Chapter 92: Let’s Have a Dance
They both entered arm-in-arm towards the main floor where the crowds turned their eyes on them and clapped.
"Most of the guests here are the wealthiest businessmen in the Philippines. We can do a lot of networking here," Timothy said.
"Mr. Guerrero, even after this time you are still thinking of work?" Hana chuckled softly. "For once please enjoy it a little. I have seen you always working behind the desk. And...I do want to have a break too."
Timothy glanced at Hana who was smiling beautifully. "Is that so? Well, if you say so, we can just enjoy the night here with dances and drinks. Speaking of dance, may I have this one?"
Hana blinked, momentarily taken aback, then smiled softly as she placed her hand into his. "You may," she replied, her voice barely above the music.
The orchestra began to play a slow, elegant waltz as Timothy guided her toward the center of the ballroom. The lights dimmed slightly, focusing on the marble floor where other couples were already moving in graceful rhythm. When they stepped onto the floor, it was as if the noise around them faded—leaving only the gentle melody of strings and the quiet thump of his heartbeat.
Timothy placed one hand on her waist, feeling the delicate fabric of her gown beneath his palm, while her other hand rested lightly on his shoulder. Their eyes met briefly—long enough for both to feel the faint tension that lingered between professionalism and something far more personal.
"You dance well, Mr. Guerrero," Hana teased as they began to move.
"I should," he replied with a small grin. "We had a performance task about ballroom dance back in my high school days. Never thought I’d actually use it in real life."
Hana laughed softly, the sound light and melodic, drawing a few glances from nearby guests. "Well, it’s paying off now."
They moved gracefully across the floor, her gown flowing like liquid gold with every spin. The faint scent of her perfume, subtle and floral, filled the space between them, and Timothy found it hard to focus on anything else.
After a few turns, he leaned slightly closer and whispered, "You were right earlier. I’ve been working too much lately."
"I’m glad you noticed," she said, her gaze lifting to meet his again. "You deserve to breathe once in a while, Mr. Guerrero. The world can wait for a few hours."
Timothy chuckled quietly, the corners of his mouth softening. "If I knew this is what taking a break feels like, maybe I’d have done it sooner."
For a fleeting moment, Timothy forgot about semiconductor deals, electric vehicles, or headlines. There was only Hana, the way her hair caught the light, the warmth of her hand in his, the faint flush on her cheeks as she looked up at him.
When the song neared its end, he twirled her once, catching her gently as the final note hung in the air. Applause erupted from the surrounding tables, but neither of them looked away.
"See?" Hana said softly, smiling. "Not everything needs to be about business."
"Maybe not," Timothy admitted. "But sometimes the best partnerships... aren’t built in boardrooms."
For a brief moment, they simply stood there in the center of the ballroom, his hand still around her waist, her fingers still resting gently on his shoulder.
Their eyes met again.
Timothy could see the faint rise and fall of her chest, the way the warm lights shimmered across her skin. Hana’s lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but no words came. The space between them seemed to shrink on its own, as if the music, the atmosphere, and every invisible thread around them were pulling them closer.
His heartbeat quickened. He could feel the heat radiating from her, the delicate scent of her perfume filling the air between them.
"Mr. Guerrero..." Hana whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Timothy," he corrected softly. "Just... Timothy."
She blinked once, surprised—but didn’t pull away. Their faces were now only inches apart. Her gaze flickered briefly down to his lips, then back up to his eyes.
Time slowed.
He leaned in slightly, hesitant, testing the line between impulse and restraint. She didn’t move away. Instead, she tilted her chin up just a little, closing the distance even further until their breaths mingled, warm and unsteady.
For a heartbeat, it felt inevitable.
But then—Hana drew in a quick breath, catching herself. Her eyes widened slightly as she realized how close they were. Timothy froze as well, the edge of reality snapping back into place. Their lips were barely an inch apart.
Neither spoke.
They stayed like that for a second, caught between temptation and self-control—before Hana slowly stepped back, her composure returning in fragments. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink, her gaze darting away for a moment before she managed a small, nervous laugh.
"I—uh... I think we should probably sit down before people start talking," she murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Timothy blinked, exhaled softly, and let out a quiet laugh of his own. "Right... of course."
He straightened his jacket, forcing a calm he didn’t quite feel. "Wouldn’t want to make headlines for the wrong reasons."
They walked side by side, heading back toward their reserved table near the center of the ballroom. The crowd still buzzed with chatter, the sound of clinking glasses and laughter filling the air as the orchestra transitioned into another soft melody.
Timothy tried to keep his composure, though his heart still hadn’t completely settled from that near moment they shared. Hana, for her part, was just as flustered—her cheeks still carried a faint blush, and she kept her gaze slightly down, as if the marble floor had suddenly become very interesting.
Just as they were about to reach their seats, a familiar voice called from behind.
"Timothy? Timothy Guerrero? Is that really you?"
He stopped mid-step and turned.
Standing a few meters away was a woman in an elegant light-blue gown, her hair tied in a neat bun, a glass of champagne in one hand. Her expression was one of delighted surprise, eyes wide and bright.
For a moment, Timothy’s mind raced through faces of the past—then recognition struck. "Tiffany... Co?"
She grinned. "Oh my God, it is you!"
Timothy let out a quiet chuckle as she approached. "Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here. It’s been...months."
"Right...months," she said, laughing softly. "I didn’t expect my tutor would be this successful."
Hana tilted her head curiously beside him. "Oh? You used to tutor?"
Timothy smiled faintly. "Yeah. Tiffany and I were classmates at the University of the Philippines. I used to help her with math."
"He saved me from failing more than once," Tiffany laughed.
Her tone was warm, nostalgic. Then she turned her attention toward Hana, her smile softening but her curiosity unmistakable. "And who might this be? Girlfriend?"
Both Timothy and Hana froze.
For a second, neither spoke, the word hung in the air like a spark waiting to catch fire.
Hana blinked, her lips parting slightly, while Timothy quickly waved his hand, laughing nervously.
"Ah, no, no, nothing like that. This is Hana, my... personal secretary."
"Oh?" Tiffany said, raising an amused brow, clearly unconvinced. "You two looked pretty close out there on the dance floor."
That made Hana’s blush return, deeper than before. "We were just... dancing," she managed, her tone polite but slightly flustered.
Timothy scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, it was just one dance. You know, part of the event."
Tiffany smiled knowingly, sipping her drink. "Mhm. Sure, Mr. CEO." Then she chuckled lightly. "Anyway, I just wanted to say, I saw the development of your company. The whole partnership with NVIDIA? That’s insane, Timothy. I knew you were ambitious, but I didn’t think you’d go this big. Electric vehicles and semiconductors? You’re practically rewriting the country’s economy."
Timothy’s expression softened with modesty. "It’s been a long road, but we’re just getting started."
"Well, I’m proud of you," Tiffany said genuinely. "Back then, you said you were going to drop out and do business, I didn’t expect it to be in this scale."
He smiled faintly, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "Yeah... I did."
After a short pause, Tiffany excused herself to greet another group nearby. "It was great seeing you again, Timothy. And Ms. Hana,it was lovely meeting you. I’ll be cheering for the success of your company."
"Thank you," Hana said with a polite bow.
As Tiffany walked away, Timothy exhaled quietly, trying not to smile too much.
"She’s nice," Hana said, glancing sideways at him.
"She is," Timothy replied. "Didn’t think I’d ever see her again."
"Seems she remembers you fondly," Hana teased lightly, though her tone carried a subtle edge of curiosity.
Timothy chuckled, catching the hint. "Relax. She’s just an old classmate."
"I didn’t say anything," Hana replied, though the slight pout forming on her lips said otherwise.
He grinned. "You didn’t have to."
She shot him a sidelong glare that quickly melted into a reluctant smile. "You’re impossible sometimes."
"And yet you still work for me," he quipped.
"That’s because someone has to keep you from overworking yourself," she replied, crossing her arms playfully.
Timothy laughed softly, holding out a chair for her as they finally reached their table. "Then I guess I’m lucky to have you, Ms. Seo."
As Hana sat down, she smiled faintly, glancing at him from across the table. "You really are, Mr. Guerrero."
"Let’s have a drink!"