Kilig (Elation)

by Jo Tannah

Kilig - Jo Tannah
Part of the Tales From The Archipelago series:
  • Kilig (Elation)
Editions:ePub - First Edition: $ 4.99
ISBN: 978-1-4874-0979-1
Pages: 156
Paperback - First Edition: $ 6.50
ISBN: 1487410670
Pages: 164

A chance meeting. A forever kind of romance. Love can happen most unexpectedly.

Louie Montenegro works for one of the country’s largest property developers. Although his job demands long hours both in the office and unscheduled work trips all over the country, it’s a job he loves. On his first trip to Bacolod, one of the greenest, competitive, livable and highly urbanized mid-sized cities in the Philippines, he meets Carl delos Santos, a successful businessman in his own right.

At twenty, Carl faced a family-run business in near ruins and the burden of paying off enormous debts. For ten years, he focused all of his attention on reclaiming his family legacy. Now he heads one of the region’s most successful department store chains.

A chance meeting with Louie in a local car wash leads both men to an unanticipated romance. But when Louie's company recalls him to Manila, he faces a future without Carl. Will Louie choose career over love?


Chapter One
Louie tried to remain inconspicuous as he weaved carefully through the maze of white Monobloc chairs occupied by roughly twenty people waiting for their cars to be serviced. Some looked up when he neared them and went back to whatever activity they were doing, but the rest ignored him. No one spoke, and the silence was only broken by the low volume coming from a local program on the television.
He stepped up to where a commercial coffee maker sat on a three-tiered bookshelf filled with a mix-match of foiled snacks. Taped on the machine, a handwritten note boasted VERY VERY HOT COFFEE! FREE!! Picking up a Styrofoam cup from a tall stack beside it, he placed it under the spout and watched the dark brew flow—the steam floating up to his nose.
Louie took a sniff and beamed wide as the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his nostrils.


Avoiding the white sugar packets, he reached for the muscovado sugar and stirred in a teaspoon full, slowly stirring to preserve the crema, the thin layer of foam at the top. He’d learned new things, like appreciating that particular sugar, after moving to the capital city. According to his co-workers, it was the only way to take the bitter brew, and Louie knew when not to argue with them, especially after a highly convincing first sip. Also, they should know—the island was, after all, agriculturally dedicated to vast hectares of sugar plantations.
Taking a careful sip so as not to burn his tongue, he closed his eyes in bliss. The muscovado lent an earthy flavor to the native Arabica coffee. He found that out after asking the receptionist about the variety of coffee they served the first time he’d come there. Louie took a second sip. Hmm... perfect.
For a basic-looking place, the car wash café had just about the best coffee in town. Then again, the little city served great coffee everywhere. From what he’d learned in the two weeks since he’d moved there, the people of Bacolod, or Ilonggos as they preferred to be called, demanded only the best, barely tolerating instant versions.
Louie looked around for a place to sit. Off in one corner of the room stood a decrepit looking black leather sofa where a child lay sprawled on her back, focused on a gaming tablet in her hands. On the opposite corner sat a man quietly reading what looked like a local newspaper and taking a sip from his Styrofoam cup in between turning pages.
Louie took a steadying breath when he recognized the man he’d once heard the receptionist call Sir Carl. In his early thirties and of Filipino-Chinese ancestry, he had pale skin, short black hair, a clean shaven face, and was always well dressed. From the four times he’d seen him there—yes, he’d counted—it didn’t matter what clothes he wore, be they slacks or regular jeans. He looked sexy, especially when he smiled.
The first time Louie had seen that crooked smile, involuntary shivers had rippled down his spine, and his cock was quick to react. He’d only ever seen Carl in this particular car wash, never anywhere else, and he’d looked everywhere. He’d wanted to ask him out, but couldn’t risk getting publicly humiliated should Carl turn out to be straight, so he always made sure to avoid getting near him.
He didn’t want to ask the receptionist either, for the same reasons.
Whenever Carl was in the carwash, Louie would quietly observe him from a distance, and always surreptitiously. The way he held himself, it was not hard to miss that air of quiet confidence over his own capabilities. He’d seen the way the receptionist jumped to attention whenever Carl requested something from her. Otherwise, Louie had never seen him flaunt his authority like so many others did.
And that was a whole other thing—Louie had never heard the man raise his voice. In fact, he loved the softly spoken and confident manner in which Carl spoke, be it in English or in their dialect, to the staff. Louie briefly wondered if he owned the place.
Surveying the room, he looked around again for a spare place to sit, but all chairs were taken. Sipping on his coffee, he peered out through the glass wall. The wash bay beyond had about twenty or more cars lined up in a double row getting washed, waxed, or their leather interiors treated. The washer-boys worked in choreographed coordination from one task to the next, driving cars forward, then out when the assigned task was done. Louie’s pickup, a company vehicle assigned to him during his stay there, was going through an under-chassis wash. Even from where he stood, he could see the clumps of mud visibly falling to the ground.
Louie glanced around him again. Faced with no choice other than sit on the sofa or stand in a corner, he chose to sit down. Neither Carl nor the little girl took any notice of him when he sat at the center of the sofa, making sure to move carefully so his coffee didn’t spill.
The cushioned seat held for a long second before his butt suddenly began to sink. Louie felt his knees give way, then, and much to his astonishment, he heard a resounding snap. He had no time to react before he felt himself drop.
Down he went, and before he could even blink, his knees were almost touching his chest. Forgetting he held a cup in his hand, he instinctively braced with his hands on the sofa to try to heave his body up. When he felt something splash over his arm, he ignored it until a numbing, almost icy feeling began to spread quickly over his skin. The burning sensation came a second later. Too quickly, a stinging heat overwhelmed his senses.
“Putang ina,” he exclaimed in pained surprise. Belatedly he realized he’d spilled the hot coffee over his unprotected arm. He instinctively began to shake away the pain, forgetting about the cup in his hand, causing more of the hot liquid to spill over his skin. Sensitized nerve endings screamed in protest, sending wild tingles of confusing hot and cold sensations washing over the entirety of his arm. He let go of the cup, and it fell to the floor by his feet.
Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth against the pain, he barely noticed the scuffle and raised voices around him. He hardly felt the hands that firmly grasped him from under his arms and lifted him up to his feet. Breathing through the waves of pain, Louie found himself held up in someone’s arms as something cool and wet was placed over the heat that seemed to be coming from beneath his skin, not over it. The drop in temperature eased the burning feeling somewhat, but only just.
Worried voices and one firm, authoritative voice spoke around him, but he couldn’t understand the dialect. Louie finally opened his eyes and looked down at the dripping wet white towel wrapped around his arm. Beside him, the panic-stricken receptionist spoke rapidly to someone on her cell phone with her eyes wide as she gaped at him.
“Never mind calling Amity to send an ambulance over,” said the man who still had his arms around Louie. “The hospital’s just a street over, and my car’s done. Have someone get it, and I’ll take him over there myself.”
“Yes, Sir Carl,” the receptionist said. Louie watched as she rushed over to an intercom on her table, clicked on a switch and spoke rapidly into it, again in the local dialect. Another wave of intense heat caught him off guard, making him hiss through his teeth.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you to the ER. What’s the pain level now, one to ten? Ten being highest,” Carl said near his ear.
“Right now, it’s a good nine,” he gasped out, closing his eyes. Louie hissed again after he tried moving his fingers. He gripped his thigh with his other hand in an effort to ground himself, breathing through the dipping and peaking waves of pulsing agony.
“All right, just breathe through it,” Carl said calmly. Louie did as he was instructed and focused on looking out through glass partition. A white Land Cruiser with black tinted windows skidded to a stop in the releasing bay. The door opened, and a man jumped out holding the door ajar.
“Okay, my car’s here. Can you walk with me to the car?” Carl asked.
Louie blinked, his vision suddenly blurring as an intense throbbing pain shot through his arm, but he gave a determined nod. Carl walked him quickly toward the exit, through the glass door being held open by a bare-chested wash boy. He looked around him and saw many worried faces among the onlookers.
Carl led him to the passenger side. Once Louie was settled in the plush seat, Carl snapped the seatbelt on and slammed the door shut. Seconds later, he eased into the driver’s seat, putting on his own seatbelt before releasing the handbrake. The speed of their exit from the carwash would normally have worried Louie, as the side roads leading out of the place were quite narrow and littered with potholes. But with the pain becoming increasingly unbearable, hegasped out again, wishing Carl would drive faster.

Reviews:Momaloves GremoryKohta on Goodreads wrote:

When I started reading this story, I expected it to be mildly entertaining at best. Let me tell you how wrong I was. I was thinking I would be bombarded with an abundance of culture with a speedy romance of two people force mashed together. This could not have been more wrong. What you get is two strong characters with a compelling story. Louie is a lawyer who works for his cousin and best friend’s company. Then you have Marc who owns a successful chain of stores. Marc’s sister Lisa was a joy to read as well.
One of the things that most enticed me about this book was where it is based. It centers around to big cities in the Philippines. Louie’s company is based in Manila. They send him to work in Bacolod, which is where Marc lives and works. Throughout the book, the author shows the culture and some of the words, phrases, and expressions used. Thankfully there is a glossary in the back of the book. What was an added bonus was getting some facts and a little bit of the island’s history. All this, while maintaining the story.

Also, I loved the pace of the relationship. From the first meeting to the happy conclusion nothing felt rushed or pushed. The timing from their first meeting to their first date was very realistic. It’s what you would expect from two very busy business men. While some steps were faster than others, you’re left with the feeling of it being the natural progression. The time flowed smoothly.

The troubles and concerns matched perfectly to the country’s culture. I found this to be a sweet romance that also taught me about a culture I’m not familiar with. The mannerisms of the society were described so you could fully understand how their community functions. Who was respected and why. Overall, this was a diverse story of love and culture.

About the Author

I grew up listening to folk tales my father and nannies told either to entertain us children or to send home a message. These narratives I kept with me and finally, I wrote them down in a journal way back when I kept one. Going through junk led to a long forgotten box and in it was the journal. Reading over the stories of romance, science fiction and horror I had taken time to put to paper, brought to light that these were tales I never met in my readings.
The tales I write are fictional but all of them are based on what I grew up with and still dream about. That they have an M/M twist is simply for my pleasure. And I hope, yours as well.

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