“I haven’t seen you in a cheongsam in years,” Jin exclaimed from the doorway.
“Mamabai brought this for me. I was going to wear it to dinner tonight if you think it’s okay.”
The traditional Chinese dress was made of silk brocade in a bold and bright red. Gold metallic threads intricately embroidered into a leaf and flower detail decorated the entire dress, giving it specialness perfect for the New Year holiday. While the style of dress was sold inexpensively at souvenir shops throughout Chinatown, the one his mom had bought was expertly handcrafted with fine materials.
It was closely fitted, which on Mimi meant it hugged arcs and planes from every angle. The round, stand-up Mandarin collar led to the knotted cloth buttons fastened diagonally across the right side from clavicle to shoulder and Mimi’s natural posture made the customary slit at the thigh look provocative.
Jin remembered the last time he’d seen Mimi in a cheongsam. It was before he’d met Helene. They were going with Aaron to a Lunar New Year’s party at a club and Mimi’s dress had been a yellow brocade with tiny pink flowers. Mimi had looked pretty that night, but he hadn’t given it any further thought. Unlike the thoughts that had been cropping up since he’d made his good friend his wife.
He rubbed his chin as he watched Mimi slip on a pair of gold pumps that accentuated the embroidery in the dress. As the images and flickers that had been dancing around in his mind coalesced into a clear thought he realized that during this little playacting gig they were performing in, Jin had become attracted to Mimi. In that way. The way he’d promised both of them wasn’t going to happen.
It had started with that kiss at the courthouse. Then solidified when they were at Maverick Choi’s showing and Jin had almost blown up with jealousy when that creep Marc-Claude was making advances toward her.
Leave my woman alone and other macho combative words he couldn’t articulate had shouted from his brain, and from his loins. He’d felt a primal possessiveness of Mimi that was a side of himself he’d never seen before. He had been sure he’d wrestle Marc-Claude to the ground if he got any closer.
Jin needed to separate the long-standing platonic love Mimi and he had for each other from the new and disturbing emotions he couldn’t shut down. These two women in front of him, his mother and his friend, meant the world to him and he’d protect them from any possible threat. Including himself.
Jealousy. His bane. Once a man is cheated on by his wife, it’s hard not to have jealousy appear as a monster gaining strength until it is set free from its own chains to run riot and destroy everything in its wake. Jin couldn’t withstand any more of it. Jealousy could be the end of him. Which is why he’d vowed to guard himself, to never put himself in a position where that demon could get at him again.
For that and every other reason, he needed to shut down these unexpected desires he’d started to have for Mimi. He sincerely hoped that later in life Mimi would meet the man who would love and treat her right for all of eternity. He would be no part of denying or sullying that for her. She deserved as much.
For now, the two friends had made a business pact, and Jin needed to uphold his end of the bargain. Rebuild the label, make sure that Bai was taken care of, and help Mimi’s career ascend while he was at it.
That was enough.
That was plenty.
So when Mimi turned around to get his approval on the back of the dress, her shiny, wavy hair billowing over her shoulders, he fought the surge in his body as he contemplated her lush beauty.
“We should go,” Jin said slowly after a too-leisurely gander.
“Thank you for the beautiful dress and for the money,” Mimi said as she and Bai hugged.
Jin liked the two of them together, always had. As an only child, Jin was glad that his mom had Aaron to fuss over and, in Mimi, the daughter she’d never had. His mother looked contented today, something he hadn’t seen much of over the years. All the more reason Jin had to execute everything according to plans. No one was to get hurt.
“Let me get my coat and I’ll leave with you,” Bai said.
They bundled up to go out.
“Mamabai, we’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll go to the parade and then come back here to eat. Aaron is leaving work early.”
Outside of the building they kissed one another on the cheek. Jin helped his mother into a taxi headed uptown. He and Mimi walked the couple of blocks toward the restaurant where they were meeting Dickson Wells, an A-list retailer who oversaw several of LilyZ’s European outlets.
They strode arm in arm in the cold. There were lots of people going this way and that on the streets and energy filled the air. The storefronts in Chinatown were decorated for the holiday with bright banners and flags. Fashion Week often coincided with Lunar New Year, making it a busy and exciting time for the Zhangs.
At the restaurant that specialized in haute cuisine renditions of classic Chinese dishes, Jin gave his old acquaintance Dickson a hug.
“This is my wife and new designer, Mimi Stewart.”
“A pleasure,” the short, curly-haired man replied.
The restaurant hostess showed them to their table, where Jin ordered a variety of dishes intended for sharing.
When Dickson excused himself to take a phone call Mimi said, “Let me throw an idea at you.”
“Yeah.”
She leaned toward him, soft curls brushing against the side of his face. Pinching the fabric of her cheongsam she asked, “What if we did the blouses for the collection like this? We could do three different blouses in brocades, each of them with some traditional Chinese detailing. Wouldn’t that be great as something kind of global and fresh?”
“My grandfather did some collections with Chinese styling. We could go back and find the pieces.”
“It would be another nice way to pay tribute to Shun. As his grandson takes over the company.”
“Hmm,” Jin affirmed the idea. “I like your thinking, Mrs. Zhang.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Zhang.”
When he returned to the table, they tossed out the concept to Dickson, who loved it.
As Jin and Mimi trekked up the stairs to the flat after dinner, he found himself looking forward to the New Year’s celebrations more than he had in ages. Maybe it was that with Mimi’s never-ending stream of good instincts for the business, he had renewed hope that he’d be able to lift LilyZ back to its heights. Or it could be that his optimistic attitude was because he was finally getting over Helene, the hurt and betrayal she’d dealt him now blessedly receding a little into memory. Whatever the cause, he was grateful.
In the apartment, Jin and Mimi had gotten into a comfortable habit of giving each other a hug good-night in the hallway. One direction led to Mimi’s master suite and the other to Jin’s boyhood room. Their hug spot was a kind of halfway point.
A few mornings ago, Mimi had come into his room, symbolically crossing the border into what was to be only his space. Rather than oppose it, he’d welcomed her intrusion. He hadn’t understood that he still had so much inside of him to release, and felt his burden lightened after talking to her. Maybe that was a matter of course in real marriages where people trusted each other. He wouldn’t know. But found himself strangely curious.
“It was a nice day, cooking with Mamabai and then meeting Dickson.”
“I’m looking forward to eating what you and my mom prepared.”
“We go back a long way, don’t we? A lot of celebrations.”
“And bad times endured. I hope our future brings only good.”
Jin reached over and ran his hand down the length of Mimi’s hair, which had been bewitching him all evening. He twirled one of her curls around his fingers. An impulse so strong it overcame him insisted on three wispy kisses to her cheek. He was about to make a move he’d said he wouldn’t. But as that warning flitted across his mind, he took her face in his hands a
nd touched his lips to hers.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed and kissed her mouth again. Grasping a handful of her hair, he gently pulled away so that he could look at her face. It was almost as if tears were filling her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, Jin. Nothing is wrong.”
She reached her arms up and wrapped them around his neck. His hands slid slowly from her face to her arms and down to her waist, bringing her tightly to him. Locking her against him. Experiencing her body’s pliancy. Hearing the sound of her breath stutter as he explored her back, her sides, everywhere his hands roamed.
He found her lips again and delivered the kind of deep lover’s kiss that he’d never shared with her. The far recesses of his brain yelled at him to stop but he was unable to. His need for Mimi had been growing. It had now become an entity unto itself that demanded liberation.
His hands hardly knew where to go next, so eager was his body to explore hers. Many more kisses told her of his need. Hers answered back, with each kiss becoming more urgent than the next. The sweet song of her sighs drove him to a near frenzy.
He lifted her into his arms, right there in the hallway. Where their separate bedrooms beckoned.
Not tonight.
They’d deal with the fallout tomorrow. It would all work out. He couldn’t convince himself to heed any further warning. Tonight they would lie together in the master bedroom. Man and wife.
With her arms around his neck, he carried her toward the threshold. “Is this okay, Mimi?”
“Yes, Jin. Oh, yes.”
* * *
Sounds were coming from every direction. They fueled the buzz that was already shooting through every fiber of Mimi’s being. People lined the sidewalks, cheering and waving flags. The annual Lunar New Year Parade was well underway.
As always, the dragon and lion dances commanded Mimi’s attention. Human participants held the long colorful costumes above them with poles, sometimes as many as a dozen just to hold up one dragon. After no doubt rehearsing for months to synchronize their movements they zigzagged and circled, making the dragons come to life. The lion dancers used martial arts movements as they charged forward along the parade route.
Every cymbal crash, gong and drum beat vibrated through Mimi. As was the intention, the loud percussion and the faces of the dragons and their aggressive dancing were thought to drive away evil. It was a spectacle of great power, one that Mimi always looked forward to.
From their perch in front of a friend’s shop that afforded a perfect view, Mimi, Jin, Bai and Aaron took in the sights and sounds as they had for years. It was another constant in their lives together as two families.
In the beginning, Mimi’s mother, and sometimes father, came along. If it was a year that Wei was making more of an effort to be a family man he’d be here, too. And, for a few of the years, Jin had brought along Helene. This time it was just the four of them. Time had marched on.
But there was nothing ordinary about this year.
Certainly not after last night.
The memory of which was another thing coursing through Mimi.
She darted her eyes to Jin standing next to her, bundled against the cold weather in his navy blue pea coat, scarf and beanie.
Last night.
A gong echoed through her.
After thirteen years, last night Mimi experienced what she’d tried to imagine thousands of times. When they’d finished dinner with Dickson Wells and returned to the home that kept them as a married couple, they went to bed together as husband and wife.
They made love.
And everything about it was beyond Mimi’s wildest dreams.
She felt her cheeks flush, the crowd cheering around her as parade cymbals crashed while she recalled the evening. They’d been in such sync at dinner with Dickson, completing each other’s sentences and anticipating the other’s moves. Both sipping from the same cocktail glass not because there was a shortage of drinks but because there was something natural about it.
When they got back home, Jin punched in the entry code to the door and then Mimi switched on the front hall light as had become their pattern. After hanging up their coats, Mimi kicked off the gold heels that she’d worn with the cheongsam Bai had given her.
Almost to the inch, they stood facing each other at the exact spot where they’d been saying good-night to each other every evening. Where the charade of them as a married couple fell away and the two longtime friends returned to their true selves, making do in the apartment that implied truth to their lie. Where, figuratively, they patted each other on the back nightly for a con well played. With a pact to do it again the next day.
Last night, though, that wasn’t what happened. When they’d reached to each other for a hug, their bodies instinctively melded into each other’s in a way Mimi had believed was eternally forbidden. Up until that moment, when the barricades were blown open. For as much as Mimi had been in contact with almost every bit of Jin’s body over the years, last night’s touch was instantly different.
He had squeezed her to him, her flesh malleable putty in his commanding hands. He’d pressed all of his maleness, his hard angles, into her, making her feel a more feminine earthiness than she ever had before.
His mouth on hers was both familiar and brand new at the same time. While those lips and big hands had touched her before, it was in another way, with another intention. Last evening, each brush, each caress, each push forced arousal to grow in both of them. Until it couldn’t be contained.
Mimi had thought to protest. To share that final intimacy with him, at last, was to fly too close to the sun. Because Jin wouldn’t love her like that. What if she burnt into a million ashes when he came to his senses? Yet she’d wanted him too much for too long. She couldn’t say no, she’d take her chances. There was no way for logic to prevail.
“Look,” Jin said into her ear, the timbre of his voice coating over her like a blanket, as he pointed to a parade float coming into view. She instinctively leaned her face up toward his, drawn to him like a magnet. As always.
“Remember that year with those dogs dressed in red-sequined sweaters?” Mimi reminisced about a pet groomer’s float that they had found hilariously funny and talked about for months after. “With the country music?”
Jin’s huge smile sent Mimi’s head spinning.
Like last night.
After Jin lifted her into his arms he’d carried her to the bedroom. He’d laid her down on the purple bedding he had picked out for her to sleep on alone. With tiny, slow-moving kisses from her jaw down the side of her neck, his lips had traveled as far as they could within the confines of her cheongsam. Confidently, he undid the buttons and slid the dress up and off her.
When she was eighteen, twenty-one, twenty-four and so on, she’d lie in bed and wonder what it would be like to make love with Jin. To taste his kisses. To feel his strength possessing her. His weight on her. His whispers in her ear.
Fantasies were one thing, but to know him in the flesh was quite another. It was infinitely more magnificent than anything she could have ever conjured in her mind. The passion gave urgency to their coupling. Yet they were able to take their time, to explore the bodies they’d never shared with each other in quite that way.
They taught each other touches both unspeakably tender and savagely intense. His every stroke, every sound, every move filling her to the brim with the life force that only he could. It was what she’d been waiting for, for as long as she could remember.
Jin brought her to the brink of ecstasy then pulled back, over and over again until she was desperate to cross over. When they had let go together, it was with an otherworldly white heat that carried them through the galaxies in each other’s arms.
Standing beside him now, Mimi was half on the ground and half still soaring, untethered, in that other solar system he’d shown
her.
Later, after the parade had passed by, the foursome returned to the apartment for the feast they’d planned.
“Here, Aaron.” Mamabai handed him a red envelope.
“We’re grown up now, you don’t have to do this anymore,” he replied and gave her a sweet hug.
Mimi glanced over to Jin who was reaching the top shelf of the cabinet for the gold-rimmed dishes the Zhangs used on special occasions.
What was going through his mind, Mimi wondered? Was he daring to have the same thoughts that she was? That them, together, for real, at last, felt so right? As if the moment in time was there just waiting for them to arrive at it. It was a slow journey but they’d finally made their way through the darkness to the end.
Mimi had lived for thirteen years in doubt that it would ever happen. She had had to watch her parents die, she had had to be hurt by Gunnar, she had had to see Jin marry and then suffer the agony of divorce. Had all roads led to this crossing, one they were finally ready for?
Could that be what he was thinking, too?
When the food was ready, Jin carried a steaming soup bowl to the table. Mimi dished up the long-life noodles, a customary New Year’s food so named because they were said to symbolize longevity.
“These noodles really are so long,” Aaron joked as he worked to capture them in his soup.
“You mustn’t cut them,” Bai reminded them, even though they already knew. “That would be to cut your life short.”
“To long life.” Jin toasted with his tea, tipping his cup toward Mimi and winking at her. Her stomach fluttered at the way he looked at her. Like they were together.
Together together.
“This year we celebrate Mimi and Jin. To a healthy and blessed life.” Bai raised her cup to the middle of the table.
The other three brought their cups to meet Bai’s toast but then retreated, each experiencing a moment of caution at the toast that was, in reality, a falsehood.
“Let me have another dumpling.” Jin pointed with his chopsticks toward the serving plate next to Mimi.
His Convenient New York Bride Page 10