The Gaze of Caprice (The Caprice Trilogy Book 1)

by Cole Reid

  Diana was thinner than the Li women. Xiaoyu’s mother and sister wore curves from puberty onward, a trait handed down from Baba. Li Xing took after Mama. They were the skinny ones. Diana lived a city life and dressed and acted much like Xiaofeng at the same time in her life. Xiaoyu imagined Xiaofeng in the same way, nights on the town with young suitors. The idea gave him a piece to chew on. It was one way of imagining his unseen sister.

  Diana was familiar enough but different enough to be worthwhile. If they were too similar to anything either had known it would be a caution. If they were too dissimilar it would be a warning. But Diana wasn’t like Xiaofeng. She talked and talked, as if Xiaoyu wasn’t really there. It was a contrast to his sister who always wanted to know what he was thinking and tried to protect him. Diana just seemed like she wanted him around then she’d go on and on as if he weren’t. He could be present and absent all at the same time. He had felt a similar feeling all his life, making it easy to feed her the line—he fed her the line. He was a businessman out of Hong Kong and he was doing a private equity deal between a Hong Kong and Malaysian company. The deal also included a Singaporean company. He couldn’t name names because the deal was between private companies but he assured her the deal would be in the paper months after it was finished. The time presented a relative safety net. After the deal, Xiaoyu would be back in Hong Kong exponentially, no more revolving flights to Kuala Lumpur. He couldn’t give an exact timeline of when he would be leaving; negotiations were still on going. Her story he already knew. But she told him so much more. Xiaoyu realized something about himself. He liked listening. They shared a taxi back to her building. There was no invitation for Xiaoyu to come up only a promise to make plans for the weekend. The only ambiguity was whether they’d see each other at the coffee shop or get in touch by phone. It was decided that Xiaoyu would call her on Friday if they didn’t see each other at the coffee shop the next week.

  • • •

  Diana wasn’t at the coffee shop Wednesday or Thursday but she came Friday, saving Xiaoyu the phone call. Their contact became patterned. Diana—who became fond of having Xiaoyu listen to her—assumed he was always up to listen, making her more able to talk. And she did talk. While she talked, Xiaoyu had the opportunity to think. Being Guo Bai was easy when most of what he did was listening. Not talking made it easier to be someone else. Xiaoyu was supposed to get more information from Diana. The fact that she was comfortable talking to him lent both providence and Xiaoyu a hand. On Saturday, they took a boat ride on the river. The city felt more peaceful while afloat but looked threatening from afar. As the boat went further along the river and farther from the city, so much of who Diana was melted away. She had spent years making herself into a society woman. Her short-cut hair was the classic working girl symbol—neat and professional—no fuss. Her summer dresses weren’t tailor made but the fit didn’t show a difference. All the customizations of life faded as the city became the background. She paid closer attention to the natural landscape and natural order. She brought up the topic of him leaving. He didn’t know how to respond. It was part of the operation for him to leave. It was true before the operation began. But he had to acknowledge something that he ignored before. He was dealing with a real person. The project would proceed like real. She wasn’t Jusuf Juric pretending to be Aleksandar Stojanovic or Mykola Voloshyn living as a priest. All elements around them were her actual life. Her job at Malpen was her natural life.

  She told him she was anxious. Her heart had been on hold for a good long while. But she was twenty-nine years old—no kid. Letting herself become unbridled for a man she knew would leave wouldn’t tame her heart but inflame it. There would be frustration from distance. All things ended one way or another. It was likely; she knew. They’re relationship would end out of distance. But there was hope. She was a high-level systems administrator. He was a dealmaker. She could find work in Hong Kong. She speculated she could easily switch citizenship from Chinese to Hong Kong if she made the city her home. Kuala Lumpur wasn’t exactly China. She considered herself a citizen of the world. But not everywhere in the world felt like home. She was as cosmopolitan as she would get and she would always be Chinese in Malaysia, never a true local. She said she was beginning to look at citizenship as urbanization instead of nationalization. She had traveled South Asia for work and realized every country varied from city-to-city. She considered her citizenship as Kuala Lumpuran. If she moved to a different city it would become her new citizenship. After all, she proclaimed a detailed knowledge of Kuala Lumpur that so many Malaysian couldn’t. A Malaysian villager looked more out of place in the city than she did. That little irony was only the beginning. She spoke English and it was the stronger currency. A Malaysian who depended on speaking and being spoken to in Malay could get by but his social standing in the city would be limited by his language, not what he might say.

  Xiaoyu realized she was a creature adrift. Tastefully, he realized this before they got out of the boat. Instead of stopping at a village restaurant along the river they took the return ride on very empty stomachs to dine in style at Marquis Medi, in the city center. The restaurant was known for its kitchen staff who hailed from the Amalfi Coast. The combinations weren’t common in Malaysia neither were the ingredients, pastas and Parmesan, tomatoes and tortellini. The seafood was mostly imported. It raised the price and prize of eating at Marquis Medi. Xiaoyu suggested Diana meet some of his colleagues. He wanted to assure her the relationship was to last longer than his stay in Kuala Lumpur. At the same time, they both agreed that it didn’t have to. The unlikely idea that they would remain friends no matter what came up. They both openly agreed to the idea while holding on to private doubt. Xiaoyu’s doubt was absolute. They decided that having fun while time allowed was the only way to proceed. No matter what happened they could always deny they were even dating and tell themselves they were only having fun. It might complicate things but fun was fun. In the interest of fun, they agreed over dinner that it didn’t make sense to always be two. They planned an indoor rock climbing session for the following weekend. Xiaoyu would bring two of his colleagues helping with the transaction. Diana would bring a girlfriend she met at a self-defense class. It was just for fun.

  It was all for fun but it wasn’t all a lie. Joe and Mason were Xiaoyu’s colleagues. They were all involved in a transaction in Kuala Lumpur. Joe was based locally. Mason was from America but worked out of Hong Kong sometimes. The fantastic weaving of true and false made the deception almost fun, if fun was a way of thinking about deception. The wall was 35-meters high. It made sense to choose an objective. For a reserved two hours, they would each climb the wall thrice. Whoever had the shortest time after three combined trips would be the winner. Xiaoyu—the obvious athlete—could have won the game. But he let the spotlight—which initially fell on him—fall off. Because of Xiaoyu’s mild forfeit, Yamila was the winner—Diana’s friend. The rock climb was legitimate fun. Even Mason allowed himself to admit it. It was the most fun he had on the job, excluding setting up the board to play. The Chessmaster preferred working with his plans but enjoyed the distinction in working with his hands. After the climb and competition were done, Xiaoyu suggested food. Yamila suggested a Bhuddist restaurant, although she didn’t follow the tradition. Yamila had an aggressive nature that left no arguments. The Bhuddist restaurant became the second destination of the day.

  They all managed to fit into a booth. The restaurant was a modern take on Bhuddism. The statues were in place and the lighting was low to match, although the restaurant had the feeling of a diner. But the name was impressive, One of Garden. The men: Joe; Mason and Xiaoyu sat on one side. Diana and Yamila had more space on the other side. Yamila tactfully sat down first and went to the end of the seat, sitting opposite Xiaoyu. Diana sat across from Joe. Mason was a leftover at the far end. Diana didn’t have a lot of weight to carry up the wall but she lacked enough muscle to carry what she did have. Her skinny—almost malnourished—look was in fashion but i
t stood in deep contrast to Xiaoyu’s athletic build. Yamila was the rock climber. It was the reason she won after Xiaoyu decided he shouldn’t. A flutter of a feather of jealousy was all but obvious. Yamila’s figure wasn’t the direct opposite of Diana’s but the desired opposite. Whereas Diana was skinny, Yamila wasn’t fat. She was toned with very little fat. Being ethnic Malay her skin was a rustic red. Her body looked healthier than Diana’s sickly appearance. Yamila was the more attractive of the two but Diana had the more feminine face. Still, the men at the table seemed to pay more attention to Yamila, herself demanding it. Mason said little. He chimed in with a witty insight that kept the conversation going. Joe was naturally talkative. It wasn’t a desired habit for intelligence work but a background agent had to fill other agents in. That required talking.

  Diana spent the entire lunch in a clandestine battle with Yamila over airtime. If the minutes were counted, Yamila spoke and was spoken to more than Diana. Mason was the one counting. Joe was attracted to Yamila and he let it show. Mason remembered he was working and stuck to the script. All three men reiterated the transaction they were involved in couldn’t be discussed at length. They gave general details and the details were the same. Without discussing business, the conversation remained interesting. Everyone at the table was well traveled. The lunch lasted over two hours before it began to get tired. Diana was bored of being ignored and didn’t hide it well. Xiaoyu and Mason both felt it was time to wrap up. Mason was the senior agent so he called for the bill, the obvious signal. When the waiter came to the table Joe and Yamila were in conversation mode with no hint of stopping. Yamila tried repeatedly to get Xiaoyu involved, asking him questions about himself. Xiaoyu like Mason remembered he was working and didn’t want to create a damper on his progress with Diana. He was polite but tried not to get dragged into a conversation with Yamila. Joe was lost in character. Whether he knew he was working depended on whom he was working for. It seemed as if Joe had bought his own cover and thought he was a financier playboy. He started making jokes in Malay that only Yamila could understand. The bill was paid but he kept going. Mason wanted to feel like he had control of the situation. Joe was becoming a problem. Xiaoyu thought differently. If they were international dealmakers one of them should be hitting on Yamila. Although Mason didn’t like it, Joe was keeping the rouse on its feet. Asking for Yamila’s number went overboard according to Mason. But Joe would be in Kuala Lumpur long after Xiaoyu and Mason were gone. A background agent had to have contacts. Sexy contacts had an obvious advantage.

  Female contacts were better grounded in reality. A sexy female contact was a trump card. Joe knew better than Mason. To be a background agent worth his salt, Joe had to know people in Kuala Lumpur. Yamila was sporty and aggressive, a go-getter. She knew many people in the city; there was no question. Joe made a judgment call. Yamila was worth keeping in contact with. Joe was right. Mason didn’t fully understand it. Joe gave Yamila a goodbye in Malay. The rest all did the casual handshake and nice to meet you. Joe and Mason left in a taxi. Yamila parked nearby and decided to walk herself. Xiaoyu and Diana went a different direction.

  Diana was upset. It was the kind of feeling maturity couldn’t manage and half-smiles couldn’t hide. Being cosmopolitan couldn’t do anything about being human. Xiaoyu offered to walk her home. She didn’t welcome him, but she let him. They walked awhile before taking the Peoplemover Monorail. Diana tried to stay silent but that wasn’t the nature of their relationship. Xiaoyu was the silent one. Diana did the talking. She gave him a litany; a ball dropped. It turned out Xiaoyu wasn’t the only one putting on appearances. Diana’s cool girl metropolitan way wasn’t so she could fit in. It was armor for her to hide in. She had deep-rooted self-image issues. Yamila seemed to have a way with Diana’s armor or a way around it. Diana had always thought she was too thin. She had a bitter disappointment with the way her body developed. She never wanted to be a bombshell but she told Xiaoyu even his chest was bigger than hers. She worried about having a baby because she said she didn’t know how she would feed it. Xiaoyu said nothing just listened. She was never teased about her body but she learned of its consequences. She was dumped by more than a few boyfriends without explanation. They were never forthcoming. But in a place like Jiang Cheng, it was easy to bump into anyone by accident. She ran into one ex-boyfriend on a number of occasions. She also saw her replacements. The new girlfriends had well-defined figures, more defined than hers. Xiaoyu remembered what Georgia had said you could get someone to risk death if you made them feel alive. Diana felt somewhat dead. It was obvious. She dealt with an underlying feeling of inadequacy. In her own eyes, she didn’t measure up to her own womanly standard. Xiaoyu took them to a liquor store after they left the monorail.

  • • •

  The Mandarin conversation gave Diana some relief. The cool girl of society spoke English and was familiar with the latest English terms. With Xiaoyu, she could be Liu Dan from Jiang Cheng, a way of resurrecting herself. Xiaoyu bought a bottle of Grand Marnier. They passed a small grocery store on the way back to her apartment. He bought cola and oranges. Tracing the steps back to Diana’s apartments, he made a simple cocktail he learned from Georgia. Georgia taught him how to mix alcohol and the consequences of alcohol in the mix. He knew how it took the edge off. How it increased testosterone levels in women. He knew how it tasted and how to make it taste good. The Grand Marnier mixed with cola and the orange peel oil on the lip of the glass was a home remedy. It wasn’t the kind of sophisticated drink that would be recommended for nights dressed to impress. Kuala Lumpur was a sophisticated backdrop. The right outfit with the wrong drink was the same as an expensive dress with cheap shoes. The try would fail. But for two people from the same part of the world living like sophisticated refugees, it was the right flavor. The orange twist was nice and natural. The carbonated pop was synthetic and sufferable. The cocktail was exciting in its own way. Drinking it quick made the bubbles burn her throat. It didn’t matter; she was ready for another. Xiaoyu poured while he listened. Diana was naturally jealous of Yamila. Xiaoyu admitted her comeliness but said he was only being polite. Diana went on about a deep-seated conspiracy by Yamila to always outdo her. It was obvious Yamila wanted the kind of friend that made her look better. But Xiaoyu had his doubts about a conspiracy. Diana could drink when she was upset. She started her third cocktail when Xiaoyu finished his first. In the middle of her third cocktail, Xiaoyu noticed a hungry look in her eye. He had seen the look before in Georgia’s eyes. A bit of stress. A bit of a solution. He kept his drink in his hand and walked across the room to kiss her. She didn’t join in the kiss neither did she fight it. The slow reaction was the effect of the alcohol. She pushed him away with her right hand keeping her drink in her left. She finished her drink in one swallow and leaned in toward Xiaoyu. He had shown her his kiss. She showed him hers. Her kiss was a serious thing. She rolled her body against his and wrapped her left arm around his neck. Realizing that she still held her glass she took it with her right hand and dropped her right arm. She pushed Xiaoyu back toward the kitchen and set her drink on the counter. Xiaoyu did the same. Xiaoyu knelt down grabbing her by the waist. He stood up and slung her over his shoulder. Carrying her to the bedroom, he slid her out of her dress as he brought her back down to the floor. She stood on the floor in the bedroom with the same look in her eye. Xiaoyu pushed her on the bed and slid her lace underwear down her legs. Unfastening his belt, he got out of his clothes in under a minute. He pinned her to the bed and kissed her again. Again and again. They exchanged body parts for over an hour. Before Diana said she was tired and bowed out. Xiaoyu was beginning to believe Georgia about the effect of excess testosterone in her system. Diana was passive compared to Georgia. But she seemed to enjoy being with him more. She lied on his chest as he stroked her hair and he looked up at the ceiling, which had the effect of the sky.

  As he stared at the ceiling, thoughts rolled through his head like clouds. He thought of how he would get the information he n
eeded from her and how he would get back to Paris. Paris made him think of Marti Laine. He felt guilty when he thought of Marti but didn’t know why. Thinking of Marti with Diana napping on his chest felt awkward. He had thought of Georgia many times and thought nothing of it. Thinking of Marti made him want to return to Paris. Not to rush her into the bedroom like Diana but to talk to her without pretense. His world was becoming complex. In the beginning, there were just enemies. He was bullied constantly which had one benefit. It made his enemies clear. They revealed themselves every time they said his name, Heigui. With Diana there was endearment. She laid her head on his chest with a sense of security. The feeling was menacing. Georgia’s words came back into his head. She was right. He could work with his fists. It was straightforward. Working with his fuss, he didn’t like. There was no way to tell but he felt it couldn’t end well. Eventually, the truth would be the heaviest thing in the room, heavier than her head on his chest. So heavy it would fall to the floor and they’d both be standing on it. Now he was standing on ceremony and it reminding him of betrayal. It reminded him of someone he killed. Even the irony of Diana sleeping against his fake skin didn’t make sense. Georgia was right again. It was necessary for him to spray his entire body. He didn’t know he would finish the day like he started it, naked. Guo Bai didn’t have the Mark. Xiaoyu did. Diana and Xiaoyu had unusual similarities. Both wanted acceptance and had ultimately failed. And both were self-conscious about their bodies.