by Camy Tang
He waved a hand. “Oh, I don’t mind talking about it.”
“Well, I do.” You cretin. She could barely spit the words past her gritted teeth.
Oblivious to the gathering storm, George leaned forward. “But today’s technology is so great.”
She spoke as slow and measured as a speech therapist. “And-what-is-that-supposed-to-mean?”
“Well, you know . . . plastic surgery. It can help . . . people . . . look so much better.”
She couldn’t speak. Her vocal cords weren’t responding.
The moron kept talking. “You can get surgery for cheap. If you go to Mexico, you can get it for half the price as the U.S.” He beamed at her in friendliness mingled with pity.
She wondered how she could dispose of his body.
George was begging to get decked. With a two-by-four. Or maybe the aluminum baseball bat Lex kept in her car trunk. She’d forgotten to include on the List: Must never mention body parts, or else risk decapitation. They hadn’t even gotten their appetizers yet. He’d ruined her entire evening and she wouldn’t get dinner.
She was starving. She wanted crab.
No, she would walk out on him, breathe fresh air, clear her head, shake the dust from her shoes.
Or she could endure the evening and stick him with the bill. This place didn’t exactly have McDonalds’ prices.
Escape or revenge?
Freedom or suffering?
Peanut butter sandwiches or garlic roasted crab?
A steaming plate appeared in front of Lex — the crab wontons, nestled in a lettuce leaf. Blond deep-fried dumplings.
Maybe she’d walk out without braining George . . .
Another waiter swept past their table holding two platters of Crustaceans’ signature entrée. Rich, briny crab. Nutty brown butter. Lex’s stomach growled. “Let’s just finish dinner.” Granted, it came out sounding a bit strangled.
George smiled and tucked his napkin into his shirt collar.
Lex paused as she settled her napkin in her lap.
Her look must have clued him in, because he stiffened his shoulders. “This shirt cost me three hundred dollars and the tie is Ermene-gildo Zegna. I’m not getting it dirty. Do you know how much good dry-cleaning costs?”
Why was she surprised by anything that came out of his mouth by now? Just eat and leave.
As Lex pierced a wonton with her fork, its bubbled surface flaked pastry onto the stainless steel tines. She brought it to her mouth. The outer shell crunched against her teeth while the satiny, cheesy filling melted on her tongue. A ribbon of sweetness from the fresh crab lingered in her mouth.
Aaaaaahhhhhh . . .
George bit into a wonton with relish. “I had a girlfriend who could make these.”
Lex bit her tongue. The pain made her start and drop her fork with a clatter against the porcelain plate.
Her next wonton didn’t taste so divine.
He looked like he would expound on his master-chef-ex-girlfriend as soon as he finished chewing. She needed a tangent. “Do you cook?”
“I make a jambalaya that women swoon over . . .”
Could the man ever say something that didn’t involve other females? Lex listened with half an ear to his masterful feats of culinary genius. At least getting their food meant that he didn’t talk as much.
The Caesar salad arrived, aromatic with garlic, studded with caramel-colored anchovies. The crisp lettuce popped in her mouth with freshness. The perfect balance for the wontons, and a way to ready her palate for the crab to come. The dressing sizzled with hot pepper, tangy vinegar, creamy mayo, and bright lemons.
George cut into an anchovy. “Salads are a great way to lose weight.”
That was random. “Um-hm.” Just keep chewing, Georgy-boy, so I don’t have to listen to you.
“But you need exercise too. Increase muscle mass, increase metabolism.”
Where was he going with this? Lex cleared her throat. “How often do you work out?”
“Three times a week minimum, but I try to make it more often.”
Lex did a discreet appraisal. Not a powerhouse, but not flabby. He probably only made it to the gym twice a week on average. She sighed. She and George didn’t even have athleticism in common, because she worked out much more than he did. “Do you play sports?”
George swallowed a bite. “I’m taking kickboxing right now. You should try it, it’s fun.”
On the volleyball court, she didn’t mind getting bruises and floor burns on her body, but blows to the head wigged her out. Kickboxing? No, thank you. “Mm-hm.”
“It’s great exercise. You’d tone your body a bit.”
Uneasiness and suspicion caused a prickling at the back of her eyeballs and a humming along her jaw. “What do you mean?”
His handsome smile could charm the knife away from a serial killer. “You’d fit your clothes better and feel great about yourself.”
What?
Sure, she didn’t have curves, but she never thought she looked out of shape. She glanced down. Her tucked-in blouse ballooned out from her skirt waistband. She thought the loose top would hide her flat chest while the pleated skirt would give her hips, but maybe it gave another illusion entirely. Did he actually think she looked fat?
Lex didn’t say anything for a long time. A weird emotionless feeling had descended on her. She blinked, wondering what her reaction should be.
Gee, I ran five miles yesterday, and the day before that, I did lateral movement drills on a sand volleyball court. Not enough toning?
You know, I didn’t care much for sparring sports, but you’re making me rethink that.
My life has been completely changed by your sensitive insight into my weight and self-esteem.
The waitress saved him. Maybe she had a premonition of George’s imminent demise and swept in to rescue him. She removed the salad plates and presented the garlic roasted crab with a flourish.
Hot, pungent aromas steamed Lex’s face as she leaned over the plate for a long, ecstatic breath. An exotic mix of spices melded with the warm richness of browned butter. Only a whiff of brine. The shells had a warm, healthy sunset color. Her mouth watered.
She lifted the top shell and inhaled a sweet tang of the sea. She picked out a forkful of feathery meat and took a bite.
She magnanimously forgave George for everything. Because of him, she sat here in pure bliss.
George nattered on about fat cells, he checked out the miniskirt of the woman sitting at the next table, and she thought he called her Alicia once. He could call her Big Bird for all she cared. She had reached Shangri-la.
“Hiya, Lex!”
She plummeted straight into hell.
Mimi posed beside their table. Her sleek black dress revealed her curvy hips, while her perky C-cups squished under the low, tight neckline. She flashed white teeth framed by lipstick that screamed “Red Light District.”
“How nice to see you here, Lex.” Mimi tossed her shimmering, calf-length ponytail. She then ignored Lex and sidled up to George.
“Hi, I’m Mimi, Lex’s cousin.”
He seemed dazed by the jiggling mounds waving in his face.
“George.”
Her mesmerizing, half-lidded eyes drew close to him. “You seem familiar. Have we met before?”
Wait a cotton-pickin’ minute. What was Mimi doing? She already had Kin-Mun, and if the two-hundred-pound hunk of steroid-built muscle glaring at them from across the room indicated anything, Mimi had men by the dozen. Why go after Lex’s measly lamb? Well, granted, George was more like good-looking slime, but still. Lex sat forgotten on the other end of the table, a lump on the couch watching a bad soap opera.
George lived up to her abysmal expectations with a delighted reply. “I promise, I wouldn’t have forgotten you if we had.”
“Are you sure? I could have sworn I saw you at a naked coed Ultimate Frisbee game.”
His answering look smoldered with wicked glee. “Oh, darling, I would only fla
unt this body for a private audience.”
Lex tried not to gag. George wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but she expected a little consideration while she remained within reasonable distance. Like three feet away across the dinner table.
Mimi gave her a sly sidelong look. Can’t keep your date’s attention, Lex?
Heat rushed into Lex’s face like her head had been stuck in an oven. Her chest tightened in pain, and her lungs felt punctured. She gasped for a breath that burned down her throat. She hunched her shoulders, trying to shrink within her clothes, make herself smaller, more delicate, more feminine.
“Oh!” Mimi’s graceful hand touched her shell-shaped ear.
“Where’s my earring?” She bent to search the floor, affording a generous view down her dress.
George paused a moment to stare down at her like a predatory wolf. Then he scooted his chair back and bent to peer at the patterned carpet.
When his head fell at level with hers, Mimi lifted her chin at him.
He also tilted toward her. She smiled a slow, sensual bedroom smile, as if daring him to move the scant inches between them and press his lips to hers.
George gave an inane smile.
A spasm squeezed through Lex’s chest. Ignored and spotlighted at the same time. Shut out by the two lovebirds exchanging heated glances. Laughed at by everyone else in the restaurant who witnessed the poor plain Jane losing her handsome escort in front of her eyes.
Mimi rose languidly to her feet. A business card appeared between two fingers. Where had that come from? Her bosom? As she tilted it toward George, he plucked it from her without breaking eye contact.
She dragged a seemingly innocent finger down her neck in an unselfconscious gesture. “Nice meeting you, George.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
Mimi’s eyes flickered to Lex. “How do you two know each other?”
“Me and Lex? Oh, her brother set us up.”
Wait a minute. No, he didn’t. Richard just asked George to show her some condos. Why did George say that? It took a second for Lex to pick up what he didn’t say.
Had Richard asked him to ask Lex out to dinner?!
No way. Richard wouldn’t be that stupid. Or suicidal — because he’d know his sister would hunt him down if she found out.
But drowning her anger, a sludge-filled sea of utter mortification pulled at her with a slow undertow. She’d needed her brother to get a date.
And Mimi would tell everyone.
Lex would never live this down. She closed her eyes to block out the sight of Mimi’s sparkling gaze and surprised, mocking expression. In Lex’s world of warm darkness, Mimi’s high, trilling voice cut through.
“Oh reeeally?” A giggle. “Well, next time I’ll be sure to take advantage of Richard’s dating ser vice.”
Lex’s eyes flew open. She needed to salvage her pride behind some white-hot anger. “Stow it, Skipper.”
Mimi’s smile hardened. She looked like she did when she had ripped the head off of Trish’s Barbie doll when they were younger. A warm, vindictive rush pooled in Lex’s heart at the thought that no amount of push-up bras and scanty clothing could make Mimi look taller than an elementary school student.
Lex tilted her head toward the far table. “Now be a good girl and go home to Papa.”
Mimi turned to George and leaned her face in close. “I hope I see you sometime?”
He gave a confident movie-star impression. “You just might.”
She sashayed away.
Lex regarded George with a neutral face and burning eyes. His smile faltered.
Over his shoulder, she spotted the waitress approaching. She snapped up a hand. “I need a box.” Lex glanced at George’s untouched crab. He’d been too busy spewing out pheromones. “He will too.”
The waitress nodded and hurried away.
George blinked in astonishment. “You didn’t like the crab?”
“I’m not hungry.”
He seemed deaf to her clipped tone. “That’s good. Lower calorie intake will definitely — ”
She couldn’t believe him. “Do yourself a favor and stop talking.”
He halted mid-sentence, his mouth open, but recovered quickly.
“Ah . . . Lex, your brother and I are good friends.”
Another lowering suspicion shot tension down her spine. “And?”
“You see him pretty often, right?”
She pressed her mouth together and regarded him with a narrowed gaze.
“Can you ask him to pay you back for my half of tonight’s dinner? I, uh . . . I’m out of cash.”
NINE
Richard was so dead. He was deader than dead.
Lex jammed her key into the lock and pushed her way into the house. She’d like to indulge in a good slamming, banging, crashing fit, but Dad was sleep —
“Hey, Lex.”
“Dad? Why are you still up?” Lex closed the door and dropped her bag on the couch.
He struggled to sit up in the recliner. “How’d your date go?”
Lex glowered at the Styrofoam boxes. “I got leftovers.” And she didn’t have anything better she could say about it.
He sighed. “I hoped he might be a nice guy.”
Lex froze on her way to the kitchen. Dad hadn’t even paid attention to her love life when she’d been fantasizing over ’N Sync. “Why?”
He shrugged, a floppy up-and-down motion with his shoulders, letting his arms hang down.
It usually meant he was hiding something.
“Why the sudden interest, Dad?” Lex thrust every ounce of steel into her voice so he wouldn’t avoid her question.
He peeked sidelong at her. Lex crossed her arms.
“Well, I’m going to bed.” He hoisted himself up from the recliner.
Lex slid into the doorway to the hall and blocked it with her body.
She set her mouth in a firm line and glared.
It didn’t always work, but it did tonight. He seemed to sag as he stood there. “Grandma called.”
Lex closed her eyes and resisted the urge to bang her head against the doorframe. “About?”
“Complaining you weren’t dating enough. Not making enough of an effort.” He wouldn’t look at her.
“What else?”
He didn’t answer for a long moment. Lex wondered what else Grandma had put into his ear that he wasn’t telling her. Finally he sighed. “Do you think you could try to find a nice boy to date? Just to make Grandma happy.”
The words struck like a blow from a sword into her gut. A spasm tightened her stomach, then disappeared. She inhaled a shallow breath.
Dad never asked anything of her. Never. He let her find her own way, do her own thing. He made her stand her ground against Richard, he let her choose whatever interested her in college.
This was like the warrior on his knees.
“Yeah, Dad. I’ll find somebody.” The words sounded strong and sure despite working around the tightness in her throat. “I’ll make sure he’s a Suns fan.”
Dad smiled like his old self. Lex moved aside so he could shuffle off to bed.
“Oh, Lex.” His voice echoed down the small hallway. “Mr.
Tomoyoshi called. He said to tell you he’s sorry, but he can’t sponsor the girls’ team.”
What?! Lex turned to stare at her father. Did she hear the wrong thing? “He said no?”
Dad nodded. “Why’d you ask him? Isn’t Grandma sponsoring your team?”
“Ah . . .” Lex’s mind scrambled. “She might not after Mariko’s wedding. So, I’m asking people just in case.” Oh no! What if Grandma found out? “But don’t say anything, okay, Dad? Grandma didn’t say for sure she wouldn’t do it, and she’d be hurt I was looking.”
Her father nodded and headed back down the hallway with a yawn.
Well, Lex would have to be satisfied with that. She didn’t even want to consider what would happen if Grandma found out.
She’d have already tal
ked to Robyn if she hadn’t been late . . . Yeah, yeah. Story of her life.
Her grass doubles match now over, Lex gulped water from her Nalgene bottle and looked around for Robyn. She’d just seen her . . .
“Good game, Lex.” Kin-Mun, her doubles partner, toasted her with his own water bottle and swiped at the sweat pouring down his face.
“You too.” They’d committed to this tournament weeks ago, and Lex had worried that there would be awkwardness because of their almost-date. She had discovered that her initial feelings of complete devastation — okay, maybe it hadn’t been that dramatic — had dissipated as quickly and completely as water on a hot hibachi grill, but she wasn’t sure how Kin-Mun would feel.
She shouldn’t have even wasted the neurons. She didn’t understand how, but Kin-Mun chose to pretend nothing had happened, and they’d played together as fluidly as usual. They’d returned to their competitive, easy-going, platonic relationship with unbelievable ease. Lex supposed that was a good thing. Kin-Mun was the best doubles partner she’d played with yet.
“You were on fire.” Kin-Mun grinned.
Yeah, she felt on fire right now despite the cool temperature. She fished her towel out of her bag and tried to stop Niagara Falls from pouring down her forehead. “Have you seen Robyn?”
“I saw her at registration earlier.”
“I arrived at the tournament late, so I couldn’t talk to her before we started. Where is she now?”
Kin-Mun used his extra inches of height to scan the grass tournament grounds. “Far side, near court three, talking to Jill.”
Lex hoofed it over to court three. Robyn knew practically everyone who played volleyball — she would know whom Lex could approach about sponsoring the girls’ team. Lex hoped she could broach the touchy topic of money with Robyn alone and with tact, for a change.
Robyn smiled and waved hello at Lex but didn’t pause her conversation with Jill. Sounded like something to do with the Nikkei Volleyball League that put on this grass tournament. Lex shifted to one foot, ready to wait.
“Lex!”
Her least-favorite person at the moment approached, sticking out from the T-shirt-clad crowd in his stylish jeans and some designer shirt that made him look muscular. Lex felt mad enough and powerful enough to take Richard down, right there in the middle of the park. She opened her mouth to lash into him when she saw he’d brought a human shield — an okay-looking guy, Richard’s age and probably single. Had Richard talked to Dad? Did he know he was in the doghouse?
