Exclusive Cover Reveal + Excerpt: Melissa de la Cruz Romance The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos

Every romantic relationship faces challenges. From clashing political views or differing religious ideologies to cat people versus dog lovers, falling in love with someone often means learning to mix two seemingly disparate pieces into a cohesive whole. Such is the case in Melissa de la Cruz’s upcoming novel, The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos, which brings two very different people and cultures together.  

A rare adult romance from de la Cruz, who is best known for her young adult and middle grade fiction—if you haven’t tried her YA fantasy yet, it’s time to change that–0it’s described as the author’s most personal novel yet. The story follows Evan, an American travel editor who becomes smitten with his Filipina coworker, Dalisay Ramos, who is a new immigrant to America. But in order to date her, he’ll have to convince her—and her ultratraditional parents—that he’s worthy by doing all the five steps of Filipino courtship. (Which, according to the author herself, were inspired by stories of her own parents’ relationship.) 

Here’s how the publisher describes the story. 

Evan Saatchi can’t keep his eyes off his new co-worker, Dalisay Ramos.

Newly arrived from Manila to lead their travel app’s Asia division, nothing matters more to Dalisay than tradition and family. When Evan asks her out, she soundly rejects him for his cheek.

Evan learns from his Filipino friends that Dalisay expects more from potential suitors. If he wants a chance with her, he’s going to have to go through the Five Stages: the courtship ritual that lovers in the Philippines have performed for generations.

At first, Evan is skeptical—what, exactly, does “servitude” entail? And he has to sing?! But when Dalisay bets Evan that he doesn’t have the nerve to make it through the stages, the game is on.

As Evan attempts to prove to Dalisay that he can win her heart—and the bet—Dalisay is driven to distraction by Evan’s sexy labors, and soon their “courtship” turns into a sizzling secret.

But when modern love and family expectations collide, Dalisay and Evan must find a way to carry a rich history into a shared future.

The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos won’t hit shelves until July 9, 2024, but we’ve got an exclusive look at its adorable cover for you right now—and a sneak peek at the book’s first chapter! 

CHAPTER ONE

The airport is like Evan Saatchi’s second home. He’s used to the routine of waiting to check in, zipping through security checkpoints due to his Global Entry status, calculating how long it will take to walk from one end of the terminal to the other to plan the perfect route down to the second. Airports, no matter where you go, are mostly the same. The same kinds of food options, mostly sandwiches that are quick to make and easy to carry or eat while standing in lines; the same coffee chains, with the paper to-go cups and wooden stirrers and packets of sugar; the same bookstores, with the best sellers and magazines and gadgets for reading on long flights. He has the flight attendants’ entire safety speech memorized, knows all the sounds airplanes make, what actual bad turbulence feels like, the best angle to sleep at so as not to get a leg cramp, and the quickest route from the airport to the office that avoids Bay Area traffic. Efficiency at its finest.

This kind of efficiency has helped him chart his career, land his dream job writing and traveling for a living, and buy his own condo. It hasn’t let him down so far. And today is the day he’ll know if he’ll become a senior editor, his ultimate dream job.

The moment he pushes through the revolving doors to his office building, Evan spots a shock of red hair through the crowded lobby. Riggs is waiting for him, as usual, so they can go up to the office together—a perk of working at the same company as one of his best friends.

Carrying a tray of coffee in one hand and rolling his suitcase in the other, Evan asks, “Did Tallulah give you any grief?”

William Riggins—Riggs— looks up from his phone and grins. He always reminds Evan of a ginger cat, same coloring and temperament. “Tallulah? Total nightmare. Demanding as ever, running around in circles looking for you, bit me in the ass.”

“You probably deserved it.”

Riggs accepts a coffee from Evan’s tray and laughs. “Okay, I made that last one up. But she missed you.”

Tallulah, Evan’s elderly dachshund, prefers to lounge on the couch all day, lying on her own pillow like a proper hot dog, and falling asleep to eight-hour-long videos on YouTube called “TV for Dogs.” She’s everything Evan could have hoped for when he rescued her. Somehow sleeping in a four-star hotel without her curled at his feet makes him homesick.

“Thanks for looking after her,” says Evan. “I owe you.” His usual dog-sitter hadn’t been available.

For the past three days, he’s been in Paris, hardly his longest business trip for boots-on-the-ground research for Overnight, but it feels longer, especially after traveling for the past fourteen hours. While it’s the fastest-growing travel app according to Forbes, Overnight doesn’t have the budget to send editors like Evan, junior ones at that, abroad any longer than necessary. Sure, being so tall Evan has a hard time sitting comfortably in such small spaces for prolonged periods and resents dealing with people hogging all of the overhead bins, and before he finally got pre-check, he’s had his fair share of annoyances from the TSA, what with having a Persian last name, but he can’t complain about the perks of the job. Getting paid to travel makes it all worth it, even if getting to and from the airport is an odyssey all on its own.

Riggs checks the time on his phone. “You just barely made it. Bettie break down again?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, but I managed to push her into a parking spot, so it doesn’t count.” Bettie is Evan’s car—a Honda Civic that’s old enough to buy beer without getting carded by the bartender. Some might call her a piece of shit, others might call her a road hazard, even more might call her a piece-of-shit-road-hazard. Her red paint flakes off like rose petals in the wind, she’s constantly coughing like she’s got black lung, and she still smells like cigarettes from the previous owner no matter how many times Evan cleans the upholstery. Everyone told him not to buy her, but he didn’t listen. She’s his first car paid for with his first paycheck from Overnight, and that matters to him.

“Can’t believe you came in to work today,” Riggs says as they file into the elevator with the other nine-to-fivers. “If I were you, I’d be home right now.”

“And miss the all-hands-on-deck meeting? Not a chance. I have to know if I got the job or not,” Evan says as he takes a sip of his Americano and winces. Paris has ruined American coffee for him. Not to mention wine.

“Naomi wouldn’t tell you in private first?” Riggs asks.

“She said she’d make the announcement at the end of the week.” Evan gestures around them, as if proving a point. “It’s the end of the week.”

He’s been eyeing the senior editor position ever since Naomi, their boss, talked about starting an Urban Asia division to reach a larger audience. As soon as the listing was posted, he applied. Becoming a senior editor would be a big promotion, with all the perks of his current job, including an all-expenses, multicountry tour through Asia, a part of the world he’s always wanted to visit.

Currently, Evan and Riggs make up half of the European editorial team for Overnight, writing guides about hidden gems and the best deals for tourists in all the perennially popular and coolest up-and-coming cities across the continent. They spend hours compiling data and working with locals to determine the best experience for users. Some of the most beautiful cities in the world now feel like a part of him. He practically has a map of the best coffee shops in Europe imprinted in his soul. But he’s ready to see more.

Objectively, he knows the new job would be a reach. He’s never even been to Asia. But he’s always dreamed of going, and Naomi knows he’s a fast learner. Plus, visiting Tokyo on Overnight’s dime? He’d be crazy not to apply, at least to see what happens.

As the elevator rises, Evan slides his travel bag between his legs and unzips his bomber jacket with one hand while checking his reflection in the shiny walls of the elevator, making sure his dark curls aren’t sticking up every which way from the blustery San Francisco winds and staticky airplane pillows. He can’t come in looking like he rolled off the tarmac, even if that’s exactly what he did.

When the elevator doors ding open, the two of them make their way into the bullpen, finding the office mostly empty, with everyone already gathered in the conference room. “The meeting could be about layoffs,” Riggs says, scanning the empty desks.

“It’s not layoffs.” Evan taps Riggs on the chest with the back of his hand. “That doesn’t make sense. We’re expanding.” While Evan is generally the more cynical of the two, he’s not the type to catastrophize. “I think you’ve had too much caffeine this morning.”

Riggs inspects his coffee cup and twists his jaw in consideration. “Yeah. Probably.”

The conference room is already packed by the time Riggs and Evan slip through the door. The chatter is light and conversational, not the type you’d expect ahead of an announcement that a quarter of the company had been “impacted.” Evan and Riggs stand together at the back of the room, finishing their coffee, as some of the higher-ups chat with one another in front of a large projector screen with Overnight’s logo as the screen saver.

Riggs leans in and murmurs. “Fine. If it’s not layoffs, wanna bet we’ve been bought out?”

Evan quirks an eyebrow. “Doubt it.”

“Twenty bucks.” He flashes Evan a bill folded between his fingers.

“If it is layoffs—which it’s not—you’re gonna need those twenty bucks.”

“Being proven right will make it all worth it.”

With a breathy laugh, Evan nods. If he has one weakness, this is it. “Okay, I’ll take that bet.”

Evan’s still smiling even as he takes a cursory glance around the room when he notices an unfamiliar face. Overnight is a relatively small company, with fifty developers and even fewer editors, so seeing a stranger in a meeting of this scale piques his interest.

Like Evan, she seems to be in her mid-twenties. Her skin is light brown, and her long black hair falls below her shoulders. When she smiles with full red lips, her dark eyes brighten. She wears an oversized white button-up, with one corner tucked into tight black jeans, and ankle boots. The woman’s eyes flick toward him, catching him staring, and he tears his gaze away.

“All right, folks!” Overnight’s CEO, Naomi Ito, a smartly dressed Japanese American woman in her forties, claps her hands at the front of the conference room. “It’s the top of the hour. Let’s get this meeting started, shall we? Thank you all for coming, yadda yadda yadda. I know we’re updating the app today and we’re on a tight schedule, so without further ado . . .” She extends her hand to the new woman, who strides up to stand beside Naomi at the front of the room. Smiling, Naomi says, “Everyone, I’m very excited to introduce the new senior editor of the Urban Asia division, Dalisay Ramos.”

The office claps for her politely while Evan’s stomach plummets like he’s hit turbulence at cruising altitude and his whole body goes cold. This wasn’t how he expected to find out he didn’t get the job. Naomi gives Evan a slight nod when he catches her eye, a subtle acknowledgment, while Dalisay steps up to the front of the room as the applause dies down.

Dalisay doesn’t appear flustered talking in front of a room full of strangers. Confidently, she stands tall, smiling. “Good morning, everyone. I’m Dalisay. I moved here from the Philippines a few months ago, I’m a graduate of Ateneo de Manila University. Before this, I worked for Weisure, another travel app and . . . You’re bored already!” The room comes to life with polite laughter.

Makes sense. Overnight would want someone who is familiar with the region to be the senior editor. If Evan had known what he was up against, he wouldn’t have applied for the job. He never stood a chance. She seems like the perfect fit.

Watching her, Evan can’t look away. Heat rises from the back of his neck, and when he looks at Dalisay, his heart pumps like it’s trying to get his attention.

“Honestly,” she says, “I’m thrilled to join the Overnight team and can’t wait to work with all of you.”

Dalisay’s eyes catch Evan’s, and she smiles wider.

And Evan can’t help but smile in return. 

By the time Evan finishes hitting send on his final email of the morning, he’s fully back in work mode. Being jet-lagged hardly slows him down. He’s already planned his next trip, a few days in an igloo hotel in Finland, for an article about unconventional honeymoon destinations.

Movement across the floor snares his attention. Dalisay. The new editor.

She walks along the outer wall across the floor, holding a mug and heading to the office kitchen. She’s smiling to herself, eyes down, and he wonders what she’s thinking about.

A voice in the back of his head tells him he should go talk to her, introduce himself, but another, louder, and more annoying voice tells him to ask her out for coffee.

Evan’s heart has made a home in his throat and he swallows it back down. Ask her out? That’d be ridiculous. They’ve never spoken to each other. But he can’t ignore the way his heart nearly jackhammered out of his chest when they locked eyes. He’s never had a heart attack, but he bets it was close enough. Her smile might crack his rib cage in two. He’s never believed in love at first sight; that’s the stuff of poetry. (Plus, he’s always been more of a high-fantasy guy anyway.) He does, however, believe in attraction at first sight, the feeling as solid as a roundhouse kick to the sternum. With her dark hair, and that smart gleam in her eye, and damn, her smile . . . It’s a megawatt smile that makes everything brighter. What he wouldn’t give to see more of it.

Before he realizes it, he’s standing and following Dalisay to the kitchen. When he passes Riggs’s desk, Riggs gives him a curious glance, but Evan doesn’t turn back. He has to introduce himself at least.

When he enters the kitchen, he finds Dalisay alone. She’s organizing the sugar packets, putting everything into neat stacks. Kitchen upkeep is a job for one of the interns, but Dalisay hums happily to herself while she does it, waiting for the stainless-steel kettle to boil. When she taps all the packets into a straight row, Evan can’t help but notice a flash of silver on her hand, but on a second glance, it’s a dainty silver band with an infinity loop around her middle finger. Not an engagement ring.

But what if she has a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? Someone that gorgeous has to be in a relationship. He’s not a homewrecker. Suddenly, his nerve starts to dwindle. Come on, get a grip, he tells himself. You’re saying hello to a new colleague, not proposing. Be normal, idiot.

But Dalisay glances up when she hears him enter and smiles. When she does, he knows how the water in that kettle feels, full of potential energy waiting to bubble over. With a deep breath, he walks toward her, but navigates to the cupboards instead. Being this close to her, he can smell her perfume, and it makes the world spin. Orange blossoms, like a summer in Capri.

“Hi,” he says, giving her what he hopes is an easy smile.

Her eyes dart to him, and she tucks a ribbon of black hair behind her ear. “Hey.”

She goes back to sorting the sugar and sweeteners, and Evan tries not to stare. He grabs a mug from the cupboard and dollops some honey into the bottom. He silently offers her some, and she nods, giving another smile.

“Dalisay, right?” he asks.

“Yes, I think I saw you at the meeting.”

“I’m Evan.”

“Oh! Of course! Evan Saatchi. You must be the one I’ve heard so much about. European team, yes?”

“Yeah, I just got back from Paris. Seriously, only a couple hours ago.”

She juts out her lower lip, impressed. “You’re holding up well,” she says, stowing away the rest of the packets, neat and tidy, and color-coordinated.

“Barely.”

She laughs and tucks more of her hair behind her ear. “When I flew here from Manila, I could hardly function. My jet lag was awful! I didn’t feel like a person for ages.”

“Been there, for sure,” Evan says, grinning. “This is your first time here?”

“Yes! I traveled all over Asia for Weisure, but everything’s been so busy since we moved, I haven’t had a chance to really check out San Francisco yet. I’d love to visit the Asian Art Museum soon, see how it compares.”

“The museum is awesome. They have this mochi pounding demonstration—the way those guys hammer at the dough at lightning speed, it’s amazing. That, and mochi in general.”

“Well then, I have to go now!” She shifts a little so she’s facing him, her back flat against the edge of the counter. “You like it here? At Overnight?”

“Yeah. I do. Been a junior editor just over a year now. It’s a good gig. Is Naomi helping you get settled?”

“Yeah, it’s been great so far. But heading a brand-new department is huge. And adjusting to a new job is always nerve-racking.”

“For sure.” Evan sucks in a breath. He should tell her that he applied for the position. He’d hate it if she found out secondhand and risk her thinking he resented her. Better she hear it from him directly. “I actually applied for your job, so I know it’s a lot.”

Dalisay’s eyebrows rise. “Really?”

“Yeah, but I think they picked the better candidate to be honest. No hard feelings whatsoever.” Making her smile is like serotonin injected directly into his brain. It’s stupid-good.

“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“No problem. I’m sure you’ll figure everything out, but if you ever need anything, I’m happy to help.”

“I may take you up on that.”

Dalisay’s eyes sparkle. When she smiles with her lips closed like that, the dimples in her cheeks come out, but she seems to catch herself doing it. Her face turns more serious, and she takes a deep breath as she drags her fingers through her hair. She turns away from him and opens a cupboard only to find a wall of mugs. She opens another one—mugs. Another—mugs all the way down.

Every corporate event, every team building getaway, every convention, commemorative mugs come back to the office. There are more mugs here than there are people in the building.

Dalisay looks baffled.

“Here,” Evan says. He holds out his hand and Dalisay steps back. He pulls a handle below the counter and reveals a drawer full of tea bags, coffees, and terrible instant espresso. “Voilà.”

“My caffeine hero.”

“Not all of us wear capes.”

Dalisay tips her head to the side playfully, grinning, but she catches herself again, clears her throat, and starts flipping through tea bags with dexterous fingers.

The water bubbles in the kettle, making it rock slightly in its dock, and clicks off. Steam rises from the lid when Dalisay opens it to cool off a little and chooses a mango green tea. She offers him one too without realizing that it’s his favorite, second only to his morning espresso.

“Thanks,” he says, as she pours them both a mug.

Evan chews on his bottom lip and shifts his weight from one hip to the other. He should ask her out, he’d be crazy not to. There’s a spark between them that’s hard to ignore. He’s used to asking women out, but this time, something feels different. He can’t quite place it, but whatever it is, it’s making his mouth dry.

Before he can chicken out, he says, “Look, I don’t normally do this, but I was wondering if you’d want to grab a drink with me sometime.”

Dalisay pauses, then slowly puts the kettle back in its dock. She turns, squares her shoulders to him, and looks him up and down, taking in his navy-blue sweatshirt, jeans, and blunnies—his go-to travel wear. Something flashes in her eye, a brightness he doesn’t expect, and one corner of her mouth lifts.

“You travel a lot, don’t you,” she says. Not a question.

He looks down at his outfit and decides to play along. “Comes with the job. I like to think I know my way around an airport at least.” He gives her another smile, but Dalisay hums and curls her lips. “I’m free tomorrow, if you are,” he says.

When Dalisay laughs, it rings. “Wow.” She shakes her head in disbelief and dissolves the honey in her tea with a wooden stirrer. “Tomorrow. So soon . . . Really?”

“You have plans?”

Dalisay flips her hair over her shoulder and squints one eye at him, like she’s looking through a microscope. “Let me guess—correct me if I’m wrong but let me try. Europe is like your playground. You’ve been there so often, you probably think you know how the rest of the world works.”

He’s not sure what she’s getting at. “Travel enough, you start to realize people are the same everywhere. I’m not quick to judge.”

“You may be right. But the thing is, though, I’m from the Philippines. It’s a long way from Paris.”

“I didn’t know I was getting a geography lesson today,” he says. He likes the way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles.

“Perhaps you should study some more then.”

There’s a distinct shift in the tone of the conversation, and Evan’s charm starts to wear from his smile. Is that a hardness in her eyes now, or is he reading her all wrong? He starts to scramble for some sort of excuse. Is this about his sweatshirt? His Blundstone boots? He always dresses comfortably for long flights, but he wouldn’t call his style sloppy. “Is it something I said?”

“No, not the particular words themselves.”

“Mind filling me in?”

Dalisay sighs and tosses the wooden stirrer in the trash. When she looks back at him, he’s captured in her gaze. “Let me be clear then. I’m not interested in American hookup culture. No drinks, no dinner, no coffee. That might work with someone else, not me.”

Evan balks. She doesn’t have to sound so haughty. “A simple no would have been fine.

“Then the answer is no.” Her dark eyes sparkle, shining like the night sky, and she looks down her nose at him. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that.”

Evan raises a curious eyebrow as Dalisay turns and leaves. But before she disappears from the kitchen, she looks back at him.

“You may know Milan, Evan Saatchi, but you don’t know Manila.”

The Five Stages of Courting Dalisay Ramos will be released on July 9, 2024, but you can pre-order it right now. 

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Lacy Baugher Milas is the Books Editor at Paste Magazine, but loves nerding out about all sorts of pop culture. You can find her on Twitter @LacyMB