When in doubt, ask Ryan. That's what I always did and when he said almost the exact same things as Ms. Amanda, it made me feel a bit silly for even thinking that they were being bribed. But then again, I never mentioned that I saw Kuya Ernie hauling boxes of so-called tokens to the trunk. I decided to let it slip. It's just coffee. Maybe Ms. Amanda ordered some personally.

Still, I couldn't shake the feeling of doubt. I knew I had to be certain to keep my peace of mind and when Sally noticed how dubious I was of everything, she managed to talk me into "investigating" it personally. I agreed with her right away. I wished I should've asked more about this investigating thing because as it turned out, investigating personally translated that I would ask Mr. Sol himself!

I wanted to smack myself for agreeing to this ridiculous idea. What in the name of roasted coffee beans was I thinking traveling all the way to Villa Del Sol, not the one in Makati Or Quezon City, but the main café itself in Tagaytay! I was still contemplating on whether I'd smack Sally too for talking me into this. It was too late though, we were already heading south when I figured out where Sally was taking me.

"It's for your peace of mind, Jazz," Sally laughed when I still glared at her over the top of the menu. "Besides, this place is amazing." She beamed outside the window her where neat rows pineapples were planted on the side of the café. A mini organic farm abundant with various herbs and vegetables occupied the rest of the property before it ended in a wall covered in vines which marked the boundary of Villa Del Sol estate.

"How did you even know he'd be here?" I asked her. It still surprises me how Sally managed to stalk the guy. All that I knew about him was that he owns three branches of the café plus some small hotel in Tagaytay, nothing more.

"It's all thanks to the power of Twitter and Instagram," Sally smiled wickedly.

"And you're unbelievable stalking skills," I added, pondering over the nice selection of menu that Villa Del Sol offers.

Sally pouted at me. "For your information, Mr. Sol is slightly popular. He's been featured in several magazines and lifestyle blogs. Besides, he is bestfriends with the Bryce Javier."

"Oh," I replied, frowning slightly. I had no idea who this Bryce Javier was and why Sally was emphasizing him. Sally gasped and looked at me astonishingly.

"Please don't tell me you don't know who Bryce Javier is," she said without missing a beat.

"Okay, then I won't tell you I don't know who Bryce Javier is," I answered.

"No way!" she shrieked. Several of the people sitting near us all turned to look us. One of the café staff craned his neck in our direction to see what the problem was. Sally looked at them apologetically while I buried my face in the menu.

"Stop making a fuss! Mr. Sol might think we're here to stir up some trouble or something," I whispered at her while sipping the cucumber water served to us earlier.

"Sorry, it's just unbelievable that you don't know -," Sally's eyes widened.

"OMG, That's Bryce!"

I turned to look where she was looking and saw some unfortunate guy standing in the mini farm, obscured by a flock of girls taking selfies with him.

"Oh, so who exactly is this Bryce Javier?" I asked but when I turned back, her seat was empty. I found her already scrambling to the door with the other girls rushing outside. "Never mind," I murmured to myself, my eyes following her as she tried to get past a mob of girls.

"He won a singing contest in television."

A strong woody scent of men's perfume mixed with blueberries, caramel and coffee wafted in the air. I turned around and my breath got caught in my throat when I saw Mr. Sol holding a piece of cake, which he placed in front of me.

I felt something stirring in my tummy and I tried to convince myself that it was a result of hunger. Like how drinking doesn't mix well with driving, mouthwatering cakes served by an equally drool-worthy server, did not help my case either. This guy knew how to use his assets to his advantage. I despise him for using that on me, but not as much as I hated him because it worked on me.

I felt the dryness in my throat and wisely shut my mouth which I haven't noticed was slightly opened. I cleared my throat.

"We haven't ordered yet."

"I know. Don't worry. It's in the house," he said casually.

He sat at the couch opposite of me, the corner of his lips slightly turning up. I've seen that smile before. It was his business smile, the smile that was printed on the magazines and blog features about him that Sally showed me. It was his smile that was plastered on his face but didn't reach his eyes.

"Thank you but you don't really have to do that. I'll pay for it," I replied immediately.

He frowned at me. "You're a guest at my café. You came all the way from Manila. The least I can do is to offer you some food."

He looked straight in my eyes and I stared back at him. I didn't want to shy away from his stares but he must have been doing this for a longer time than I have because I looked down and turned my attention to the light-colored cake dotted with blueberries and topped with brown crumbs.

"We're just passing by," I lied.

"You might be staying for quite a while," he said as he indicated Sally who was still trying to get some pictures. He looked at the cake which remained untouched. "Try it, it's good," he urged.

I looked at the cake tentatively and took a small bite. My eyes widened when my tongue tasted the crunchy caramelized crust, sweet blueberries and the soft coffee cake. It was a perfect marriage of flavors.

"It's good, isn't it?" Mr. Sol amusedly remarked. There was a twinkle in his eyes that wasn't there before and I'm a bit worried at how ridiculous I must've looked when I tasted that cake to make him smile that way. I was sure I didn't wolf down the cake like a hungry savage. I furtively wiped my mouth with the table napkin in case my face was messy.

"Yes. It's really good," I replied. I sipped from the tall glass of cucumber water to wash down the cake. "My compliments to the chef. I don't usually like coffee, but this is quite something."

"You're welcome," he replied. He looked extremely pleased, his smile widening a bit more.

"You made this?" I was surprised.

"Yes. It's one of café specialties that helped me expand my business."

"You have talent, it's really good," I answered. I took another bite and savored the rich blend of coffee and blueberries and then I remembered the canister of coffee he gave us. I straightened up and looked him in the eye. "Thank you for the coffee canister."

"You're welcome." His voice went back to his usual business tone. "Though, you did say you don't like coffee. I could've sent you this cake instead. Is that why you came here, to thank me for the coffee?"

I tore my eyes away from him and looked at my cake instead. "I saw Kuya Ernie at the parking lot."

"It would be wise if you would keep that a secret," he coldly replied. "Your boss and I would appreciate that."

"Why are you doing this, Mr. Sol? It's not right to buy favors. You can't buy me with your tokens," I boldly said. Mr. Sol gave me a calculating look.

"With a slice of cake? Probably not," he retorted. I narrowed eyes at him. "I already told you why I am doing this."

"If you really believe you can help the people of my province with your business, why don't you do it the right way?" I questioned him.

"I did. I tried doing it the right way but it didn't work," he replied, carefully evaluating me with his iron gaze. "That is not how you play business and politics. The right way of doing things is playing along with game. It's either you play or you're out of the game. And I'm telling you Ms. Jazz, I am not backing out of this one and I don't intend on losing either."

I swallowed the lump that formed on my throat. My lips were pursed together, my teeth biting the back of my lips as I resisted the urge to lash out at him for his stubbornness.

"You're intentions are good, Mr. Sol, but can you live knowing that the fruit of your good deeds was sowed from dishonest means?" I asked him.

I was surprised to see sadness crossing his eyes momentarily before it went back to the emotionless pits he often wore.

"You're an honest lady, Ms. Jazz. I respect that. The world could use more of people like you." He leaned forward and whispered, "What you saw at the parking lot is just the tip of the iceberg. Many things are happening that are cloaked from your eyes. It's quite unfortunate that someone as honest and trusting as you is thrown in the pits with them. Please be careful of who you are confronting with matters like this. Others are not as kind and forgiving as I am."

"Are you threatening me, Mr. Sol?" I raised my voice slightly, enough for him to hear my indignation.

"No, Ms. Jazz. I am warning you," he replied sincerely. The sadness on his eyes was back as he regarded me cautiously. There was something at the way he looked that made me trust in what he said. He must've sensed it because I felt his warm calloused hands holding my hand that was resting on top of the table. "I like you, Ms. Jazz and I don't want anything bad happening to you. Please, be careful."

I was speechless. I had never seen this side of him. The Mr. Sol I knew was strong and stubborn.

We sat there looking at each other, trying to read what the other was thinking. The warmth of his hands soothed me, as if his touch could shield me from whatever he has warned me about.

For once, Mr. Sol was the first to break away from our staring match. He immediately withdrew his hand from mine, leaving an tingling sensation crawling up my arms to my spines and made my stomach flutter. His gaze shifted to a spot behind me, in the direction of the entrance of the café where there was scuffling and loud giggling. I turned around and saw Sally with the mob of girls following a familiar looking guy.

"I told him to use the backdoor," Mr. Sol muttered disapprovingly.

He pulled a white envelope from his jacket and placed it in front of me, beside the small saucer containing the blueberry coffee cake. I eyed it suspiciously.

"Please, give this to Representative Mateo. It's an invitation for an activity sponsored by Villa Del Sol," he explained.

"I can't assure you that Ms. Amanda will attend," I told him.

"It's still months away. She might change her mind," he replied. "Though, it would be better if you could come along."

Before I could even respond, Mr. Sol was already on his feet. He reached out to my hand and shook it.

"I look forward to seeing you again, Ms. Jazz," he smiled, only this time, it wasn't his business smile. He held on to my hand a little longer before walking towards the newcomer who was stirring commotion in the quiet café with the shuttering sounds and blinding flashes of camera phones taken by a flock of giggling girls, including Sally.