‘Yes, it is a very good working relationship.’
‘I’m glad you think so. I think so too. We’ve had many advantageous interactions.’
‘Your company has always helped us.’
‘As has yours. We work well together. And I hope our relationship continues for many years.’
‘Yes, that is our wish too.’
They went on like that nearly until lunchtime, repeating the same sentiments with minute variations. Neither flagged. Chung and I nodded and smiled at each other every time our respective bosses spoke. I wondered if he was as tired as I was of being a punctuation mark.
‘We would like some more time to consider our offer,’ Mr. Wang said, jerking Chung and me out of our grinning contest.
‘Oh? Of course. Take as much time as you need. Is there any more information that I can provide to you?’
I caught Chung’s darting glance at Wang. Josh didn’t see the look. Danger, danger, danger, I wanted to shout. But he was intent upon Mr. Wang.
‘We would like some more time to examine the accounts,’ Mr. Wang said. His face was impassive, as it had been throughout.
‘If there are any questions, I’m more than happy to answer them.’
‘We have a few questions… We understand that there may be some… irregularities in the accounts. We would like to examine them further.’
Josh’s face was very still. ‘Irregularities? What kind of irregularities?’
‘We are not sure. It has come to our attention that there may be.’
What was he talking about? Our accountant had been with the company for decades. She knew what she was doing. I stared at Josh, wondering what he’d do next.
‘Mr. Wang, I can assure you that there are no irregularities in our accounts. We have always run a very above-board business. Our accountant is very careful, and she’s been with us since my father was CEO. May I enquire as to what has led you to believe there may be a problem?’
‘We have received information. I’m sure there’s a simple explanation. We’d like to take more time to look into it. Can we contact you next week?’
‘Of course. I understand. Take all the time you need. As you know, we aren’t talking to other companies at the moment. I’ll look forward to talking more next week.’
They didn’t spend much more time talking pleasantries after dropping their bombshell. We parted, as courteously as ever, despite the accusations of underhand dealings. Josh motioned me back into the office. He closed the door. It was serious.
He ran his hand through his hair. ‘God.’
‘What are they talking about? What irregularities?’
‘I don’t know. We have to be one of the most honest companies in Hong Kong. My father was scrupulous to a fault. Did you know the story about Lisa, about how she got hired?’ I shook my head. ‘Father’s old accountant needed to retire, so he was looking for his replacement. He liked Lisa. She had good credentials and he thought she was smart. But he’d been interviewing a lot of smart accountants with good credentials, so she didn’t have an obvious advantage over the others. They’d just finished the interview and he walked her out. About an hour later she buzzed again, asking to see Father. When she came into the office she handed him a paperclip. It had become mixed up in her papers when she was showing him her certification and CV. She wanted to return it, she said. He hired her on the spot. This is not a woman who’d tolerate any irregularities in her books. I don’t know what Wang could mean. But it could kill the whole deal.’
‘I’m sure it won’t, Josh. They know you. They know the business. It’s got to be a misunderstanding. But what did he mean, he’s received information?’
‘Obviously someone doesn’t want the sale to go through.’
‘Who?’
‘Another company. One of the exporters. We’re well-known. Our success probably grates with some companies. Someone is stirring things up. It’s not the first time it’s happened in Hong Kong. Not to us, but you hear things in the industry. It probably looks like everyone plays by gentlemen’s rules here, because our meetings are so formal and courteous. But a lot goes on under the surface. It can be very cutthroat. All we can do is be open with Wang, let them inspect the accounts and see for themselves what kind of company we are. Don’t worry, it’ll work out.’
I nodded my agreement, but I was torn. I wanted Josh to be happy. His heart was in conservation, and his dream was in England. He spent all his spare time working with Hong Kong’s Heritage Conservation Society, where he was a board member. That was his passion. Why shouldn’t he get to live his own life instead of continuing the legacy his father had left? He’d given up his twenties and thirties for the family business.
But I also wanted Stacy, and Winnie, and myself to be happy. Stacy faced losing the only boyfriend she’d ever loved to a dream halfway around the world. And we risked losing our jobs. There was no way for everybody to win.
♫ On the Seventh day of Christmas my fortune gave to me…
jolly friends a gambling
sneaky people meddling
clever new plans
champagne for two
the good friend
two second thoughts
and a ticket home to see my family ♪
Josh didn’t seem at all worried about Wang Chung’s accusations when we met at the ferry on Saturday. He was as cheery and friendly as ever. He must have thought he’d done all he could, so it was just a matter of waiting. He was a more patient person than I. It wasn’t even my business, yet I’d been obsessing over the identity of the mysterious deal-sinker. Whoever it was, he knew where to stab his victim to inflict the maximum damage. No prospective buyer wanted a shadow of doubt looming over a business they were about to pay millions for. Even when they found nothing amiss, how could they be sure they weren’t making a very expensive mistake? Whoever the culprit was, he’d already wounded the company.
It was dusk when we got to the jetty. Lights sparkled on the harbor’s choppy water, reflected from the skyscrapers in Central and Kowloon. Vivid green Star Ferries churned back and forth, consuming and disgorging passengers along the busy waterfront. There was an air of expectancy at the Turbojet jetty. Christmas was in the air, despite the Chinese government’s official agnosticism. Everybody loved a holiday.
Thanks to concurrent clothing crises, Stacy and I were the last to arrive. Dressing for a casino was new for me. And I didn’t trust Stacy’s advice, which seemed to be based solely on James Bond films. It was the twenty-first century, I reminded her. Maybe they didn’t wear floor-length dresses around the roulette table any more. She wasn’t dissuaded. Of course, she managed to pull it off – floor-length floaty dress with sparkling flat sandals that looked as good having drinks on the beach as they would blowing on a rich man’s dice. I, however, didn’t feel as comfortable in my outfit. That was because, beneath my dress, I was wearing my surprise for Sam.
I was relieved when he arrived at the same time we did. It wasn’t that he didn’t know Josh, or Brent, or Stuart, who stood patiently waiting for us. I just felt more comfortable being there when Brent and Sam were together.
Not that I thought Brent would say anything to Sam. He was my friend. He would never do anything to hurt me. I knew that with one hundred per cent certainty. It was Brent who I feared might get hurt. Inadvertently, if Sam said anything about how happy we were together. No need to rub his face in our bliss.
‘All right, me lover?’ Brent kissed me, then Stacy, repeating the greeting. He didn’t mean that literally. He was just British, from the West Country where they said odd things like that. It was the equivalent of buddy. ‘Hi, Sam.’ He stuck his hand out. ‘Nice to see you again. Right on time. Are we ready? They’re boarding.’
Macau was Stuart’s idea. It was a favorite weapon in his romantic armory. I wondered if he’d take Winnie here one day. For a man, he was surprisingly amenable to being set up. Sometimes they acted like you were suggesting colonic irrigation instead of a blind
date. But he jumped at the chance to impress a lovely Chinese woman. Tonight we were getting VIP preview tickets to his Seduction Tour.
I was all for upping the romantic stakes. Otherwise the fishnet body stocking under my dress would have made my unsightly scratching a complete waste of dignity. Not that itching was the only issue. I’d had to roll the legs up under the dress to avoid looking like an eighties Madonna reject in her Desperately Seeking Susan phase. Perhaps putting ankle-width elastic around one’s thighs wasn’t a problem for stick insects, but it made me look like link sausages. And while being crotchless was no doubt fine in the bedroom, it was a little alarming in a short-ish dress on a windy boat ride.
I didn’t share these observations with anyone, of course. Instead, I concentrated on not letting the dress fly over my head on the hour-long journey across the water.
‘It’s about a kilometer to the casinos from the old town,’ Stuart said as we hailed the taxis that whisked us from the ugly concrete waterfront. I don’t know why I expected Macau’s waterfront to be lovely and colonial when Hong Kong’s was anything but.
‘We’ve got an hour before the dinner reservation. I thought we could walk around here for a bit.’
Here looked like nineteenth-century Iberia. Centuries-old three-story high porticoed buildings lined the palm-treed square, their yellow, pink, white, brown and blue facades lit to beautiful effect. I expected Ernest Hemingway to hurry by in his linen suit and Panama hat. It seemed so out of place in China.
‘It was a Portuguese colony,’ Sam said as we strolled hand in hand behind the others. So the buildings weren’t just Disney replicas. Unlike Hong Kong, which tore down most of its colonial past, Macau’s was preserved. Josh gave us the potted history of the former colony, his eyes alight as he did so. He really loved those old buildings.
‘Are you okay? You’re quiet,’ I asked Sam when we’d drifted to the back of the group again.
‘Hmm? Yes, I’m fine.’
I peered at my boyfriend. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m just in a quiet mood tonight, I guess.’
I shouldn’t have read anything into Sam’s statement. Everyone has moods. It’s perfectly normal not always to feel like being the center of attention. It wasn’t a reflection on me. So I don’t know why I asked the next question. ‘Is it me?’
Regret immediately filled me.
‘No, Han, it’s not you. I told you. I’m just in a quiet mood. That’s all.’
I couldn’t very well push him on the subject. Well, of course I could have, but even I realized that would be a mistake. Instead, I spent the next hour trying to cajole him out of his mood. By the time we got to the restaurant I’d nearly driven him into a full-blown funk. It was not going as well as I’d hoped.
At least everyone else was jolly. Stuart enjoyed his role as tour guide and Brent enjoyed his role as his brother’s humbling influence. ‘I always have fun when I come here,’ Stuart said.
‘That’s probably more than can be said for your poor dates,’ said Brent, attracting an un-brotherly punch. ‘I don’t know why you always go overboard trying to impress women. If they need the bells and whistles to go out with you, you’re doomed to failure. Nobody can keep up the pretense forever.’
‘The difference between us, Brent, is that for me, the good life isn’t a pretense.’ He smiled when he said that, so it didn’t sound arrogant. Stuart may have been a bit cheesy, but he was just as nice as his brother. ‘My dates want the finer things in life. There’s nothing wrong with a little bling to kick-start a relationship. You should try it some time. You might have better luck.’
Josh grinned in what looked like coupled-up smugness. He’d also been around the block a few more times than the rest of us. His amusement at Stuart’s observation was clear, but I flinched. Brent’s love life was an issue even before we… you know. It wasn’t that he didn’t try. He just didn’t try as hard as his brother. So in the time we’d known each other, he’d had very few dates. ‘Brent doesn’t need luck,’ I said. ‘Any woman would be lucky to have him. He’s a catch. He doesn’t need gimmicks.’
Stuart stared at me. So did Sam. Stacy smiled. ‘I’ll second that. Brent, don’t listen to him. He dates money-grubbing social climbers–’
‘Who happen to be beautiful, intelligent, engaging creatures,’ Stuart reminded us.
‘Who happen to be beautiful,’ Stacy conceded. ‘Brent is more down to earth. So are the women he likes. So he doesn’t need to wine and dine them. Different kettle of fish completely.’
‘Like Sam,’ I said, aware that my boyfriend wasn’t a part of the conversation. Finally, a way to involve him. ‘He’s super down to earth, aren’t you? When we first went out he took me on a bicycle riding date.’ Even Brent looked surprised by this. He knew well my aversion to outdoor pursuits. ‘He doesn’t care at all about fancy restaurants or clothes or things like that. He’s just himself.’
‘See?’ Stacy asked. ‘And that’s why Hannah loves men like Sam, and Brent.’ She hugged him playfully.
Only I caught Sam’s startled glance.
‘Stick to your fancy women if you want,’ she continued. ‘But you’re missing out on a whole world of fantastic women who don’t judge you by the thickness of your wallet.’
‘Better the thickness of my wallet than the thickness of my…’ Stuart said, demonstrating the British self-deprecation that I’d grown to love over the last few years. By the time we got to the casino, they’d torn each other down as only brothers can. Sam remained quiet.
Away from the old town, Macau looked like a pint-sized Las Vegas, with neon-lit hotels and gambling palaces doing their best to part tourists from their money. Stuart’s poison of choice was the Grand Lisboa, and we happily followed him into the den of iniquity.
Or at least, most of us were happy. A mood had definitely developed between Sam and Brent. There were a few every-so-slightly pointy exchanges over dinner. That was out of character for both of them. And it had me worried. ‘Let’s find the craps table,’ I whispered to Sam with what I hoped was oh-my-goodness-what-fun-we’re-going-to-have excitement. He grinned and grabbed my hand.
I had no idea how to play, but it didn’t seem complicated. Numbers, dice, lots of shouting. The chips felt smooth and cool in my hand, not like real money at all. ‘Do you know how to play?’
‘I’ve done it a few times,’ he said. ‘Usually I just bet on the pass line. Come here, there are spaces.’ He went straight up to the table. We had front row seats! ‘Ready? Put a chip here. If he throws a seven or eleven, you double your money.’ That sounded like the easiest game in the world. After a flurry of activity while everyone placed their bets, a young Chinese man with an impassive face threw the dice against the bumper surrounding the table. The dealer took my chip.
‘What happened?’
‘We lost. He threw a three. Here, put another one down.’
‘Not so fast. Why did I lose?’
‘If he throws a two, three or twelve you lose. Ready to bet again?’
I was a sore loser. Always had been. When I was ten or eleven I found out that the Publishers Clearinghouse wanted to give my mom millions of dollars. I was so excited that I nearly peed my pants. She told me to throw the letter away. Throw it away. Was she crazy? Carefully I filled in the form and waited for the postman to deliver our check. I was disappointed for months.
The lady beside the stone-faced man threw the dice, and everyone cheered.
‘Okay, now she has to throw another five,’ Sam explained.
‘Did we win?’
‘Not yet. She just threw a five, so she has to throw another. Then we win.’
That sounded easy. She threw the dice. Seven!
‘Woo hoo!’ I cheered, hugging Sam. The table stared at me. A few people smirked.
‘No no, she sevened out. That’s bad,’ Sam said as the dealer took our chips.
‘But it was a seven. That’s double our money.’ It was the Publishers Clearinghouse all over
again. I was definitely a sore loser. ‘Maybe we should see what the others are doing.’ I also needed to go to the ladies’ room to adjust the body stocking. I’d lost circulation in my left leg.
‘Let’s go find Stacy and Josh,’ he said.
It wasn’t my imagination. He didn’t want to be around Brent. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. ‘Is there something wrong between you and Brent? I thought you liked him?’
‘What makes you think I don’t like him?’
‘I didn’t before tonight. But you’ve been acting strangely, like there’s a problem. Is there?’ My heart thudded in my chest.
‘Not exactly. It’s just that he pays a lot of attention to you. I know you’re just friends. But he acts like it’s more. Hannah, he likes you.’
‘He does not. I mean, he likes me as a friend. Of course he does. We are friends. He’s just as attentive to Stacy. And so is Stuart, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘I’d noticed. Stuart likes Stacy. That’s as obvious as Brent liking you. It’s not a big deal, but it makes me uncomfortable.’ He put his arms around me. ‘You’re a remarkable woman, Hannah, and I’m not surprised that other men see that. But I don’t like it. That’s all. I’m sorry if I’ve been quiet tonight. That’s what’s on my mind.’
Sam was jealous. That was a first. Ever since we met, I’d been the green-eyed monster (sometimes for good reason, I might point out). And now he had good reason, though he didn’t know it. What was I supposed to do? Tell him he was imagining things? Tell him the truth about Brent and me?
‘You have nothing to worry about with Brent. It doesn’t matter if he does like me, because I love you.’ I kissed him, hoping my truthful answer would be enough.
‘I love you too. And I trust you. So can we please forget I ever said anything? Brent’s a good guy, and I do like him. He’s been a good friend to you. Please, let’s forget I ever said anything. Want to go find them?’
But I couldn’t forget. Sam would never forgive me if he knew about Brent and me. His jealousy told me that. It was a secret I’d have to keep forever if we were to be together. Ha! It wasn’t like it was the only one. How many things did I keep from Sam already? As we wandered through the noisy, busy casino looking for my friends, a million little fibs snapped at my heels. I hadn’t told him I couldn’t ride a bike before that fateful trip to the New Forest. He was as surprised as me when I went over the handlebars. And speaking of outdoor activities, didn’t I lead him to believe that a jungle trek in Laos would be a fine idea? He honestly thought I enjoyed stomping through mud and rivers. There seemed no lengths to which I wouldn’t go to make him believe I was his adventurous dream girl. I’d eaten snake, for crying out loud. He didn’t know I only watched romcoms and got most of my ‘news’ from People magazine, or that I appeared to be listening to his economics talk when in reality I was probably making mental shopping lists. I had to face facts. If Sam knew everything about me, I mean really knew everything, he probably wouldn’t be so keen to talk to my parents. And if he knew about Brent and me, I might never see him again. A silly body stocking wasn’t going to compensate for that.
The Expat Diaries: Twelve Days to Christmas (Single in the City Book 3) Page 5
