Chapter 24 - Bigger, Not Busier
By twenty-six, the business was bigger.
Not dramatically.
Not empire.
Not even close.
But definitely bigger than the one-room operation I had started with.
More clients.
More equipment.
More employees.
More money moving through the account.
More things that could go wrong.
And somehow—
I was working fewer hours than I had at twenty-four.
That part still felt suspicious.
Abigail had become impossible to classify as an assistant.
She handled operations.
Scheduling.
Client follow-ups.
Routine quotations.
Production coordination.
Supply checks.
And most importantly—
things happened without me.
Good things.
Fixes.
Decisions.
Small problems solved before they ever reached my desk.
The first few months, I kept asking—
"What happened?"
Abigail would say—
"Naayos na po."
Which was deeply offensive to my control issues.
Eventually—
I learned to enjoy it.
Mostly.
Bea stayed production.
Claire became faster and more confident with fulfillment and inventory.
Ella settled into the morning shift.
Then—
we hired again.
Not because I was collecting people.
Because the numbers said we needed more hands.
One production assistant.
Then later—
one admin support role.
No dramatic onboarding.
No speech.
No family culture.
Just proper work.
Proper pay.
Proper expectations.
Very boring.
Very healthy.
Julia became one of our best clients.
Not biggest.
Best.
There was a difference.
She handled several school and institutional events.
Graduations.
Recognition programs.
Seminars.
Faculty materials.
ID-related printing.
Occasional tarpaulin and signage jobs through partner suppliers.
She sent proper files.
Proper dates.
Proper approvals.
I almost wanted to give her a discount just for respecting version control.
I did not.
Love had limits.
One afternoon, Julia came by with a folder.
Actual folder.
I smiled.
"You're my favorite."
She laughed.
"Because I bring organized files?"
"Yes."
"Not because I pay on time?"
"That too."
She sat across from me.
"We have another event."
"Okay."
"Bigger."
"How bigger?"
She showed me the scope.
I stared.
Then looked again.
Programs.
Certificates.
Name cards.
Event signage.
Souvenir inserts.
Several hundred folders.
Multiple departments.
Enough that two years earlier—
I would have said yes immediately.
Then panicked later.
Current Lia asked—
"Final deadline?"
She gave it.
"Approval schedule?"
She gave that too.
"Who signs off?"
"One person."
I almost cried.
"Julia."
"What?"
"Nothing. Continue."
The job was large.
But manageable.
Not by me.
By the team.
That was the difference.
Abigail built the production schedule.
Bea estimated machine time.
Claire and Ella checked fulfillment capacity.
I reviewed pricing.
Margins.
Risk.
Then approved.
Done.
No late nights.
No heroic music.
No "team, kaya natin 'to."
We just—
did the job.
Correctly.
After that event, Julia referred us to another organization.
Then another.
We started getting more institutional work.
Recurring.
Predictable.
Better volume.
Better payment behavior.
And suddenly—
the workspace was too small again.
There it was.
The old itch.
Expand.
Move.
Buy.
Build.
But this time—
I waited.
Three months.
Measured.
Checked capacity.
Checked staff movement.
Checked storage.
Checked whether the problem was actually space—
or poor layout.
It was space.
Good.
Finally.
We moved.
Again.
Not to some ridiculous building.
Not a warehouse.
Just—
a larger commercial unit.
Better access.
Better electrical load.
More storage.
Separate admin area.
Production section.
Packing section.
Small pantry.
Actual restroom.
Luxury.
Papa inspected it before signing.
Of course.
Electrical.
Roof.
Drainage.
Parking.
Neighbors.
Water.
Mama checked whether the area felt safe.
Sofia checked signal.
Ate Bianca checked whether she could steal shelf space.
"No."
"I didn't ask."
"You were about to."
Kuya Nathan laughed.
Ate Vivian looked around.
"Mas malaki."
"Yes."
"Mas mahal."
"Yes."
"Worth it?"
"Yes."
Papa nodded.
"Eh di okay."
Family due diligence complete.
This time, moving was easier.
Because I did almost none of it myself.
That was new.
Abigail coordinated the move.
Bea handled production equipment.
Claire and Ella handled stock.
I approved the layout.
Signed.
Paid.
Answered questions.
Then—
stayed out of the way.
At one point I tried carrying a box.
Abigail took it from me.
"Ma'am."
"What?"
"You have a meeting."
"I can carry one box."
"I know."
"Then?"
"Go."
I stared.
She stared back.
I went.
Unbelievable.
The new space opened without ceremony.
Again.
No ribbon.
No balloon arch.
No inspirational speech.
Just work.
By then, I had learned that businesses did not need to look impressive to become important.
Sofia also started something.
Small.
Beauty products.
At first, she tested a few items online.
Nothing huge.
A few orders.
Some classmates.
Some referrals.
Then—
repeat buyers.
She showed me her first proper costing sheet.
I stared.
"Good."
She narrowed her eyes.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
"No corrections?"
"One."
She sighed.
"There."
"Packaging cost."
She checked.
"Fuck."
Mama shouted from the kitchen—
"Language!"
"Sorry, Ma!"
I laughed.
Ramos family tradition continued.
Sofia started asking fewer questions.
Better questions.
Good sign.
Then one day—
she didn't ask me anything.
She just showed me the result.
A better product bundle.
Better margin.
Cleaner pricing.
Good product photos.
I looked at her.
She smiled.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Say it."
"You're learning."
She rolled her eyes.
"Obviously."
Good.
Ate Bianca's jewelry business continued growing too.
More products.
Better systems.
Better packaging.
Still occasional chaotic decisions.
Still profitable.
Kuya Nathan and Ate Vivian added another product line and finally stopped treating promotions like acts of charity.
Everyone improved.
Not because I became family CEO.
Thank God.
They learned their own way.
I just—
answered when asked.
Sometimes.
Celeste's tutorial center became real.
Not huge.
But stable.
Grace handled English.
Celeste handled Science and Math.
Then they added another part-time tutor later.
The signboard stayed.
The plastic chairs became better chairs.
The waiting area got a small water dispenser.
Celeste sent me photos of every upgrade like I had invested.
I had not.
One message:
look
New whiteboard.
I replied—
congrats
Then—
also
Photo.
Celeste in front of the whiteboard.
I stared.
you could have just sent the whiteboard
where's the fun in that
I laughed.
are you flirting today
Pause.
maybe
I locked the phone.
No.
Not participating.
Jane and Chloe remained part of my life.
Not always together.
Not always available.
Sometimes coffee.
Sometimes dinner.
Sometimes random chat for three days then nothing for two weeks.
Normal.
No disappearance.
That was enough.
At twenty-six, something else changed.
I started being recognized.
Not famous.
God no.
But locally—
business owners knew the name.
People referred clients.
Some said—
"Kay Lia ka magpagawa."
Or—
"Ask Lia."
Or—
"May system 'yan."
Which was flattering.
And mildly concerning.
Because once people think you're good at fixing things—
they start bringing you everything.
Business problems.
Pricing problems.
Supplier problems.
People problems.
Life problems.
I had boundaries.
Mostly.
One afternoon, Julia asked—
"Do you consult?"
I looked at her.
"For?"
"Operations."
"No."
She laughed.
"Why no agad?"
"Because I have a business."
"You're good at it."
"Thank you."
"People would pay."
"I know."
She stared.
"You know?"
"Yes."
"Then?"
I smiled.
"Not everything profitable needs to become another business."
She leaned back.
"Okay."
Then—
"That's annoyingly mature."
"Thank you."
"Not compliment."
"Still taking it."
Isabella had permanently altered my vocabulary.
The money grew.
That part happened almost quietly.
At twenty-three—
every order mattered.
At twenty-four—
every month mattered.
At twenty-five—
recurring accounts stabilized things.
At twenty-six—
the business had enough cash that one slow week no longer felt like danger.
I paid myself properly.
Built reserves.
Invested.
Kept personal money separate.
Boring.
Beautiful.
Original Lia had eventually learned all of that too.
Just—
after bleeding first.
Current Lia preferred skipping the bleeding.
And because I was apparently committed to making my second life offensively well-balanced—
I traveled.
Not far.
Not for months.
Just—
trips.
Subic again.
Tagaytay.
A weekend in Baguio.
One family trip.
One trip with Jane and Chloe where Chloe forgot something important and blamed everyone else.
I took pictures.
A lot more pictures.
Food.
Roads.
People.
Bad selfies.
Sunsets.
No ROI.
The first time I left for three full days, I checked the business group chat seventeen times before noon.
Abigail finally messaged privately.
Ma'am
what
enjoy your trip
I stared.
i am
then stop checking
I looked around.
Jane was beside me.
Chloe across.
Both watching.
Jane smiled.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're judging."
"Yes."
Chloe:
"Understandable."
I put the phone away.
Two hours.
Then four.
Then until dinner.
Nothing burned.
Again.
By twenty-seven, the business had crossed another line.
Not empire.
Still not even close.
But—
serious.
Multiple recurring institutional accounts.
Corporate work.
Packaging.
Events.
Partnerships for services we didn't produce in-house.
More employees.
Better equipment.
Better margins.
Abigail running operations most days.
Me spending more time on strategy, finance, key relationships, and deciding what not to do.
That last one remained surprisingly valuable.
One Friday, I left at 4:30.
Not six.
Four-thirty.
No emergency.
No appointment.
I just—
finished early.
Abigail saw me pick up my bag.
"Going?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
I paused.
"Home."
She looked suspicious.
I stared.
"Why?"
"Nothing."
"Say it."
"Early."
"I know."
She smiled.
"Good."
I pointed.
"Don't growth me."
She laughed.
"I wasn't going to."
Liar.
At home, Mama was surprised.
Papa wasn't home yet.
Sofia was packing beauty orders at the table.
I sat beside her.
She handed me tape.
"Help."
I stared.
"I own a printing and packaging business."
"Exactly."
"That makes my labor expensive."
"You're free."
Rude.
I helped.
For twenty minutes.
No invoice.
No consultation fee.
No operational redesign.
Just tape.
Later that evening, Jane messaged.
free tomorrow?
I checked nothing.
yes
Then she replied—
coffee?
game
Simple.
I put the phone down.
Twenty-seven.
Business bigger.
Money better.
More people.
More responsibility.
But—
not busier.
Not in the way that mattered.
Original Lia had believed success meant increasing how much she could carry.
Current Lia was slowly learning something else.
Sometimes success was building enough capacity—
that you didn't have to carry all of it yourself.