Love in All the Right Places (Chick Lit bundle) (25 page)

Chrissie Peria

For Milena,

To tide you over until the time when we can explore Macau together

#SomeThingsIdRatherNotRemember

OF ALL THE THINGS I HAD TO SEE when I was unpacking, it had to be that glove. That single stupid unmatched glove—bought last minute from a small specialty shop for the sudden trip—stared at me mockingly. It felt like a slap in the face, that glove. Like a gauntlet thrown to the ground, the glove burned my eyes, challenging me to a duel. It was a reminder of my foolishness in falling for what seemed like everything I had been waiting for in my life.

And how it all fell through my fingers.

@manila

Chapter 1

#DidYouSayAllExpensePaid

EVERYTHING STARTS SOMEWHERE. IN MY CASE, it was with an email from the Macau Tourism Board.

To: Five Cuevas

From: Gail Chua

Subj: Macau Familiarization Trip

Ms. Ma. Mercedes Cuevas

www.fivearoundtheworld.com

Dear Ms. Cuevas,

The Macau Tourism Board is pleased to invite you to a Familiarization Trip to Macau. To be held on January 18 to 21, the trip aims to introduce a few selected bloggers to Macau's diverse tourist attractions, cuisine, culture and entertainment. In exchange, we would like you to consider featuring these experiences on your blog.

The tourism board will shoulder the roundtrip airfare (Manila - Macau - Manila), hotel accommodations, meals, tours, entrance fees, and local transportation, following the trip's itinerary.

We would appreciate receiving your response by Thursday, December 20. Should you choose to join us on this familiarization trip, please attach a scanned copy of your valid passport.

For questions and clarifications, please don't hesitate to contact us at this email address.

Thank you very much. We look forward to hearing favorably from you.

Yours,

Abigail Chua

Online Liaisons Officer

Macau Tourism Board - Philippines

THAT EMAIL HAD TO BE THE BEST EVER EMAIL I've received in my life. It was like those 'You've won the lottery!', 'A Nigerian Prince wants to Marry You!' and 'Lose weight fast!' emails you get on a daily basis. Only, this one was absofreakingtasticalutely real. And it was happening to me. Was I lucky or what?

I've heard about these press junkets. In fact, I fantasized about being invited to them. Imagine, going to a foreign country, being toured around to experience the best that the country has to offer for free? In exchange for what? Writing about travel, which I absolutely love doing. It's totally a win-win situation in my book.

In the two years that I've been blogging about my travels, that was the first time I received an offer to visit from overseas. I have gotten invitations from local resorts and provincial tourism boards, but it was never anything as grand as that. So, what's a girl to do? I go on Twitter, of course.

Five Cuevas @5travels

Three guesses to where I'm going next. Starts with an M. Ends with a U. Has a lechon named after it. #travel

Of course, I should've known better than to tweet. Because first, I hadn't even confirmed with the tourism board yet. Second, I hadn't talked to my boss about taking a vacation. And third, it brought my Skype account to life with a video call request from my sister, Libby.

"Hey, Five. What's up with your latest tweet? You didn't tell me you were planning to go to Macau." Trust my elder sister Libby to be online at that godforsaken hour. Libby was just a year older than me. She's the third of four daughters. I was the fourth.

"Hey, Libs! Graveyard?" I could tell that she was at work. She was the sort who lives in sweats and a messy ponytail, not the crisp uniform and sleek chignon she was required to wear while manning the switchboard at the fancy schmancy Taiwanese hotel she worked in.

"Yeah, graveyard for the rest of the month. When are you flying to Macau? I thought you were saving up for Europe?" Her tone was accusatory. But it's understandable since my reason for not visiting her in Taiwan was because I was holding off on visiting nearby Asian countries so I could save up for Europe instead, then she hears that I'm making plans to visit Macau.

"I still am. Get this, Libs. The Macau trip? All-expense paid, to be covered by the Macau Tourism Board, in exchange for blogging about it. Aren't you proud of your fantastic little sister?" I preen in front of the webcam, dropping all pretense and just being myself. "I'm going in mid-January."

"You already!" she squealed, dropping her polished hotelier demeanor to tease me. "Mid-Jan, huh? You'll need winter clothes then. It's awfully cold that time of the year, especially in the evenings. And you'll want to explore during the evenings. One side is all sparkly lights and casinos, while the other's all old buildings and quaint little herbalist shops. Such a marked contrast, that country. Bring your tripod along, you'll enjoy taking photos at night. You'll need to go shopping for food
pasalubong
, too. I'm sure mom will love the
bacalhau
, Portuguese sardines and chorizos.  I demand
bakkwa
and Phoenix egg rolls. And egg tarts! They're the best. I love the one on—Oh shoot, break time's over. I need to get back to my station. Send my love to Mom and the rest, okay? Love you."

If there's anyone who knows Macau, it's Libby. Her first overseas posting was in Macau. She was so excited about finally getting to leave home that she explored every nook and cranny of that region. She was always bugging me to visit her but I hadn't been bitten by the travel bug then yet. I grinned to myself before logging off Skype. Knowing Libby, she'll be sending me a gajillion homemade travel guides. I'll probably be the most knowledgeable tourist to visit Macau.

Chapter 2

#HowDoYouWakeUpOnTheWrongSideOfTheBedIfYouHaven'tSleptYet

FRESH AS A DAISY. COMPOSED AND SELF-ASSURED. Smart—make that brilliant—career woman. There are many ways to describe the people who go through the sparkling glass doors of The Milena Grand. None of which, however, were appropriate for me.

Of course, none of it was my fault. I wanted to make a smashing first impression on our hosts. Five Cuevas, confident world-traveler. Unfortunately, things rarely go as expected. My work shift, which was supposed to end at seven am, went on extreme overtime as a DDOS attack on one of our client's web servers had me fretting for solutions. So that nap I was planning to take before leaving the house for the Macau briefing? Plan aborted!

Instead, I found myself rushing to the bathroom for a quick shower then dashing out of the house as soon as I can. I had an outfit all picked out—a tailored dress shirt, black skinny jeans and my favorite mid-length boots—but after realizing that my shirt needed to be ironed and the boots had to be cleaned, I ended up with a casual t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. Not exactly the image I wanted to project—I looked 18 in this outfit, a good seven years off the mark—but better that than late to the meeting, right?

Of course, my tale of woe didn't end there. Lacking sleep and outfitted in a less than spectacular fashion, the taxis all decide to avoid me. Did they get a Let's-Not-Give-Five-A-Ride memo or something? And when I finally did get a cab (a decrepit early 90s model that had a native
anahaw
fan wired to a motor for air conditioning), it broke down in the middle of traffic three blocks away from the hotel.
Manong
was apologetic enough, but it was the sort of distance that was too close for a new cab, yet too far for a comfortable walk. I end up walking during the lunch rush under the baking sun. So yeah, Five's first step inside the glitzy new hotel? Pathetic.

"The Camellia conference room is on the second floor," the concierge told me when I inquired. "Just turn right after you exit the elevator." I head on to the elevators after I thanked the concierge. For once, the universe seemed to be in my favor as I saw an available one.

"Hold, please!" I shouted when I saw it begin to close. I sighed with relief when the guy inside, a tall, cute guy with smiling eyes, jumped to attention and hurriedly jabbed at the elevator's controls—only to have the elevator doors close even faster. Much to my shock.

'Did that guy just close the doors on me? Even after I asked politely? THE NERVE!' I thought to myself. The next elevator took ages to come, allowing me to fume even more. By the time I got to the Camellia room, most of my anger had petered out, replaced by worry.

"Five Cuevas? We finally meet!" A pleasant looking girl in corporate clothes smiled at me. She looked just as relieved as I was, as she gathered a folder on her small make-shift desk. "Come, they started already, but just barely. I'm sure you haven't missed much. Gail Chua." She offered her hand.

"I'm so sorry Gail. You wouldn't believe my morning," I explained, but she stopped me with an understanding flick of her wrist.

"Don't worry, don't worry. It's not a problem." She opened the doors for me then directed me to an empty seat. A slide show presentation was primed on the front of the room, flashing the words Macau Familiarization Tour. I smiled apologetically at the presenter and she smiled back, nodding to acknowledge me without breaking her pace. I gratefully sunk into my seat, glad that she didn't stop to announce my late arrival. My smile, however, quickly dissolved when I looked around the room and spotted a familiar face. A face that was studiously avoiding meeting my gaze. One, that just moments ago, closed the elevator doors on me.

After a short overview of the day's briefing, Miss Dorie, our host, announced that we should begin with introductions. Aside from Miss Dorie and Gail, there were three other people in the room. Simon, a call center agent who specialized in all things geek; Meghan, a sexy PR exec slash occasional mow-del who definitely knows she's hot; and Mr. I'll-pretend-to-hold-the-elevator-door-open-but-close-it-on-you.

"I'm Jesse," he introduced himself in a matter-of-fact manner, as if his name was the most important thing in the world. "I enjoy traveling and taking photos. When I'm not doing either, I'm probably being an art director." He named an elite award-winning ad agency as his workplace. That explained the smugness. "It's not appropriate to call it a day job anymore since I'm there at probably every waking hour." After finishing his spiel, he flashed his matinee idol smile toward where Sexy Meghan and Miss Dorie were sitting.

I rolled my eyes; here's another guy who thinks he's all that. Okay, granted he was cute, with the messy mop of hair that hits just the edge of his collar, coupled with clear skin a teenage girl would kill for. But come on, I mean, flashing your dimples at susceptible women? "Other than that, I like extreme sports and trying out new things."

How clichéd. Art director slash photographer slash extreme sports enthusiast. He probably goes for early morning jogs with his Labrador retriever, before stopping for fair trade organic herbal tea. He probably used a Hasselblad and wouldn't touch a mass-produced Canon camera with a ten-foot pole. I could've gone on and on with what I thought of Mr. I'll pretend-to-hold—make that Mr. Arrogant Elevator Guy (Yes, he deserves the Title Case.)—but Miss Dorie called on me next.

"I'm Five Cuevas; I write and take photos on my blog, www.fivearoundtheworld.com," I started, saying things evenly and without fanfare, a marked contrast to Mr. Arrogant Elevator Guy. "I've been travel blogging for two years now. During the nights though, I work from home as a virtual assistant. I haven't been to Macau, so I'm definitely looking forward to seeing the casinos and the UNESCO Heritage sites."

"I'm glad someone did their research. And yes, Five, you'll be seeing a lot of both," Miss Dorie beamed at me, rising from her seat to go to the center of the room again. I restrained myself from smirking. Score 1 for Five, 0 for Mr. Elevator Guy.

"Welcome to the first Macau Bloggers' Familiarization Tour," she addressed us all. "First, because this is the first time we'll be holding this tour for bloggers, so you know how special you guys are. We usually hold this for traditional media people, but we decided to extend our invitation to bloggers because we recognize how people now run to the web for information when planning trips," she explained.

"Macau is a Special Administrative Region of the People's Republic of China. Like Hong Kong, it follows the One Country, Two Systems policy, that's why Macau continues to enjoy the benefits it possessed even before the handover. Macau's earliest settlers were fishermen from Fujian and farmers from Guangdong, who turned it into a trading gate because of its location at the mouth of the Pearl River, downstream from Guangzhou. In the early 1550s, the Portuguese arrived, signaling the start of Macau's status as a Portuguese colony. They adopted the name Macau, after the local name
A Ma Gao
, which means place of A Ma, in honor of the Goddess of Seafarers." After her introductory spiel, Miss Dorie continued on, pulling up more slides about Macau.

Her talk was fascinating. Miss Dorie was a wealth of information, sharing everything she thought we needed to know about the place we would soon visit. When she finished talking, she gestured to Gail who approached our table with handouts. "Now let's go through your itineraries."

I went through the pages of the itinerary as soon as Gail handed them out. Senado Square. The Ruins of St. Paul. The Red Market. The Macau Science Museum. The City of Dreams and the Venetian. Macau Tower. The list went on and on, listing all the sites we were to visit.

"You'll be there for four days and three nights. Departure for Macau is on Friday and arrival back in Manila is on Monday. I hope that's not a problem for those of you who have day jobs." Miss Dorie went through the daily itineraries, starting from our arrival on Friday noontime, to our departure on Monday at roughly the same time.

"You may notice that your Sunday afternoon schedule is empty. Well, while we planned a packed guided tour, we also want you to experience Macau on your own, much like how other tourists would. So, we freed up your Sunday afternoon and evening for exploration. We'll be providing a small stipend for food and transportation when you go off on your own, but for the rest of the trip, we'll be shouldering the tab. Any questions about the schedule?"

Hands shot up in the air as both Simon and Meghan had questions about the places we were to visit. I tried to listen, but the itinerary distracted me. I flipped through the pages again, excited for the trip already. My animated imaginings were broken when I heard a smooth, confident voice ask the next question.

"Will we be provided with internet access while we're in Macau?" Mr. Arrogant Elevator Guy asked in this self-assured, Oh-I'm-so-important tone. "I utilize both Twitter and Instagram to connect with my readers, maximizing their experience, so I would greatly appreciate it if I can go online while we're there." I rolled my eyes. Can you believe this guy? It's like he's the only one among us who tweets and Instagrams.

"Good question," Miss Dorie replied. She nodded to Gail who took over. "Don't worry about internet access. We'll be bringing along a portable wifi router when we're touring and your rooms will have complimentary internet access. Of course, if you prefer to purchase a local SIM card so you can call as well as surf, we can help you out there. But you'll have to purchase them using your own money."

"If there aren't any more questions, you guys can have lunch now while I go through the rest of our agenda." Miss Dorie signaled one of the hotel staff, who in turn called the servers to bring lunch in. "Now, I want to give you a backgrounder on what to expect so you'll know what to bring for the trip. Let's start with the Macanese Pataca, Macau's official currency...."

"THAT JESSE GUY'S PRETTY HOT," Meghan said as she reapplied her lipstick during our short bathroom break. We still had a few topics to cover but Miss Dorie offered to let us step out for a few minutes.

My eyes rolled furtively, a tendency it has acquired to do whenever Mr. Arrogant Elevator Guy's name is mentioned. "I guess, if you like overgrown school boys," I replied as I washed my hands.

"Oh, you know each other?" I watched Meghan as she did that pressing lip thingie on a paper towel. She proceeded to check her teeth for lipstick stains before puckering her lips, then winking at the mirror. At herself. Who are these people?

"No, never met him before in my life." I pulled a paper towel from the dispenser—just one piece, must conserve resources—then gingerly started wiping my hands. "He just has that sort of aura, you know?"

"Well, I don't care about auras and all that. He could be mentally sixteen, for all I care. I'd tap that." She turned to me, finally done with her make-up routine. "He seems aloof right now, but once I work my magic on him," she rubbed her hand against a curvy hip, "he'll be putty in my hands."

Oh, great. My roommate was a she-devil out to hook her man. Let's just hope her plans don't include locking me out of our room if she gets lucky. And she will. Meghan, in her painted on skinny jeans, wrap-around blouse whose neckline was as deep as the Marianas Trench, and sexy red stilettos, oozed sexuality. "I still need to go for a smoke. You coming?"

"Go ahead, I don't smoke," I told Meghan, but she was already halfway out the door. I shrugged. She seemed like a nice enough person to hang out with, since it was apparent that we'd be saddled with each other. But given a choice, under normal circumstances, we wouldn't be caught dead in each other's company. Blog events create the strangest bedfellows.

I gave my phone a quick check for email and urgent messages as I was making my way back to the conference room. But other than a few questions about getting visas on the comments section of my blog, there was nothing interesting. At least, nothing as interesting as the sight that greeted me as I looked up from my phone.

Meghan, apparently, didn't waste time. She was standing just a few meters away from me, chuckling at something a guy was saying. God, even her laugh was sexy. I squinted to look at whom she was with, and judging by the soft, wavy hair hitting the top of his collar, it was Mr. Arrogant Elevator Guy himself. Ugh.

I treaded extra carefully, not wanting to be drawn into their chitchat. Simon was there, too, so it was apparently an informal getting to know you chat among us trip participants.

"Oh, I'm only here as a favor to Miss Dorie. She and my mom went to school together, so when my mom mentioned her son keeps a travel blog, Miss Dorie added me to the shortlist," I heard Jesse explain in that silky voice of his. "I've never done this before, go on a junket. I prefer keeping my blog ad and sponsor-free. I've seen some full-time bloggers sell out to advertisers. Nasty business when money comes into the blogging equation. Where's the integrity in that? What, for a few dollars, you'll let other people put words in your mouth? I'll never sell out."

That was the last straw. I was fuming by the time Simon noticed me. "Hey, Five, what do you think—" he started, but I cut him short and addressed Jesse instead. "Look here, Mister Know-It-All. Who are you to pass judgement on someone's integrity? Not everyone can afford the high-flying lifestyle you lead. Some of us need to work and make good use of the resources on hand. Just because we accept advertising and sponsorships doesn't mean we've given up on integrity and truthfulness." I turned away without waiting to hear his explanation.