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 to 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.