped Andrew's sniffles. "You couldn't even add numbers on a spreadsheet before and now you're doing the boss' business cases. That's a big deal. And forget that grumpy tyrant for looking down on you."

It was not Allen's intention to belittle him. He was just... He let out a heavy sigh. He expects his team to be as competent as him. His secretary should grow exponentially if he wants to stay by his side. And never be questioned why a person without the right academic credential was hired. It was this exact trait that made him...Secretary Andrew.

Allen turned around and left for a meeting. Expecting that when he returned, he would have already lost another secretary. He would not be the first secretary to storm out of his office and quit. He did not care about them. But the thought secretary Andrew leaving made him, well, bothered.

But when he returned, he found his team celebrating Secretary Andrew's 1st anniversary in Lopez Co. His secretary was surrounded by their teammates. He immediately made himself noticeable and headed toward his secretary, much to their astonishment.

"Congratulations," he said, after a pause. He noticed that Secretary Andrew was back to his old self, but he could not cover up the redness around his eyes. Also, there was something with Secretary Andrew's ill-fitting suit that ticked Allen off. It made his secretary smaller than he really was.

"Sir Allen and Andrew. Let's take a picture of both of you." Sonna angled her digital camera at the pair. Cautiously, Secretary Andrew inched closer to him and smiled.

He should start keeping an eye out for his secretary to avoid losing another one. Maybe Allen should raise Secretary Andrew's salary so he can afford to purchase a new attire.

"One...Two...Three, smile!"

Allen did not smile.

But he took it upon himself to figure out how to encourage his secretary. His voice failed him, and failure was not in his vocabulary. So, he had to figure out another way.

Deep in thought, he tapped his finger on his desk and felt the smooth surface of his forgotten sticky pad. Then it him. He swiped the pen from his coat pocket and wrote down Excellent job! in smooth cursive on the sticky note. He stared at it for a moment before he crushed the note into a ball and threw it into the bin.

He realized that his secretary might not appreciate it if he knew Allen wrote it. Best be anonymous, he thought. So, he wrote it again but this time using his left hand. The result was dreadful but legible. He sneaked past his doors, posted it on Secretary Andrew's desk, and went back to his office.

A thrilling rush coursed through his vein as he waited with bated breath. He kept walking past the glass pane. Eager to catch the recipient's reaction, but he hasn't returned yet. The nerve of this man. He decided to go back to his desk. But his foot tapped rapidly. He glanced towards his door and his legs itched to walk past the glass pane again.

Then something clicked. He stood up and braced himself. He pushed his heavy oak desk a few inches to the right. Satisfied, he sat back again and looked straight ahead. Through the glass pane, he saw Secretary Andrew—exactly framed by the window—return to his desk. He scrunched his face when he noticed the note. After his eyes scanned its short content, the biggest smile appeared on his lips. He looked up and Allen immediately glared at the documents in front of him.

Over time, and through hundreds of notes, Allen's left handwriting considerably improved. But it was nothing compared to the growth of his secretary.

Was Allen proud of him? Yes.

Did he say it to him? No.

Allen was not good with words. There were the notes for that. Although, he does not need to search the internet for words of encouragement as he could think of them on his own.

A knock on his door made him scramble to hide the notes. He swept them from his table into his cabinet, just in time for an attractive secretary Andrew to enter. He now wore a well-fitted suit that complimented his brown skin tone and small build. No more of those disastrous suits that drowned him in miles of cloth. Those trips to the boutique finally paid off.

"Sir Allen?"

"Ah, yes. What is it?"

Secretary Andrew approached him with a proud smile and handed him a tablet. There were graduation photos from an executive management program of a renowned HR firm.

"Luiz finished top of his batch. Congratulations, you must be proud of him. I'm sure this is also a relief for him. Mr. Lopez has been pressuring him to do well."

Allen gazed at the photo of his younger brother. Luiz wore a bright smile, raising his medal in the air, enveloped in the arms of his friends. Behind them were the passing faces of other parents. But Allen couldn't find theirs, even after finishing the gallery. Typical.

"They couldn't come," Secretary Andrew explained. "It coincided with the investor's presentation."

Allen could only grunt in response.

"But don't worry. I already invited him to a dinner for you."

Allen raised an eyebrow at his meddlesome secretary who wasn't supposed to know that.

"You were mumbling it. So, I just put it in my to-do list."

Allen chose to let it go on the account of his so-called 'mumbling'. He was proud of his brother, and he wanted to celebrate his graduation with him. Even in the absence of their parents. Though Allen was relieved that Luiz had been with his friends.

"What restaurant did you call? I recall he prefers Jamaican."

"He likes Japanese, Sir," Secretary Andrew drawled. Sometimes Allen would sense a hint of sarcasm in his secretary, but Allen could never catch it. Allen waved his hand for Secretary Andrew to continue.

"I was planning on booking a reservation for that restaurant with the excellent sushi bar, do you remember? But...I was thinking, what do you think of cooking him a meal?"

"A meal?"

"Yes...a home-cooked meal." Secretary Andrew flashed a cautious smile.

There it is again, that sarcasm, that smile that hinted he thought of Allen as the one with a lack of intelligence for this moment. Allen was sure of it.

"You've mentioned that you've always had a chef at home, so you've never really had a meal cooked by a family member. Why not use this chance to do so? It would be different, more special, than just dining out. Wouldn't you say?"

Allen nodded, then asked, "Care to join us?"

"No," came his swift reply.

Ah. There was that deep pang inside his chest. Allen wondered what that feeling was. He did not like it.

"But...I could teach you how to cook," he said with a smile. There was also a certain glint to his eyes. "Think of it as payment for the suits you bought me."

Later that night, he just thought of what his brother would like, and his hands grabbed what ingredients he could think of inside the market. Which was probably a terrible idea, seeing that his new kitchen counter was a field of uncooked food.

When his secretary arrived at his new house, he had expected to be thrown the 'You're stupid, but you are my boss' look. Instead, the young man roared with laughter as he found the act sweet and hilarious. Much like Secretary Andrew's laughter. Sweet.

Huh?

"Sir Allen," Secretary Andrew handed Allen an apron and gathered a variety of ingredients. "Why don't we start with an omelet?

"Yes, I agree," Allen paused. "So, eggs?"

"Let me show you the wonders of delicious food."

And Secretary Andrew showed him indeed. His secretary demonstrated basic knife skills, how each seasoning worked, the compatibility of ingredients, and different methods of cooking an egg. How was Allen supposed to know that he was not supposed to put that much oil? He's amazed by how the combination of different ingredients creates one amazing flavor. There was a science behind cooking, but there was also art in it. Secretary Andrew let him experiment in the kitchen as he sat watching behind the kitchen counter.

"So, what are you going to talk about with your brother?" he asked. "Assuming that you two are going to talk."

Allen thought about it while he seasoned. "I should praise him. And that I'm expecting him to do a good job."

After a beat, there was no response. He glanced past his shoulder at a pondering Secretary Andrew

"What is it, Secretary Andrew? Speak your mind. I do value your advice."

"Don't you think that your expectations and good-willed praises would burden him the most?" Secretary Andrew asked. "Don't you remember how burdened and crippled you were when your father prematurely praised you that you would achieve the quarter quota in just a month because you were smart?"

Allen did remember. The sleepless nights, the countless coffees, all the hours spent with Secretary Andrew. Allen did not want Luiz to suffer from the pressures as he did.

"You're right, Secretary Andrew. Let me think it over and I'll course it through you."

"Alright, I'll be here."

He mulled topic discussions over his head as he kept on trying new flavors and new dishes. Time passed and he hadn't realized that it was already past midnight. He went to the living room and found his secretary sleeping on the sofa. Allen crouched down and unabashedly ogled his secretary's sleeping expression. His brows were furrowed. Maybe he found the sofa uncomfortable. With that in mind, he picked up Secretary Andrew into his arms, careful not to disrupt his sleep.

He headed for the master bedroom. He laid Secretary Andrew unto the bed with great care. Loosened the necktie around his neck. Slipped off his sports shoes—the pair secretary Andrew wears for his commute—and turned on the air conditioner.

Just before he left the room, there was one observation that swept all his thoughts aside. Secretary Andrew's body was lean and muscular, yet soft at the same time.

When morning came, Secretary Andrew rushed from the bedroom to the kitchen, apologizing. Allen, who had just prepared breakfast, instructed him to stop apologizing and eat. He was nervous, to say the least, maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that this was his first dish for another person.

Secretary Andrew sat down and eyed the steaming omelet, garnished with herbs and vegetables. He took one bite and exclaimed, astonished, "This is good."

He took another bite. "Wow, Sir Allen. This is really, really, really, good. I mean it."

Allen let out a breath of relief he had not realized he'd been holding. He's been tense for the past hour, awaiting the verdict of his cooking from another person

This cooking thing. He should do it more often.

From the other side of the table. Secretary Andrew flashed an unfiltered smile, void of veiled professionalism. A genuine, morning smile.

"If this is your first-time cooking, and it's already this delicious, you could do this for a living!"

Embarrassed by the compliment, Allen reminded him that they had to leave for work. Secretary Andrew rushed and left his house. Leaving Allen alone with a heated face but a pleased smile. He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckles slipping out from his lips.

This had opened a new world for Allen who had only known the corporate world, the world of cuisine and dining. This was the start of Allen inviting Secretary Andrew to various meals to fulfil his curiosity. His secretary also noticed the increasing meals they had shared with one another.

Allen would sometimes receive restaurant recommendations on his phone. He would look up from his desk, across the glass window. And see Secretary Andrew wave his phone with a pleading expression. Of course, Allen would indulge his secretary by scheduling business calls in restaurants they had planned.

"This is so good," Secretary Andrew would usually squeal in delight from one bite of their meal. While Allen would examine his food, the methods used, breaking down its recipe in his mind. This interest of his...cooking, has been growing and growing in his mind. This voice in his heart had gotten louder, as his interest in it grew. Sometimes this voice becomes so prominent he couldn't think straight, the word Lopez Co., became a shackle and the work he performed became more crippling, pointless, useless. Fear swallowed his heart and—

"Sir Allen?"

A singular voice penetrated his clouded mind. He looked up from his desk and faced his secretary. Secretary Andrew placed a folder on his desk, flipped the cover, and read the title out loud. 'Pursuing Your Passion – A vocational arts scholarship for adults who cannot afford their dreams. Proposal.'

"Passion?" Allen asked, confused.

"Don't you have something your passionate about, Sir Andrew? Something that makes you happy yet allows you to provide for your family?"

Cooking.

Secretary Andrew's eyes were hopeful and strong. He flipped another page of his proposal.

"It's a scholarship for adults who knows where their passion lies, but because of their circumstance, financial or otherwise, could not pursue it. Like tricycle drivers or jeepney drivers. Wouldn't it be great if we gave deserving people a fighting chance to make a living from their passions? You might wonder about the benefits it holds for Lopez Co., aside from helping the needy—which is the right thing to do," he mumbled the later part, before resuming in a normal volume.

"This would fulfill our requirement of corporate social responsibility, create good publicity, and in some way address our growing concern of employee loyalty."

Allen took the business proposal and devoured its content. Secretary Andrew stood by his side, answering Allen's questions with patience.

"This is going to be difficult to get approved by the board," said Allen, setting down the proposal. "I hope you knew this before you came to me."

"I know," Secretary Andrew nodded. "But we've handled far more difficult projects than this, haven't we?"

Yes, we have Allen wanted to say, but couldn't. Allen found this interesting on a personal level. Passion, huh? The idea itself took root in Allen's soul which would later bloom into a choice that would define him, regardless of the time it took. He wanted to thank his secretary. The notes and meals would not suffice.

But one day, as he pressed his ear on the door. He caught snippets of the conversation between Sonna, Claire, and Secretary Andrew. Please don't misunderstand, Allen was not stalking nor snooping, it was a field investigation.

"Oh, this one guy was so hot and so rich I could just eat him alive."

"Ms. Sonna!" Claire exclaimed.

"Sonna, please stop drooling over men and focus on our travel plans."

"Secretary Andrew, what places have you traveled to?"

After a pause, "I've only been around the cities. I couldn't travel much when I was young and now, I'm kind 'a too busy to travel."

"Mr. Allen should really give you more vacation time. After all, you're the first secretary to win an excellence award.

"Claire, shush. Everybody already knows how our perfect secretary is mistreated. Going back to our travel plans, this is perfect. Not the part where you couldn't travel because you were in an orphanage and all, but because you're practically a travel virgin."

"Ms. Sonna we're still in the office!"

"Claire be quiet. I want to be the one to take Secretary Andrew's travel virginity—"

Allen's hands balled into fists.

"We're going to finish off your travel list one by one. And we're going to make sure we all have hot men as dates until we finally reach the pinnacle of traveling.

"Which is?" Secretary Andrew drawled.

"Booking hotel rooms as a couple—" Sonna couldn't finish, because Allen burst through the doors equipped with a glare. Sonna and Claire curled up, greeted him in a hurry, then left.

Secretary Andrew stood from his table and asked Allen, "Do you need anything, Sir Allen?"

"I—"

And that's how Allen tricked Secretary Andrew into traveling to far-away places with him in the guise of business meetings. It wasn't all fake, but Allen greatly exaggerated the volume of the work and need to go to a mountain resort with a scenic view of Taal Volcano just to clear his mind.