by Maida Malby
Boracay Vows
CARPE DIEM CHRONICLES 1
MAIDA MALBY
COPYRIGHT
Copyright 2017 by Maida Malby
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without permission in writing from the author except for a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This ebook is licensed for your personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you wish to share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9995432-0-7
Edited by Penlight Editing
Cover design by Render Compose
Distributed by Smashwords
DEDICATION
To my loves, my heart, my home: this is for you. Beloved Husband Brian and our son Stevie, Expert of Things, I love you.
To foreign-born spouses of Americans who love to read romance novels: This is for us.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One - Barkada
Chapter Two - Boracay
Chapter Three - Sarap
Chapter Four - Halik
Chapter Five - Yehey
Chapter Six - Jeepney
Chapter Seven - Bahala na
Chapter Eight - Duyan
Chapter Nine - Tatay
Chapter Ten - Ulan
Chapter Eleven - Pangako
Chapter Twelve - Pagkain
Chapter Thirteen - Ligaw
Chapter Fourteen - Regalo
Chapter Fifteen - Kapatid
Chapter Sixteen - Kaibigan
Chapter Seventeen - Pares
Chapter Eighteen - Kaarawan
Chapter Nineteen - Kasaysayan
Chapter Twenty - Salamat
Chapter Twenty-One - Tulog
Chapter Twenty-Two - Chismis
Chapter Twenty-Three - Tatu
Chapter Twenty-Four - Pag-ibig
Epilogue - Pamilya
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
Excerpt - New York Engagement
About the Author
SATURDAY
Chapter One
Barkada [bar-ka-duh], n. – a group of friends (Filipino street slang).
I’m going to kill my friends! Krista fumed as she threw garment after garment onto the bed. She had planned to put her clothes into the wardrobe, but stopped when she saw the contents of her suitcase.
Skimpy two-piece bathing suits with matching sarongs were in one mesh laundry bag. Tank tops, tiny shorts, bikini panties, and thin summer dresses were folded neatly inside another. I don’t own these sexy things.
Her gaze darted to the suitcase as another possibility occurred to her. “All the luggage on the carousel at the air strip looked alike. What if …”
She grabbed the tag to check if her bag was switched with someone else’s and groaned to see the name written there was her own. Her head dropped in resignation.
“Yep, they’re mine all right.” The two other women on the flight with her couldn’t have fit into these outfits. One was a matronly German lady, and the other was a tiny young Korean woman. Although these clothes were not Krista’s style at all, they were exactly her size.
This was what she got for giving her four know-it-all friends carte blanche regarding this trip. She didn’t have time to attend to things, so she told her friends to go ahead and do what they wanted. Which they obviously did.
Throwing her hands in the air in surrender, Krista flopped down on the bed. “Scheming witches,” she bit out without much heat. Her barkada really planned this to the last detail.
Maddie, Angela, Jenny, and Lisa took care of the flight, all the arrangements for her vacation, and even the packing of her suitcase. It was their gift for her thirtieth birthday—an all-inclusive eight-day, seven-night stay at a luxurious resort on the quieter side of Boracay, one of the most popular islands in the Philippine archipelago.
Her friends purposely ignored Krista’s request not to send her somewhere expensive. Their choice was so posh, the place owned an air-taxi service to ferry its elite clientele from the city of Makati directly to and from the resort’s air strip.
The original plan was to go home to her parents’ province for the three-day All Saints’ Day break, but the girls strong-armed her into making it a full week vacation somewhere else. Going to Quezon was too boring, in her friends’ opinions. Since she had never been to Boracay, this was where they sent her. “Never mind that I don’t like the beach, not to mention I hate getting tanned,” she grumbled out loud.
With a shrug, she got up to put away the clothes, recognizing the futility of resisting something she couldn’t change. She could hardly wear the outfit she had on now—a loose, white, short-sleeved polo shirt and black slacks—every single day, especially not in this heat. “At least I won’t be naked, although I might as well be with these skimpy outfits.”
Krista halted in front of the mirror and laughed derisively at her reflection.
“Yikes! Who goes to the beach wearing office clothes? Only you, Krista Lopez. Only you.” Her usual shapeless clothes, ponytailed hair, and wire-rimmed eyeglasses rendered the makeover her friends insisted she get nearly useless. Obviously, she did not belong in Boracay in her normal state. Krista removed her glasses with a self-pitying sigh.
Peering at her image more closely, she traced her eyebrows and winced in remembered pain at the plucking she had endured the previous day. Escorted by Jenny and Lisa, she’d had her bikini area waxed for the first time in her life, and her bush neatly trimmed.
Her friends pointed out that, had Angela and Maddie been there instead, they’d have insisted on a full Brazilian wax. Good heavens! The crazy duo smirked the whole time. They probably knew how skimpy all her new swimwear was.
Krista raised her right leg onto the stool in front of the mirror, rolled up her pants, and ran her hands lightly down the side. The silky-smooth feel of her skin made her smile. “Hmm, perhaps this pampering isn’t so bad after all.”
She straightened and removed her hair from its ponytail, fluffing it to fall softly around her face. It had been long and straight for so many years, she had forgotten it was naturally curly.
Vanity, thy name is Krista. Her lips twisted at the irony of that claim. Always being one to downplay her looks to discourage male interest, it became second nature to appear plain rather than enhance her natural beauty.
Krista wasn’t the prettiest in the group, but she had the fairest and clearest skin of the five of them. It wasn’t only a matter of genetics—she had a strict skin care regimen that included staying indoors as much as possible. Her uniform of long-sleeved blouses and suits helped to protect her skin from sun exposure.
Going to the beach was an out-of-the-ordinary event for her. Her friends knew this, yet here she was. On the beachiest beach in the country, no less.
Three loud raps on the door resonated across the cottage, making her jump. Who could it be? She didn’t know anybody on the island.
Out of habit, she secured her hair back in its ponytail and donned her eyeglasses to meet the unexpected visitor.
“Sir!” Krista exclaimed. Mr. Blake Ryan, the hotshot chief executive officer of the manufacturing company she worked for, stood on the front patio of her beach cottage. Tall, tanned, and sexy, he embodied the type her friend Maddie usually dated and the kind her mother warned her to stay away from: overwhelmingly male and most importantly, a foreigner.
Almost everyone in the office—female or male, straight or gay, married or single—had a crush on him. Oh yes, including me, although I shouldn’t.
When her employment recruiter arranged an interview at the company, she almost didn’t go, knowing her new boss would be this young, good-looking American. But the position and its corresponding compensation package was too attractive to resist. She accepted the job, offered to her by Mr. Ryan himself, close to six months ago.
Since their first meeting, her awareness of him had threatened her self-imposed restrictions on romantic involvements. Her attraction went against everything her mother taught her. He made her nervous. He could break through her defenses, so she tried to keep her distance.
She had met other foreign men, but not one had made her heart beat faster when he drew near like this man. Right now, with only a couple of feet separating them, her heart was beating madly, and all her senses were heightened. It was impossible to hide. Krista did not always lack self-confidence, but here in Boracay she was in unfamiliar territory.
“Hello, Ms. Lopez. I saw you pass by my cottage.” With a smile on his face, he pointed in the general direction of the neighboring structure. “I wasn’t sure it was really you, so I came to check.”
Mr. Ryan wore a simple white t-shirt and khaki shorts, showing off his ripped chest and tanned, muscular legs. He’s the foreigner, but he looks so at ease, so at home. This place suited him. Me, not so much.
Krista knitted her brows as his statement sunk into her befuddled brain. Already feeling insecure, she seethed at his question about her identity. Her stare went from one of appreciation of his fit body to one of resentment over the perceived insult. It’s fine for me to think I don’t fit in here, but it’s not okay when somebody else says it.
“What do you mean you weren’t sure it was really me? Don’t you think I belong in a place like this?” Her voice had risen in volume to nearly a screech.
Who the hell does he think he is? He was the main reason she ended up here. Mr. High-and-Mighty CEO was going on leave and needed her input on some plans for the coming year by Thursday night the previous week, meaning she’d had to work overtime before her vacation.
His smile turned into a puzzled frown. “What? No!” He shook his head and held out his hands as if to ward off an attack.
Her hands were fisted by her sides, her weight shifted forward. A sane voice inside her head scolded her for acting crazy, but she ignored it. Yeah, he’s the boss, but we’re not in the office now. He could hardly fire me for getting mad at him for judging me, could he?
“I apologize, Ms. Lopez. I didn’t mean it the way you took it. I thought it was you from the way you’re dressed, but the shorter hair made me doubt it. Your fairness also made me think you don’t go to the beach often.” The tone of his voice was calm and reasonable; all his earlier warmth was gone.
Shame turned her face crimson. “Oh! Okay. I’m sorry for shouting at you, sir. You’re right. I’m not a beach person at all. This trip is a gift. Well, then, see you later. Bye, Mr. Ryan.” She blurted out her farewell in a rush to end the uncomfortable encounter, then stepped back and shut the door. Shitshitshitshitshit!
Krista thumped her head on the door. “Ugh, how embarrassing,” she whispered harshly. “How could I be so unbelievably rude to the boss? I am so going to get fired next Monday.”
She hurried to the window to watch Mr. Ryan walk back to his cottage, every now and then glancing back over his shoulder at Krista’s door with a perplexed look on his face.
Please let him not be angry. She had never shown him hostility, even when they argued about strategies at work. Maybe he was merely puzzled by her irrational behavior. Fingers crossed, she walked to the dining area hoping she was right.
As a thought crossed her mind she halted in her tracks, eyes narrowed with suspicion. A makeover, a fancy resort in Boracay, sexy clothes … and Mr. Ryan? Would my barkada really go that far? Possibly. She wouldn’t put it past them to manipulate events to suit their goals, especially with Maddie as the ringleader.
I did say, “Plan for whatever you think I’d need.” Shaking her head at her friends’ audacity, Krista proceeded to the table. Whether Blake Ryan was part of their plan, or whether it was merely a coincidence he was here at the same time didn’t matter. He was very much in it now.
Sitting down to eat her morning snack of the offerings from the fruit basket, she considered her next steps. Mr. Ryan was a complication she had not prepared for.
In all her adult life, no other man had made her the focus of his attention like her boss did. He made her feel self-conscious during meetings they attended together, especially these past couple of months. His eyes were always on her, even when she was not talking or when he should have been watching the presentation.
Krista had to admit, he wasn’t the only one looking. Whenever they were in the same room, she would mark the seat reserved for him and choose a chair across and at an angle, so she could watch him discreetly.
It was a pleasure to look at him for he possessed the looks and build of a Hollywood leading man. His face was sculpted rather than chiseled; his body fit, but not overly bulky like a weightlifter’s.
He always wore a suit, just like her, but his fit him perfectly. They were probably tailored for him in Hong Kong or Bangkok, while hers were off the rack from SM, the country’s largest department store chain. He and those bespoke suits were likely the reason the temperature in their office was in the mid-teens centigrade.
Krista smiled, remembering one of the few conversations she had with the big boss before today. They’d just finished their annual business review and she was putting away the presentation materials when he spoke to her. She hadn’t noticed him staying behind.
“Excellent analysis, Ms. Lopez.” He always pronounced it “Low-pez”, the same as the famous Jennifer, rather than the Filipino way of “Law-pes”.
“Thank you, sir. It was a team effort.” She kept her head down to hide her flush of pleasure from his compliment.
Beneath her lashes, she tracked his legs. He took several steps forward until he was in front of the table where she was shuffling papers around. Krista thought it was starting to get a little crowded in that space, even though she felt all aflutter by his nearness.
“How do you like working with us so far?”
Courtesy demanded she look at him while he talked to her. A smile played on his mouth—she focused on that. “I’m enjoying it here. It’s been stimulating.” His lips twitched in amusement, making her realize that her last word could be misinterpreted as flirty. Her eyes flew to his. “Intellectually, I mean.”
“Of course. I thought so myself, especially this last quarter.” She must have frowned in confusion, because he changed the subject. “You don’t find it overly cold?”
If anything, it was too warm. He perched on the table, his slacks stretched tightly over his powerfully built thighs. Her mouth went dry, but she managed to croak out, “The Siberia in Bonifacio Global City?” At his laugh, she relaxed and continued. “No. I’m perfectly comfortable. I’m well—” The rest of her statement was cut off by one of the VPs, who had entered the conference room to speak to Mr. Ryan. She had nodded to him and backed out of the room, relief coursing through her.
Deep inside the memory, Krista stared morosely at the mango peel on her plate. Embarrassingly, she had been about t
o say something that would draw his attention to her Asian-size-Large body. Insulated. Padded. She was going to point to her ill-fitting suit, which covered her from neck to ankle. Another point of frustration her barkada shared about her. They liked to call her voluptuous and wanted her to wear clothes that showed off her shape instead of hiding it.
The thought of her friends reminded her of the suspicion about their scheme. Krista couldn’t blame them for running out of patience with her. She had made a promise to their friend Sheila, who had died in her hometown of Leyte during the Super Typhoon Yolanda.
Krista felt tightness in her chest as grief coursed through her. Sheila, too, had gone on a one-week vacation from work during the All Saints’ Day break of 2013. She was in Leyte on the 8th of November, unaware that the storm would wipe out almost everything in its path—including Sheila herself.
The girls held a memorial for her when it was confirmed she had died a heroine who saved her nephew from drowning. They all swore they would live their lives to the fullest each day, pledging to never put off plans and dreams for tomorrow. And they all promised to carry out a monumental act on their thirtieth birthday, to do the things Sheila had delayed accomplishing, to celebrate reaching the milestone their friend had never attained. They called it the Turning-Thirty Vow.
Krista’s four friends had already fulfilled their sworn promises, either by design or by accident. Lisa’s first child was born on her birthday; Jenny married her longtime boyfriend on hers; in September, Angela left her dead-end job, started her own company, and went skydiving; and last week, Maddie received a huge promotion and a flashy new car as thirtieth birthday gifts.
Her own milestone day would be in the middle of this week, on November 2nd, but she couldn’t hope to match most of her friends’ Turning-Thirty feats. They jokingly called her an NBSB—No Boyfriend Since Birth—so no wedding and no baby for her. She started her new job in May, and so far, she liked it. She would not be quitting anytime soon. Nor would she be getting a promotion, since her probationary period just ended last Friday.