"I thought it was... only a walking distance?" Emie asked, gasping as she leaned over a fence to catch her breath. "Ouch! My legs already hurt."
Well, it was only a walking a distance for him and almost everyone he knew. People in Baguio loved to take a leisure walk unless they need to go somewhere urgent. It sort of slipped out of his mind that Emie wasn't from here because he was busy thinking of getting away from The Mansion.
"Would you like to rest first?" Yves asked, unaffected by the long saunter they had taken.
"No, it's okay..." Emie straightened her back and pointed at her face. "Do I still look okay? Do I need to retouch my makeup before we go inside?"
"You're fine," Yves said. "This isn't Manila. A thirty walk here won't damage your makeup. You'll hardly sweat because of the cooler climate."
Despite what he said, Emie still grabbed a hand-held mirror from the bag he was carrying for her, then checked her reflection in the mirror. After she deemed she still looked presentable, Emie started filming herself again.
Yves applauded her ability to do vlogging. To narrate in a cherry voice while holding a video camera was something he could never do, especially in the middle of a crowded place. Though he appeared like a personal assistant now more than a close protection agent.
After they paid the entrance, which only cost ten pesos or an equivalent to twenty cents in US currency, they walked past the wooden arc that showed the name of the place—the Mines View Park.
Just like the first park they visited, there were plenty of pine trees around. They passed by souvenir shops, plant shops, and food stalls as they descended down the stone-constructed stairway.
It didn't take them long to reach the viewing deck. But not before stopping by at a shop to rent out an authentic regalia of Cordillera—a handwoven textile cloth made of red and black dyed yarns.
"So, how does it look? Does it fit me well?" Emie asked, twirling around to showcase the native attire she rented to wear, while holding the headdress decorated with red feathers.
Yves almost answered before he realized he was holding the video cam to his chest, and Emie was probably talking to her audience. Since Emie had to wear the attire, he had to hold on to her video cam, which made him an instant cameraman.
Seriously, she should have gotten a personal assistant. This was not what he signed up for. But then, it was better than running away from bullets, so he just stood there and filmed Emie to the best that he could.
'Just remember the money,' Yves thought, while keeping a smile on his face.
The scenery from the viewing deck was no different from what can be seen at El Cielo Lodges. The only difference was it's more affordable and accessible to the public. Nevertheless, they had a spectacular view of the foggy mountain ranges.
"I think I'm done for the day." Emie sighed. She closed her video cam and leaned against the concrete rails of the ridge. "I don't think I can walk anymore."
Her announcement relieved Yves, but he kept his sigh subtle to not come across as rude. "Well, we can rest for a while here. Do you want something to eat or drink?"
"Now that you mentioned it, I'm kind of hungry now," Emie said, eyeing a couple who was a buttered corn. "Can you buy me something to like that too?"
Yves would have agreed, but the food stall was far from the viewing deck. It meant leaving his client out of his sight. He couldn't do that. Not when he'd been catching irregular movements from someone out of the corner of his eyes since they left The Mansion.
"Why don't we head out and buy something on our way back?" Yves suggested instead.
Emie gave him a dissuaded look. "I told you, I can't walk anymore. I think I can manage to be alone for a minute. It looks safe here, anyway. Just be quick, okay?"
Yves wanted to tell her that his job was to keep her safe, not to provide her with food. Should he scare her for a bit by saying they had a stalker? But since he already knew the stalker's identity, he could entertain her for a bit. "Alright. Here."
Emie stared at the small bottle he handed to her. "What's this?"
"It's a pepper spray. I'm surprised even after all the things you've gone through, you didn't consider buying one. Though, I doubt you'd have a need to use it, considering people here are super-friendly. But just hold on to it for security measure."
"Okay. Thanks. You can go now."
Yves held out his hand. "The money?"
Surely, she wasn't expecting he would shoulder her miscellaneous expenses, was she? Emie blinked, then opened her bag to get a five hundred peso bill, which was already a lot. "Here. You can get something for yourself, too."
"Thanks. Anything else aside from buttered corn?"
Emie shrugged. "It's up to you."
"Okay. Any allergies?"
"You are so thorough, aren't you?"
"Just making sure," Yves said. He scanned the viewing deck, which had an elevated shed with angular-roof at the center, then jogged up the stairs.
Instead of going to the food stall they passed by earlier, Yves went after the man, who had been following them around. He spotted him near the white horse with pink straps, faking interest in taking a picture with it.
Yves tapped the man's shoulder, smiled when he faced him, and waited for recognition to sink in his toffee-colored eyes before slamming him against the nearby pine tree.
———
Scheduling a personal meeting with the President was no easy feat even for a known Congressman like him. Thankfully, they were both from the same political party, so he had a bit of an advantage.
Richard sat on the white couch in The Mansion conference hall and waited for the President. The plan was to just have a casual talk over golf and see where it went.
While waiting, Richard roamed his gaze around the spacious room. Portraits of the previous presidents lined the walls. Since the Americans initially built The Mansion in 1908 to serve as a summer house of the Governors-General, the architecture of the building had a modernized Latin-American touch.
If he decided to pursue a higher post in the government and won in a presidential race, he didn't mind living here. A tiny smile quirked Richard's lips at the thought, but was interrupted by the sudden ring of his phone.
"Hello, Eadric," he answered.
"Congressman," came Eadric's troubled voice. "We have a problem."
Richard sighed in exasperation. "I told you to be subtle."
"That's not it, Congressman. It's... it's Glenn."