One Indian Girl(57)

‘We had actually booked a hotel in Manila on our way back. Our Hong Kong flight is tomorrow,’ Neel said.

Marcos waved a no with his hands.

‘Forget Manila. Crowded and polluted. You stay at my resort.’

‘But. . .’ Neel said before Marcos interrupted him.

‘I insist. My seaplane will take you there.’

‘Sure,’ Neel said. Apart from being gracious to our client, we wanted to see the quality of the resorts anyway. Marcos told his secretary to arrange two rooms at the El Casa Pengalusian Island.

‘Now let us talk business,’ Marcos said after he delegated our travel arrangements.

‘My colleague Radhika here has prepared some numbers,’ Neel said.

I passed out copies of the financial model.

‘I have tried to value each resort,’ I said. Over the next ten minutes I walked him through my assumptions and projections. After I finished, Marcos took a deep breath.

‘What now?’ Marcos said.

I looked at Neel. It was time for him to speak.

‘We need a new buyer. However, nobody will buy a company with a fifty-million-dollar loan on it. We have to settle the banks at a discount first.’

‘They will settle,’ Marcos said.

‘But we want them to settle at a low price. We have to paint a terrible scenario for the banks. Say the business is worth almost nothing. You will have to play along,’ I said.

‘Really?’ Marcos said.

‘Yes. So they will sell the loans to us cheap. We will then find a new buyer. From our profit, we can give you 20 per cent,’ I said.

Marcos’s eyes widened. He looked at Neel.

‘She’s good,’ Marcos said.

‘Only my best people for you. Any other issues, Marcos?’ Neel said. Marcos turned to me again.

‘Will the new buyer fire people?’ Marcos said.

‘Depends on the new owner,’ I said.

‘I don’t want that. No firing people. They are my people,’ Marcos said.

I looked at Neel. We had a deadlock. The value of the company would drop if the new buyer had a no-layoffs clause.

‘No firing anyone for five years. Okay?’ Neel said.

Marcos looked at me. I pursed my lips.

‘Fine. We can build that in. But if we do, do we have a deal?’ I said.

‘This girl is a quick one,’ Marcos said to Neel and grinned.

‘In my group, we like to close deals,’ Neel said.

Marcos extended his hand.

‘Let’s do it,’ Marcos said.

We shook hands. We had an in-principle agreement.

‘I’ll send in the term sheet tomorrow,’ I said.

‘Is she always so obsessed with work?’ Marcos said. ‘No urgency. Send it in a few days. This is the Philippines. There’s more to life than work here.’

There’s nothing else but work in my life, I thought. I smiled at Marcos.

‘Try my beer. Number one in the Philippines,’ Marcos said as he opened the fridge behind his desk.



‘Okay, this is a little scary,’ I said as I tied the flimsy seatbelt around me. Neel and I sat next to each other in the compact four-seater El Casa seaplane. The seats were tiny, our heads inches from the roof. The pilot gave us a thumbs-up sign, indicating take-off.

‘What plane is this?’ Neel asked the pilot.

‘Amphibious Cessna 208 Caravan, sir,’ the pilot said. The plane could take off and land on water as well as land. We took off from the local airport at Palawan. The turboprop noise made it difficult to talk. Neel saw my petrified face.

‘You okay?’ he screamed so I could hear him.

I nodded and blinked my eyelids. He grinned.

‘Breathe,’ he said.

I exhaled and inhaled a few times. The plane took off. I looked outside the window. The crystal-blue sea, white beaches and the green cover of trees below me made me forget our precarious position.

‘Wow,’ I blurted out as I saw some of the most breathtaking scenery I had ever seen in my life.

‘It really is spectacular,’ Neel said.

Fifteen minutes later, the plane hovered over the Pengalusian Island. Less than half a kilometre long and only two hundred metres wide, the rice-grain-shaped island seemed tiny from above. The beach ran all around the perimeter of the island. On the southern tip, a few huts became visible.

‘That’s the resort,’ the pilot said. ‘The rest of the island is just left untouched. All natural.’

I closed my eyes as the plane landed on its water skis. When I opened them, Neel and the pilot were looking at me. Both of them had a grin on their faces.

‘I am sorry. It’s beautiful, but scary,’ I said.

We stepped out of the plane into the sand. Two porters took our bags. The resort manager greeted us.

‘You must be Mr Marcos Sereno’s special guests,’ he said. ‘Welcome to El Casa Pengalusian. I am Carlos, the resort manager.’

He showed us our respective rooms. Each room was a little cottage on stilts, built above a clear blue water lagoon.

‘If you sit on the balcony,’ Carlos said, ‘you can see fish in the water below you.’

I put my belongings in the luxurious room, which had wooden floors and a thatched roof. I felt tired. I went up to the reception area where I found Neel in conversation with Carlos.