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Ayah gave him a questioning smile. “Yeah?”
He answered by holding her face between his hands and kissing her sweetly on the lips.
Oh my God!
Ayah jerked away from him the same time Mrs. Lee dragged Johnny off her and the crowd around them applauded. Everyone was looking at them, and she could feel herself turning red, especially when Mrs. Lee started reprimanding her son.
Johnny was grinning at her, seemingly deaf to his mother’s furious words. “I’ve wanted to do that since day one.”
She turned even redder at his words. Ayah turned to Mrs. Lee helplessly, hoping for some help but she got the cold shoulder instead, a look of contempt on the older woman’s face. Her eyes widened in shock. What had she done?
“Go get our luggage now, Johnny,” Mrs. Lee ordered, and this time, seeing the hard look on his mother’s face, a frowning Johnny did as asked. He was only a short distance away when Mrs. Lee spun around to face Ayah, snarling, “So that’s why you’ve been so nice to us! You thought to seduce my son and make him marry you?”
Her jaw dropped. “What are you—”
Mrs. Lee wagged a finger at her. “You will not outsmart me! I won’t let a gold digger take my Johnny away!” She said a few more words to Ayah, the kind that she didn’t want to translate in her mind because it only sounded so much worse in English, before stomping away.
When Ayah recovered from her shock, she saw that everyone was still looking at her, and everyone had understood every word.
Oh, dear.
Ayah took long locks of her hair and used it as a makeshift mask to cover her face as she began her walk of shame out of the building. She normally took her time walking down the busy streets of Tsim Sha Tsui, loving the vibrant atmosphere of the city. She liked to think of the city as Asia’s Big Apple, with its huge shopping complexes, glittery retail ads, and the nonstop flow of people from every direction.
After escorting guests to the ferry station, Ayah tended to take the longer but more scenic routes on her way back to the guesthouse. She would either go through Kowloon Park, taking the time to feed the ducks and swans and sometimes even spinning around several times before she attempted to make her way out of its waist-high hedge maze. Other times, she’d take the overhead walkway that intersected Canton Road, just so she could watch the fancy tourist ships and old school fishermen’s boats cross the bay. And when she was in the mood to be a tourist, she’d take the most crowded path of all, walking down the Avenue of Stars while munching on fried squid.
But now, she did none of those.
Now, she went directly to the nearest subway station, held on to a vacant pole, and took out her phone. In a few clicks, she had what she needed.
The most recent photo of Luuk, a bare-chested selfie that she had managed to convince him to take for her birthday last month. She had been begging him for the longest time to send her another photo. It was only fair when he always managed to convince her to send him a lot of her new ones. But for her birthday, she had laid on the guilt pretty thickly.
The memory of how he had choked in surprise and growled in frustration when she requested that he be bare-chested made Ayah smile now, cheering her up enough to forget the unfortunate incident at the ferry station.
“Take off my fucking shirt? What am I? A gigolo?” he had snarled during their Skype call that day.
“Mm…yup. My gigolo.”
There was a pause and then— “You always know what to say to disarm me.” That time, his voice was a mixture of exasperation and irritation.
“What I know is that I always like looking at you. It makes me miss you a little less.”
Another pause. “Just say the word, lieverd.”
She shook her head. “No. You were honest with me that first time – about your marriage and not having enough money to fly here. I don’t want you to be in debt just because I’m being selfish, missing you.”
The memory faded and she sighed, wishing she could call Luuk. But he had been very explicit. His divorce was still in the process of being finalized and as long as it still wasn’t approved, he would not be able to afford being openly seen with any woman. Even his calls could be screened at work, which was why she could only wait for his call and they only ever came at specific hours of the day—
Like now.
Stunned that Luuk was calling her at this time of the day—if it was nine here in Hong Kong, then it would be two in the morning in Amsterdam.
She answered it breathlessly. “Hello?”
~ Two ~
Three Days Ago, New York City
“Why are you thinking of marrying Thelma Laarson when we both know you don’t even desire her?” Farica de Koningh demanded of her cousin the moment he opened the door. She pushed past him and stalked inside his hotel room.
Nic closed the door and when he turned around, the younger girl was standing in the middle of his room, a tiny blue-eyed blond angel with the wrath of God burning in her eyes. Of all his cousins, Farica was the one closest to him, the only one whom he felt truly understood what it was like to feel unwanted as a child. Like him, she had almost become a victim of abortion and, like the rest of the older generation of de Koninghs, both her parents had been assholes, too.
Farica was special to him, a sister of his heart, but in this case she would need to learn to mind her own business.
She stomped her foot. “Well?”
“It’s none of your business, Fari.”
Farica threw her hands up at that. “You’re my cousin! I care about you. Of course who you marry is my business – especially if you’re marrying a bitch like Thelma.”
“She’s not a bitch to me,” he pointed out mildly as he crossed the room. He gestured for her to sit, more a command than a request and Farica knew it. She promptly took the couch and he sat opposite her, taking one of the armchairs.
“Drink?”
“Just water,” she said, spying the crystal pitcher of water on the table. As he poured her a glass, she started again. “Of course she's not a bitch to you, Nic. She’s after your money. She’d pretend she was a monster if that’s what turns you on.”
He handed her the glass wordlessly.
She took it with a frustrated sigh, never liking it when Nic shut himself off like this. “Nic, come on. This is marriage we’re talking about. She’s not even an heiress so this can’t be a business arrangement—”
“Oh, but it is,” he interrupted coolly. “I need someone to play hostess and make nice with business associates, preferably someone I don’t have to train for the role. I need someone to fuck occasionally when I don’t have a mistress, and I’d prefer someone who looks nice. I wouldn’t have to train her for the role, either. Most of all, I need someone who doesn’t expect me to pretend I’m in love with her.”
Farica set the glass down. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked at her cousin pointedly and asked, “And that’s the crux of the problem, right? You will have to pretend with Thelma because you’re already in love with someone else.”
His blue eyes cooled. “Bullshit.”
Farica’s eyes, also the same shade of blue, became just as cool. “You’re the one saying a lot of BS and you’re close to making your life full of BS, too.”
“I don’t want to talk about this—”
“We have to if you’re really going to marry that bitch,” she exclaimed hotly. “Nic, open your eyes, for God’s sake! You already have a girl you love and she loves you—”
“You can’t be sure of that!” His sudden snarl stunned her, and more shockingly, the deep burning passion that underlined those words.
He really had fallen in love at first sight, Farica realized with a quiet gulp. The knowledge knocked her sideways. It was real then. The kind of insta-love that most people thought was a myth – it was real. It had to be because the proof of it was in her cousin’s eyes…and in her own heart.
“We’ve just been fooling around the past year, Fari. If she…” Nic
exhaled. “If she truly did love me, don’t you think she’d have done everything possible to fly here so we could see each other again?”
“She’s poor, Nic.”
He smiled humorlessly. “Love’s supposed to make the fucking world go round and not money, right?”
She shook her head, irritated, having just realized that her cousin was determined to see fault in the girl’s every action. “You also told her you were married and that if someone saw you with another woman, your divorce wouldn’t push through. Face it, Nic. You gave her every reason to believe that she’d hurt you if she came here.”
“If it was me, I’d do anything to have her with me.”
“Really, Nic?” She raised a brow. “Because if that’s true, then why haven’t you ever gone to her again after all this time?” She could see her words sinking in as Nic’s face whitened in realization.
“I know you’re scared,” she said softly. “When you think about it logically, what happened between you two doesn’t make sense but…you alone know what’s in your heart and how you really feel about her, Nic. Not other people. I just want you to be happy and I don’t think Thelma will make you happy.”
He whispered harshly, “And you think she will?” Just saying the words out loud, just acknowledging the possibility of being with Ayah again made it hard for Nic to breathe. For over 12 long months, he had forced himself to deny his feelings and pretend that Ayah was forever a part of the past – someone he could only reach through lies, deceit, and the sweetest conversations on the planet.
“I always remember that time we met on the plane…”
“I never stop thinking about you. When I’m sad, I look at your photo and I get just a little bit more courage and strength. Well, it helps that I also pretend I’m six-feet-plus tall, have the body of a MMA fighter, and look terrifyingly powerful as hell when I scowl.”
“I can feel how tired you are, lieverd. Please go to sleep? We can talk next time. Tell me when and I’ll be awake. Doesn’t matter what time. But please rest now…you need it…”
Nic shook the memories away. “You make it sound so fucking easy,” he said bitterly. Throughout his life, he had survived by relying on no one else. Not even his family had been able to penetrate the shields he had erected around his heart. Only Ayah had found a way to sneak herself past the shields, and her presence in his heart grew a little bigger each day. And every time it did, he became a little more restless, a little more uneasy, and a little more terrified that he was misreading everything.
Could he have really fallen in love with her just like that?
Could she have really fallen in love with him after that one meeting?
Her cousin’s words had Farica looking away. “I never said it’s going to be easy, Nic. It’s not and I don’t think it ever will be. When you fall for someone so quickly like that, fall for her hard and fast – I don’t think you can ever love someone else again after it. It’s just her…or no one else.”
They were silent for a long time.
“If she finds out the truth about me…that I lied to her.Do you think she’d forgive me?”
Farica tried her best not to cry, knowing what Nic was asking without being able to say the words. “Yes,” she whispered. “It’s like what you said. Love makes the world go round.”
~ Three ~
Present Time
“Ayah? Where are you?” Luuk’s voice came clear, hard, strong, and sexy. Just hearing it made her want to fan herself. It was that hot.
“Ayah?”
She started, realizing she had lost herself in her daydreams. “I’m in the sub. On my way home. I just finished escorting some guests to the ferry station.”
“Mrs. Lee and her son?”
His memory and attention to details never failed to impress her. “Yes,” she confirmed, smiling. It made her feel all kinds of appreciated whenever Luuk proved to her that he really was listening to her when she talked – or even rambled over the phone.
“Isn’t it 2 am there?” she asked. “Why are you still up?”
“Work,” he answered briefly. “What are your plans for today?”
“Mm…nothing, I think.”
“Good. I had a package sent to you and it should arrive anytime today.”
“A package?” she repeated excitedly. “What is it? Your baby albums?”
Pause.
Cough.
“I’m afraid not.”
She accused him, “You’re laughing at me right now, aren’t you?”
Pause.
Longer pause.
More coughing.
“You totally are! Why is it so funny that I’d want your baby albums?”
“I’m not, lieverd, I promise. And it’s not funny, of course not. It’s in fact very sweet and cute of you to want my, err, baby albums.”
“I just need it for my scrapbook.”
“I understand.” Cough.
She sighed. “No, you don’t.”
Cough.
“I’m hanging up—”
This time, Luuk really did laugh. “Only you, lieverd…no one ever threatens to hang up on me.” His voice dropped a notch, adopting a rueful tone. “And only you would ever actually get away with such a threat.”
“I’m slightly mollified.”
“Such threats only have power over me because I would hate missing any chance to talk to you.”
A grin tugged the corner of her lip. “Okay, very mollified now.”
Luuk laughed harder and she grinned widely, able to imagine Luuk throwing his head back as he let his amusement out. These were her favorite moments, even more so than that one nine hour flight with the most amazing orgasms she had ever experienced.
“I have to go now, lieverd.”
“Yes, you should,” she agreed unhesitatingly. “It’s super late there, I know. Time to hit the bed.”
“I’ll rest when I hear the words.”
She said softly, “Lieverd, I miss you, I love you, and I dream of one day flying in your arms again. Good night.”
Ayah was smiling by the time she emerged from the sub and all the way up to the tenth floor, which she used the stairs to reach since the elevator queues were too long.
Mr. Hsu, the old white-haired widower who owned Nana’s Guesthouse, took one look at her face and snorted. “He called you again, didn’t he?” He was seated behind the counter like he always was, his eagle eye trained on the screen that showed footage from the various CCTV cameras installed throughout the tenth floor.
“He misses me,” she said smugly, responding in Cantonese as well, albeit less fluently. It was the one Chinese dialect she struggled with the most. Fujian and Mandarin, she had conquered easily, using it to communicate with overseas Chinese guests. Cantonese was more complicated. There was something about the harder tones and quicker rhythm of Hong Kong’s official language that had her tongue tripping over the words frequently.
Mr. Hsu rapped the floor with his cane, saying emphatically, “No, he doesn’t.” He gave her a baleful look. “He misses playing with you.”
She rolled her eyes, unaffected. Mr. Hsu wasn’t alone in thinking that way. Everyone else who knew about Luuk thought she was a fool for “saving” herself for him, but she didn’t think so. Actually, it was a very practical thing to do. If she gave her virginity to anyone other than Luuk, it would be a disaster. But if she waited for Luuk…
Ayah sighed.
Mr. Hsu let out a loud ‘hmph’ at hearing it. “You’re in for a heartbreak,” he warned her as she twirled her way to the back kitchen to grab a glass of water.
Outside, she heard the phone ring and Mr. Hsu answer it. A second later, he called out, “Mari’s looking for you.”
“Be there in a sec.” She hurriedly drank the rest of her water and went out again. “Mari?”
“I’m in huge trouble,” her friend said right away. “Today’s the speed dating event and we’re lacking one girl! She’s down with flu, the idiot.”
&n
bsp; Ayah laughed. “I’m sure she couldn’t help that, Mari.”
“Idiot went skinny dipping in Repulse Bay at three in the morning.”
Oh. The recent typhoon that hit Hong Kong had only left this morning. Maybe the girl really did need to think twice about her decisions.
“…please?” Mari was begging.
“Sorry, I missed that.”
“…her place…here right away…please?”
“You’re getting choppy,” Ayah said.
“…come…here…place!” The line went dead.
Maybe Mari wanted her there for moral support, Ayah thought, chewing her lip as she put the phone down. She glanced at Mr. Hsu. “Can I take a few hours off and make it up tonight? I think Mari needs me at the café – a hiccup in her first speed dating event.”
Mr. Hsu waved her away, already busy playing Tetris on Facebook.
With a sigh, she hurried to the elevator, waited for ten minutes, and saw that it was still stuck on the third floor. Oh well, Ayah thought as she made a 180-degree turn and headed for the back stairs. At least she’d get her exercise with the stairs.
****
Fifteen long minutes had passed before Nic was finally next in line to step in the elevator. He couldn’t believe that Ayah worked in such a dingy old place. The building’s reception area was no larger than his dressing room, forcing everyone to squeeze next to each other like can-packed sardines as they waited for their turn at one of the two ancient-looking elevators.
“What floor?” the old man, who seemed to act like some kind of Chinese ferryman to hell, demanded just as the elevator doors opened and Nic was about to step inside.
“Tenth.”
He shook his head at Nic. “Other elevator. Go back in line.”
Was the man fucking serious?
Seeing that he was still not moving, the old man pointed to a taped message on the wall post between the elevators. “Left elevator, ODD floors. Right elevator, EVEN floors.” He muttered something that sounded like “hoe chon”, which – from the Cantonese lessons Ayah occasionally supplied him with – Nic knew meant ‘really stupid’.