Until You

Charlie, please?

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Sid pointed over his shoulder. "My boxing gym's nearby, and I just finished a session, so I thought I'd drop by and grab a bite here." A shy smile stretched across his lips. "And say hi."

Was he for real? "Well...hi." Charlie stood up, and as soon as she was eye-level with him, the flutters that started in her stomach got stronger. "Are you ordering from us or...?"

"I was planning to, but you look like you're on a break?" Sid leaned forward on the counter, eyes meeting hers. "Long day?"

His focus was making Charlie feel suddenly very conscious of how she looked, especially with how Sid looked like a fresh angel in front of her. "Yeah, you could say that."

"What help do you need? My offer still stands."

"No, we're okay. We don't need help."

"Ate!" Fay admonished behind her.

His eyes flickered over her shoulder, then back at her. "Are you sure? I'm free until tonight."

"Sid, we're fine—"

"Ate Charlie, please." Fay was now standing beside her, the desperation in her voice making them both look at her. "Please, even just for tonight. We still haven't assembled the deliveries."

Shoot, right. They've wasted enough time here now. Charlie looked at Fay's distraught face, then back at Sid, whose expression was so pure and earnest that it felt almost physically impossible to say no. "Do you know how to cook?"

Sid nodded. "And chop and roll and whatever you need. I also know how to operate the register, but I'd understand if you don't want me to handle the money. I'm happy to do anything you need or want me to."

Why was Sid doing this? To what end? No one could be this nice, right, especially Sid Agustin, the one who ghosted her who doesn't seem to remember that he did that. And why was she being so soft toward him?

But there was no time for these thoughts, and they needed to get to work. Charlie still asked, anyway. "You sure?"

Sid nodded, his eyes brightening with his grin. "One hundred percent sure."

Well, then. Charlie walked toward the back entrance, pulled the door open, and turned back to him. "Okay then. Come in."

* * *

"Thank you, enjoy your meal!"

Silence fell in their stall as Charlie watched the customer walk away with their takeaway paper bag.

"Is that...our last?" Fay asked, her voice so soft as if she was afraid that another customer would suddenly show up in front of them if she spoke any louder.

Charlie glanced at their computer screen, where the order queue was now gloriously empty. "Yes, I think it's our last. We're done for the day."

Fay let out a little shriek, hugging her from behind before skipping back to start cleaning up. Charlie watched her go with a smile before turning to the other side of the stall, where Sid washed the dishes.

As if sensing her attention, he looked up at her. "Great job."

Charlie smiled back. "Let's close up."

The three of them spent the next half hour cleaning up, with Fay giving more instructions to Sid while Charlie focused on counting the money and making sure their numbers lined up. The rest of NomCom was still bustling since Open Mic Night was still ongoing, but most of the people who were there now were more interested in drinks or dessert for nightcap than a lettuce wrap.

Soon, the three of them stood outside the stall, the loud click of the padlock signifying the end of another workday. With a relieved sigh, Charlie turned to Sid and Fay. "Thank you. We did well today."

"You're welcome." Sid smiled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "So, what time do you need me tomorrow?"

"Whatever time you can be here for deliveries."

"No, I mean to help you."

Charlie shook her head. "No, Sid, don't worry about that. We'll be fine tomorrow."

"But Ate," Fay tugged at her sleeve. "Tomorrow is Saturday, remember?"

"What about Saturday?" Sid asked.

"It's almost like Friday with the number of people that come to NomCom. Except we don't have any online orders. But the work is almost the same."

"So, you could use help."

Fay nodded. "Definitely."

"Um, hello?" Charlie waved a hand to catch their attention. "I'm right here? Shouldn't I be part of this discussion?"

"Ate Charlie," Fay whined. "You know it's true. We get our best sales on the weekend."

"Yes, but we also shouldn't impose on Sid."

"You're not imposing," he piped up. "I really want to help."

Charlie turned to him. "Sid, you don't have to do this. We can find someone else."

"But I really want to. I don't have much to do tomorrow, and you could save time looking for someone and training because I already know how to do things your way." There he goes again, looking at her with those wide, earnest eyes.

Fay nodded vigorously beside Sid, and Charlie couldn't help but feel cornered, but at the same time, touched at how willing he was to help. How did they get here, even? Just a couple of days ago, he was practically a stranger to her, and now he's pleading to help her.

Except that...Sid wasn't exactly a stranger. She'd known him, albeit virtually, for almost a month. Sure, it was still strange how he seemed to be acting like he didn't remember her...but maybe he was just embarrassed? Maybe he really was making up for things.

"Ate Charlie, please?"

"Yes, Charlie, please?"

Oh, now this was just illegal, the way he's pouting at her like that. Resisting the urge to smile, she let out a mock exasperated sigh and said, "Fine, Sid can help."

They cheered, and Charlie let out a laugh when she saw Sid clapping his hands happily. She was right; he was a clapping guy.

"But on one condition!"

"What?"

"It will be paid work, not free."

Sid opened his mouth to argue, but Charlie shook her head firmly. "I will pay you for your labor. If you're spending the whole day here, then at least I want you to be compensated for it. And if you say no, you can't help."

He thought about it for a few seconds, a cute little line forming between his brows, then shrugged. "Fine."

They shook hands, and Charlie tried not to think of the feel of his hand against hers, how his palm was soft, how the calluses on his fingertips rubbed against her skin. She remembered asking him before in their chats if he played any musical instrument, and he had told her about how he learned how to play the guitar because of his friends. Charlie found herself smiling at the memory.

"Thank you for letting me help you," he said sincerely, squeezing her hand gently for a few more seconds before letting go.

She should be the one thanking him, but she didn't say anything anymore because the conversation would just go around and around, and they still had to go home. But she wasn't going to deny the kilig that fluttered inside her and how she was suddenly looking even more forward to work the next day.