by Diana Ma
In the bathroom, I see myself in the mirror and grimace. My eyes are swollen from crying, and my face is all blotchy and red with strands of hair sticking to my sweaty forehead. Good thing that my only plans tonight are with my jetted tub and my bed.
Just as I’m pouring the bath salts in, I hear a knock at the door. Am I so depressed that I ordered room service and forgot? Then I remember. Oh crap. I’m supposed to go out with Eric tonight.
Quickly, I turn off the jets and run to the door. At least I’m fully clothed—in sweats, but still better than a bathrobe. I’m just going to have to apologize and explain that I’m in no mood to hang out.
But when I open the door, Eric is standing there, pale and wild-eyed.
“Eric! What’s wrong?” Worried, I pull him into my hotel suite.
His eyes sharpen on me. “I could ask you the same thing. What happened to you?”
Right. My tearstained face is a dead giveaway to my state of mind. “You first.”
Eric leads me to the couch and sits down with me. “I’m not going to barge into your hotel room and launch into my troubles. Not when you’ve clearly got troubles of your own,” he says. “Now, tell me what happened.” Then his gaze shifts beyond me and wanders over the lavish suite.
“You’re wondering if Alyssa is responsible for this suite. Well, she is.” My stomach tenses as I wait for his reaction.
“I figured that out when the hotel receptionist directed me to the penthouse suite,” he says calmly. “Gemma, you don’t owe me an explanation. But something has clearly happened to upset you, and I can listen if you want.”
The urge to unburden my troubles to Eric is too much to resist. I find myself telling him about the disastrous shoot. Guilt about lying to my parents. Even what Ken said about Eilene.
Through it all, Eric listens with his head craned forward as if he wants to catch every word. His eyes stay on me the whole time, and he doesn’t interrupt.
When I’m done, he shakes his head in disbelief. “How are you still upright? I’d be facedown in bed right now.”
I smile weakly and don’t tell him about the rose-scented water slowly cooling in the jetted tub. “If you’d gotten here a little later, that’s where I’d be.” My smile gets a little steadier. “But since you’re here now, do you happen to have any words of wisdom for me?”
“I do,” Eric says firmly. “First, your ex-boyfriend is an asshole, so ignore everything he said. Second, your director is also an asshole, so ignore everything he said too.” I laugh, and he continues. “The people you might want to listen to are Eilene and your roommates. Eilene is right. What happened at the shoot isn’t your fault.”
I start to protest, but Eric says, “Nope. Not your fault. Nothing you say can convince me otherwise. And I would guess that Eilene feels the same way.”
I sigh. “That was before I totally blew it.”
Eric reaches out to grip my hand. “You’re way too hard on yourself.”
In a shaky voice, I confess, “I told Jake I’d play my character however he wants me to.”
“Listen to me, Gemma, everyone makes mistakes. But you’re a smart, talented, strong woman. Eilene told you to trust in yourself, and I think that’s good advice.”
Against all odds, I’m starting to feel better. Like maybe I can fix my mistakes. Then I remember my other problem. “You said I might want to listen to my roommates too. Does that mean you think they’re right? That I should tell my parents I’m in Beijing?”
“That’s up to you. But your family might worry if they think you’re keeping secrets from them.” Eric’s eyes get a distant expression, and I get the feeling that he’s not talking about me and my family anymore.
He came here tonight for a reason, and it wasn’t to listen to my problems. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Mimi?”
Eric nods miserably. “No one in our family has seen or talked to her in nearly a week.”
Anxiety flickers in me. “I take it that she didn’t return your phone call—”
“Calls,” he corrects me. “And I wouldn’t be so worried if that were the only thing, but it’s not.” His face creases into a frown. “One of our store managers called me today. Mimi was supposed to come in to do a special fitting of a custom-designed dress. And she never showed. Never called. Nothing. If there’s one thing Mimi takes seriously, it’s her job as a fashion designer. She wouldn’t just not show up with no word unless something’s wrong.”
My heart drops at his words. If Mimi’s job matters as much to her as mine does to me, then Eric is right. Something’s wrong.
I don’t want to ask this question, but I do anyway. “Did you call hospitals?”
Eric stands up and starts to pace. “Every hospital in the city. She’s not there. Thankfully.”
“Good.” My breathing eases a little.
“And here’s another thing I’m worried about.” He comes to a stop in front of my chair. “Alyssa was the client that Mimi was supposed to do a fitting for. And Alyssa didn’t show up either.”
“Did you call Alyssa? Maybe she knows where Mimi is.”
“I don’t have Alyssa’s phone number.” Eric’s shoulders tense up before my eyes.
It would have been nice if Alyssa had put her phone number on one of those pink notes, I think glumly. “Is there anyone else you can call? Anyone who knows Alyssa?”
“Everyone knows Alyssa.” Eric pulls out his phone. “And no one really knows her.”
Unexpectedly, a twinge of sympathy for Alyssa hits me—it would be hard to be so famous and so unknown at the same time.
“Mimi is one of the few people who actually has Alyssa’s phone number,” Eric says. “Everyone else just follows her on Weibo. Which is what I did to try to find her. Alyssa leaves a trail on Weibo of all the hot spots she goes to.” He opens up an app on his phone and hands it to me. “She posted two different pictures today, and I spent all day trying to track her based on those photos.”
Of course Weibo is in Chinese, but the pictures of Alyssa don’t need any text. In one photo, she’s sipping bubble tea on an outdoor patio. In the other, she’s taking a stroll in a garden, arm in arm with an attractive guy. “Did you figure out where these were taken?”
“I spent all damn day going to every bubble tea shop in the city. I even tried to figure out which one of her many admirers the guy in the second picture is.” He rakes a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t until about an hour ago that I realized the truth.”
“Truth?” The way Eric is talking ratchets up my worry.
Eric takes his phone from me and scrolls back for a long time. When he hands the phone to me again, I see the same picture of Alyssa sipping pale green bubble tea in a red flared dress that matches her lipstick. It’s an arresting image and unmistakably the same photo as the one Eric showed me before.
“When was this one posted?” I ask with an anticipatory catch in my voice.
“About a year ago,” he says tersely. “The one with the guy was also first posted around a year ago.” He scrolls through Alyssa’s posts. “Alyssa hasn’t posted a recent picture on Weibo in a week.”
Since the night she gave me a ride to my hotel in her limo. Ice forms at the base of my spine. “Why would Alyssa repost old photos of herself?”
“She wouldn’t,” Eric says. “But someone else might be reposting Alyssa’s pictures. Someone who doesn’t want people to suspect that Alyssa’s missing.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Alyssa is the type of person who could get mixed up in something dangerous. Like I said, she’s always chasing the new big thrill. Drugs or gambling—who knows what Alyssa could be involved in? And whatever it is,” Eric says, his face pale and tense, “she’s dragged my little sister into the thick of it.”
It’s a struggle to keep my expression neutral in the face of this wild accusation, but I know better than to suggest that Eric’s overreacting, so I manage to make my voice even. “You think Alyssa is invol
ved in drugs or gambling? And that, ah, she’s gone on the run?”
Luckily, hearing his own theory repeated back to him seems to bring Eric to his senses. He gives me a rueful look. “Maybe not. But I just can’t imagine why both Mimi and Alyssa would disappear.”
“I have an idea about that.” Except that it’s even wilder than Eric’s drugs and gambling theory. It feels like something is squeezing the air out of my lungs.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I think Alyssa is hiding from me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“You?” Eric stares at me. “Why?”
I fill him in on the limo ride with Alyssa. “Alyssa said that she had to talk to her mother before she could tell me more about why my mom was cut off. She’s supposed to get back to me by Mid-Autumn Festival.”
“But that’s tomorrow!”
“I know. Clearly, Alyssa has changed her mind about telling me the truth about my mom.” My jaw sets. “I told her I’d come looking for her if I don’t hear from her, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Eric asks gently. “You don’t know where to find her, and neither do I.”
“We would if you could get ahold of Mimi,” I say unthinkingly, and then my eyes widen. “Do you think that’s why Mimi is with her? So we can’t find out from Mimi where she is?”
Eric stands up and starts pacing. “It makes as much sense as anything else.” Which means not at all. But just as I’m questioning my own theory, Eric is going full steam ahead. “By now, Alyssa knows that you and I are friends,” he says. “Maybe she’s convinced Mimi to go into hiding with her.”
Except . . . why would Alyssa promise to tell me the secret of my mother only to blow me off? And why would she go to the extreme of going into hiding just to avoid me? She could just tell me that she can’t reveal the reason my mom was banished. And how could she have convinced Mimi to go into hiding too? I rise from the couch.
Eric pauses in his pacing. “What is it?”
Maybe I shouldn’t poke holes into this theory of Alyssa and Mimi hiding from me. It’s a lot less worrisome than the alternatives Eric’s spinning in that brain of his. “Never mind. What were you saying?” After all, I don’t want Eric to go back to his drug and gambling suspicions.
“My parents are worried,” he says helplessly, “and if Mimi doesn’t show up for the family Mid-Autumn Festival dinner tomorrow, they’ll really freak out.”
I sink back onto the couch, a plan taking shape in my head. I may not know why Alyssa has disappeared, but I do know that I want to find her. And talk to her. “I have an idea.”
Eric sits down next to me. “Yes?”
“Alyssa’s wanted one thing from the start. To keep her grandmother from finding out about me. And you were right about her being furious about the gossip sites linking you two. What do you think would happen if ‘Alyssa’ showed up at one of her favorite spots tonight—with you?”
“I see,” he says, his expression lightening. Then his face falls. “It’s one thing to impersonate Alyssa to get into a club, but to get the kind of attention you’re talking about so Alyssa notices will take . . . more effort.”
“What kind of effort?”
“For this to work, we’d have to hit Beijing hot spots. Light up Weibo with our presence. You’d have to really pretend to be Alyssa. If Alyssa is reposting old pictures of her checking into one place while you’re impersonating her somewhere else, the inconsistencies will start to show up.” His eyes brighten. “We’ll get Alyssa’s attention all right.”
I jump to my feet. “Let me just change into something more glamorous than sweats.” I walk over to my closet and fling it open to reveal a neat row of cotton sundresses, capri pants, and comfortable T-shirts.
Eric follows me to my closet and peers over my shoulder. “Um, no offense, Gemma, but . . .”
“Nothing in my closet comes close to what Alyssa would wear?” I ask, saving him the embarrassment of saying it himself.
“Yeah.” He fingers the hem of one of the sundresses. “Don’t get me wrong, Gemma. I love your style, but if you’re going to pass for Alyssa, we’re going to have to get you some haute couture. Which, fortunately, just happens to be my line of work.”
“For the better good,” I say gravely, “I will subject myself to a glamorous makeover.”
Eric leaves to get the clothes, and while I’m waiting for him to get back, I style my hair and put on makeup, applying an extra coating of mascara. Thankfully, Liz, my makeup artist, gave me a tube of glossy red lipstick that wasn’t right for my character of Sonia, but is perfect for playing Alyssa.
Half an hour later, there’s a knock at my door, and Eric wheels in a portable clothes rack loaded with about a dozen black garment bags. But his face looks grimmer than ever, and there’s a tense set to his shoulders.
“Spit it out,” I say. “What’s wrong now?”
“I just got off the phone with my parents. After my dad told Nai Nai that he’s done funding her ‘high-society charity events’ war against the Sung/Chua family, Nai Nai decided to take the war to a new battlefield. She talked to a reporter from one of the Weibo gossip sites.” That can’t possibly be a good thing. “Nai Nai says she won’t do it again, and I think she already regrets it, but the damage is done.”
My stomach drops. “What did she say?”
“Stuff about how Alyssa dresses, showing too much skin and flirting too much.” Eric winces. “Nai Nai actually called Alyssa a . . . Well, I don’t know the English translation, but trust me, it’s not good.”
Indignation sparks in me. Did Eric’s grandmother really just slut shame Alyssa? “That’s awful!”
“I know! Nai Nai has no idea what she’s gotten herself into.” His face hardens. “Alyssa is the queen of Weibo with millions of followers. She’s going to destroy my grandmother on social media and maybe even take Mimi down.”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Heat rises up my neck. “That’s what you’re worried about? Some bogus retaliation plot by Alyssa that you’re spinning in your head? Your grandmother used a gossip site to attack my cousin!” Only then do I realize that I’m yelling. And that this might be the first time I’ve referred to Alyssa as my cousin out loud.
“Your cousin?” Eric narrows his eyes at me. “I didn’t realize you thought of Alyssa like that.”
“She is family.” Confused, I stop. Why am I defending Alyssa? This isn’t even my war.
He looks around again at the lavish furnishings and gold silk accents of my suite. “I see.”
Oh hell. Now he’s going to make some jerky comment about how Alyssa has succeeded in buying my loyalties. And he doesn’t even know about the haute couture accessories she’s lavished on me. But it’s not really about the expensive things Alyssa has given me. Somehow, I’ve developed a fondness for my cousin—who happens to be a high-society fashionista social media star. And if Eric wants to tear into me for that . . . then I guess our truce is over.
But Eric just sighs. “I don’t want to fight with you, Gemma.” He rubs his face. “Maybe I am jumping to conclusions about how Alyssa is going to react. I’m just worried about what she’s going to do to my nai nai. And to Mimi.”
I take a breath to calm down. “I don’t want to fight with you either,” I say, “but at some point you’ve got to realize that your grandmother and Mimi both made choices. Good ones or bad ones—they’re not your choices to fix.”
“That’s fair.” Eric smiles weakly. “So, do we still have an alliance? Because I have some outfits to show you if we’re still on.”
Relieved that he’s not going to be a jerk, I smile back at him. “I’m game if you are.”
Then I gape in amazement as Eric unzips each garment bag to reveal elegant jumpsuits, daring cocktail dresses, and gorgeous floor-length gowns. If I wasn’t about to embark on a plan to find my missing cousin and Eric’s missing sister, I’d be thrilled by this opportunity to try on
designer clothing. The last bag he unzips only halfway before zipping it back up again. But I catch a glimpse of what’s inside. It looks like Eric has sneaked in the black suit I’d coveted previously.
“See anything you like?” Eric asks.
“All of it,” I say promptly, but I’m pointing toward a champagne-colored minidress beaded in sparkling rhinestones. “Too much?”
“Never.” Eric takes the dress off the rack and hands it to me. “Go try it on.”
I take the dress into the bedroom and shimmy into it. It takes a few tugs before I’m able to zip it up, but when I look in the mirror, I see an incredibly glamorous woman looking back at me. It’s not just that I look like Alyssa. It’s that I don’t even look like myself anymore.
“How’s it going?” Eric calls out.
“Just a minute!” I put on the diamond chandelier earrings that Alyssa gave me and then touch the jade necklace I’m wearing indecisively. Its brilliant green doesn’t go with the outfit, but I’m reluctant to take it off. It’s the only thing I have of my mother’s inheritance. I compromise by turning the pendant around so the unknown Chinese character is hidden. There. Now there’s just a smooth jade oval visible.
Taking a deep breath, I open the bedroom door. “What do you think?”
Eric’s eyes don’t light up the way they did the other night when I came out of the dressing room wearing the suit. Instead, he looks me over critically. “You’ll pass for Alyssa easily.”
What did I expect? This isn’t the time to flirt or score points for my appearance. This is about finding Alyssa and solving the mystery of my mother’s past.
I fasten the Jimmy Choo gold heels onto my feet, taking a couple of experimental steps. I’m not about to go hiking in these heels, but they’re not as uncomfortable as I’d feared.
“OK,” I tell Eric as I pick up my Hermès clutch and sail through the door in my glittering three-inch heels. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
I thought we’d go to the nightclub Alyssa owns first, but Eric thinks it’s a bit too exclusive for our purpose. Plus, the clientele at her nightclub know Alyssa and know of my existence. They’ll be harder to fool. That’s why Eric is driving us to Songbird Nightclub instead. It’s one of Alyssa’s favorite haunts, and more importantly, it’s where she goes to be in the public eye.