by Diana Ma
I’m obsessively watching videos of Alyssa on Eric’s phone, which has the Weibo app. Worrying my lip in concentration, I analyze her walk, her smile, her every little mannerism. “Hello, everyone!” I repeat over and over again. It’s not just a matter of making my voice higher and breathier. Alyssa’s accent when she’s speaking English is subtle and hard to nail, so I have to practice saying the l in “hello” with a light r the way Alyssa does.
Eric doesn’t interrupt me as I practice speaking like Alyssa.
At last, I feel I’ve gotten it. I scroll through Weibo again to study her facial expressions. I can’t help but notice how many of the pictures posted have a certain pixie-haired girl in the background. Mimi.
Silently, I put Eric’s phone back onto its stand.
Now that I’m not actively preparing for a role, my body grows jittery, and my fingers twist compulsively in my lap. This was my idea, but I’m getting more nervous the closer we get to Songbird Nightclub. What if Alyssa doesn’t take the bait? Or what if baiting her like this makes her angry and drives her farther underground? Then I’ll never get any answers about my mother. Not true. It just means that I’ll have to get answers about my mother from my mother. Except hell will freeze over before that will happen.
“Hey,” Eric says, “you’ve gotten quiet over there. Are you having second thoughts?”
“No.” I bite my lower lip. “I just hope this works.”
“So do I.” He takes one hand off the wheel and places it briefly on my knee.
I stare out the window as the car pulls up to the curb in front of a sleekly dark building. Unlike Alyssa’s selective nightclub, this one has a long line of people snaking out along the sidewalk. I can see why Eric thought we’d have a better chance here leaking the scandalous news that Alyssa is out and about with Eric. And with any luck, Alyssa will take notice.
A valet in a smart uniform comes out to greet us, and Eric hands the keys to him.
Then Eric comes around to open the door for me. “Ready?”
“Give me just a minute.” Taking a deep breath, I give myself a little talk. You are a glamorous celebrity. Those people out there are your fans. You live for their attention. This is who you are. “OK. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
I take the hand Eric offers me to help me out of the car, and as I pivot around to face the crowd in line, I flash the widest, most dazzling smile I can imagine and wave Alyssa’s patented little two-fingered wave. “Hello, everyone!”
Heads swivel, and the all-too-familiar phrase of “Shi ta!”—“It’s her!”—spreads like wildfire among the crowd.
“If I didn’t know better,” Eric whispers, “I’d think you were Alyssa.”
“Convincing?” I murmur coyly, lowering my eyes the way Alyssa would.
He swallows. “Unnerving.”
Blinding light hits my eyes as flashes go off everywhere, accompanied by the snapping of cameras. Through it all, I keep waving as Eric leads me to the head of the line. I smile as I see at least a couple of people pause to upload their pictures. In a matter of seconds, Weibo will light up with an Alyssa and Eric sighting. If that doesn’t set the bait, I don’t know what will. At the door, the two bodyguards don’t even check a list. They greet me as Chua xiao jie, which would be “Miss Chua” in English, and let us in at once. Inside, the nightclub is much more crowded, less swanky, and hipper than Alyssa’s nightclub. There are colored lights overhead, making it seem like we’re inside some huge laser tag arena. But the people are holding cocktails instead of laser blasters and wearing Chanel and Gucci instead of brightly colored vests.
Two of those designer clothes–clad people start to approach me, their eyes lit up with the familiar excitement of an Alyssa-fan, but Eric shakes his head at them. To my surprise, they back off. I guess the nightclub clientele is too hip and cool to accost me the way other fans have. Then Eric puts his arm around my shoulders, and his body is so warm and solid by my side that I forget that I’m supposed to be Alyssa and melt into him.
But the heads turning in our direction snap me out of the intoxicating haze of Eric’s nearness. No one takes pictures of us, but a few people cast excited glances in our direction and start texting furiously. We retreat into the shadowed corner with a table for two.
In my normal voice, I say, “I guess it doesn’t take much to start a relationship rumor.”
“Yup. Everyone will think that I’ve become one of Alyssa’s many lovesick admirers.” Except Eric’s too worried about Mimi to look at all lovesick. “Good thing my nai nai isn’t on Weibo.” He looks even more worried at that thought.
“Keep up the act,” I remind him. “You’re supposed to be out for a fun night on the town with Alyssa Chua. You’re not supposed to look like you’re about to murder someone.”
“This is how I’d look if I were out with Alyssa.”
“Then pretend you’re out with me,” I say daringly.
Eric gazes at me somberly. “Out with Gemma Huang, who’s leaving in a month?”
A charged silence stretches out between us. “Since we’re pretending,” I say, breath catching in my throat, “let’s pretend away that I’m leaving. Pretend away our family secrets and histories.”
“No secret pasts,” he agrees, his face softening. “And no leaving the country soon.”
Before I can respond, a waiter appears at our table with a bottle of Moët and two champagne flutes.
Eric talks to the waiter in Chinese, casually eliciting the information that this is Alyssa’s standing order. I keep quiet, not wanting to blow my cover with my atrocious Chinese.
With a bow to me, the waiter sets the bottle and flutes down on the table with a flourish and whisks himself away.
“Being Alyssa has some advantages,” Eric remarks, holding up the bottle to peer at the gold label.
I already have an almost-full bottle of Moët from Alyssa in my hotel suite, so without thinking, I put my hand on his wrist to stop him from popping the bottle open.
He goes still as soon as I touch him. Fire flickers in his eyes. “I can put it on my bill.” His words seem to be spoken distractedly, and the sudden hammer of his pulse shudders through my own body.
Hardly paying attention to what I’m saying, I ask, “Won’t it be expensive?”
“It’s a special occasion.”
“Then I suppose I’d better have some champagne to stay in character.” My words sound hoarse as I push them through my constricted throat. “But what are we celebrating?” My gaze shifts downward to my fingers, which are still wrapped around Eric’s wrist. I should let go. But I can’t seem to break the contact that is heating my skin to an almost painful intensity.
Eric slowly puts the bottle back down. Then he takes my free hand, sliding his thumb over the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist.
“Eric.” My voice is breathless with the effort of holding back all the promises I shouldn’t make.
Eric is leaning forward, his eyes locked on mine. All my nerves are stretched razor sharp and tight.
Then a harsh voice beside me says in English, “Miss Huang. Come with me.”
I jump about a mile in pure surprise. A large man with black bushy eyebrows is staring down at me. It’s not Alyssa’s limousine driver, but there’s no doubt who sent him. Well, that was fast. My pulse races for a completely different reason than it had just a minute before. This is what we wanted. For Alyssa to take the bait. I just hadn’t thought that meant that she would send someone to literally take the bait—as in taking me.
For a breathless moment, I gape up at the man. Then I notice that the waiter and a busser are nearby. I still need to impersonate Alyssa convincingly in case they’re listening—make them forget that they heard the driver call me “Miss Huang” instead of “Miss Chua.” I’m not an American tourist totally out of her element. I’m a rich pampered socialite, and I chew up and spit out men like this every night. Alyssa’s carefree laugh trills out of me. “Loving the whole intense, mysterious
summons,” I purr, “but slow down a little, won’t you?”
Eric drops my hand and turns all his laser-like attention to the man. In Chinese, he demands to know what the man wants with me.
The man ignores Eric and says to me, “Please come with me.” His flat, unfriendly voice is in sharp contrast to the politeness of his request.
Eric stays where he is and turns to me. “What do you want to do?” He gives me a searching look as if he’s trying to tell me that we don’t have to go with this scary, mysterious man.
Leaving the relative safety of Songbird Nightclub was never part of the plan, so I get why Eric has cold feet.
But there’s no question in my mind of passing up this chance to find Alyssa and Mimi. With a flippancy that would have done Alyssa proud, I smile ruefully at Eric. “I guess we won’t be having that champagne after all.”
As the strange man leads us out of the club, Eric takes the opportunity to whisper in my ear, “You don’t have to do this!”
“Of course I do,” I whisper back with a certainty I’m far from feeling. “It’s the only way to get the answers we both need.”
Outside the club, the line of people is as long as ever. Since the trap has already been sprung, I don’t wave or call out to draw attention this time. Still, some people turn to look at me. After all, being accompanied by a big dude with a ferocious grimace on his face doesn’t exactly make me inconspicuous.
Our escort ignores the people yelling Alyssa’s name and leads Eric and me to a long black car with dark windows parked at the curb. A valet waits at attention by the car and hands the man the keys immediately. The driver opens the back door, and I duck into the leather upholstered back seat. Eric is quick to slide in after me. Our driver slams the door shut with a loud finality that makes me start, and then gets into the front seat.
I can see the crowd in line at the nightclub wave and call out to me, but I can’t hear anything. All I can see are their mouths moving and the fanatic gleam in their eyes as the cameras go off. Along with having darkened windows, the car is apparently also soundproof. There’s clear glass between the front and back seats. Since I can’t hear the driver’s movements, I’m sure it’s soundproofed too.
“So, we’re doing this?” Eric speaks at a normal volume, so he must have come to the same conclusion about the soundproof barrier. The worry lines in his face are more pronounced than ever.
The driver pulls away from the curb, and the excited crowd recedes into the distance. It’s not a good sign when I actually miss the protection that a hundred camera-happy fans might provide us. But I don’t let anxiety leak into my voice. “We’re doing this.”
Eric doesn’t reply, but he takes my hand in his. This time, no sparks ignite between us. We’re each too focused on the unknown destination we’re hurtling toward. And the confrontation that waits for each of us. Still, the heavy warmth of his hand enveloping mine helps slow the erratic beat of my heart.
We maintain our tense silence as the car exits the highway half an hour later.
My hands grow cold and damp as we barrel along dimly lit streets somewhere in the suburbs of Beijing. After another half an hour or so, the car turns onto a street lined with trees and manicured hedges. I crane my neck forward, and Eric’s doing the same thing. It looks like we’re in a wealthy suburban neighborhood.
The car slows as we approach a gated mansion of warm terracotta and blazing lights in the windows. As we get closer, an actual frigging peacock saunters up to the black wrought-iron gate. The driver pulls up to an intercom by the gate and has a conversation with someone that we can’t hear.
This is it. If I have to, this time I’ll literally sit on Alyssa until she coughs up the answers I need.
The gate slowly swings open.
We pass through the gate and go up the driveway until the car comes to a stop right at the bottom step of the mansion. The driver gets out and opens the back door.
With mounting anticipation, I climb out of the car, and Eric follows. Without a word, the big man leads the way up the stairs to a dark wooden door. He unlocks and opens the door, holding it ajar and ushering us inside.
I find myself in a foyer lined by carved rosewood benches with black silk cushions embroidered with golden dragons. Graceful urns of bamboo flank the doors, and the floor is pure white marble.
My heart is pounding so hard that my rib cage hurts. Our driver tells us to wait in the echoing marble foyer and disappears down a dark hall.
“Now what?” I ask.
Eric’s face is tight with tension. “I’m not sure.”
After that, there doesn’t seem to be much left to say. In a silence so taut that it seems like it will shatter any second, we wait.
In actuality, the silence doesn’t shatter so much as it’s punctured. By the quick staccato of heeled footsteps. Angry footsteps.
In a silk bathrobe and fluffy, heeled mules, Alyssa Chua bursts into the foyer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Why is the ever-chic Alyssa greeting us in a robe and slippers? Granted, her loungewear is fancier than my typical street clothes, but still . . . She was expecting us.
Except that Alyssa’s face is rigid with shock. “Gemma!”
I don’t know how she forgot that she sent a car for me, but I haven’t forgotten why I’m here. “You promised me answers about my mom, remember?”
“Right.” The surprise slowly melts from her face. “We just needed—”
“WE?” Eric demands. “Where’s Mimi?”
Alyssa aims a death glare at him.
More footsteps echo in the dark hallway. “Eric? Do I hear your voice?” Then Mimi, wearing a silk robe that matches Alyssa’s, appears in the foyer.
“Mimi!” Eric’s face goes slack with relief. “Are you OK?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mimi walks over to Alyssa and puts an arm around her.
Oh no. We haven’t stumbled into a love nest, have we? Then I remember Alyssa’s odd surprise at our presence. Are we intruding on a love nest? My face flames up in mortification. That would be seriously awkward.
“I had no idea what had happened to you!” Eric says. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? You wouldn’t even answer my calls or my texts!”
“It was my fault,” Alyssa says, and when Mimi turns to her, Alyssa’s voice softens. “Mimi, you know you would never have given me that ultimatum if I weren’t behaving like an idiot.”
“What ultimatum?” Eric asks.
I step forward and whisper into his ear, “Just listen.” I’m still confused about the how part, but we’ve obviously just crashed Mimi and Alyssa’s romantic retreat. There’s no way to spin that as a good thing. So the least we can do is shut up and listen.
Mimi speaks up, answering Eric’s question. “I told Alyssa that she had to stop pretending that she’s someone she’s not.”
Alyssa lays her head on Mimi’s shoulder, and images of Alyssa and Mimi at the club flash through my brain. Alyssa flirting with two men, and Mimi’s tense face. And the fear that appeared on Alyssa’s face when Mimi whispered something into her ear. The ultimatum.
Mimi gently strokes Alyssa’s hair. “I told her that we’re over if she can’t make space for me. For once, I wanted it just to be the two of us. I wanted time away from her entourage and Weibo posts.” She addresses Alyssa then. “It was wearing you out—playing the part of a celebrity party girl.”
“Playing the part of a celebrity party girl?” Eric echoes in a dumbfounded way.
They both ignore him. “You also didn’t love how I flirted with every guy in sight,” Alyssa mumbles into Mimi’s shoulder.
Mimi’s lips tighten. “You’re right. I didn’t.”
“But why didn’t you tell me, Mimi?” Eric bursts out, the hurt evident in his voice. “You used to tell me everything!”
Mimi stiffens. “Why would I tell you anything? It was clear that you didn’t like Alyssa. And you kept going on about how our families have been enemies forever.”
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“I was just worried about you!”
Maybe it’s time I interrupt before he says something he regrets. “Eric,” I say, “Mimi doesn’t need your protection.”
He swivels to stare at me.
I think of every time Eric’s been there for me, paying attention to whatever I have to say. He’ll listen to me now. “Remember when you told me how proud you are of everything that Mimi has done? That’s what she needs to hear now.” Don’t blow this, Eric.
Eric’s eyes dart between Mimi and me. “You’re absolutely right.”
Relief pierces me. I should’ve had more faith. Eric’s not the kind of guy who blusters and gets defensive when he’s in the wrong. He’s the kind of guy who will do anything for the people he cares about.
He steps forward and envelops Mimi in a hug. “I’m so sorry. Ever since I came home, I’ve been trying to save you, when you never needed saving at all. You’re doing amazing things with your life, and I’m so in awe of you. For everything you are.”
Mimi sniffles and hugs Eric back. Alyssa glances away uncomfortably and backs off a bit, giving the siblings some room.
I feel like I’m intruding all over again. A hot emotion stings the backs of my eyes. As an only child, I can’t imagine the kind of closeness Eric and Mimi have. Alyssa and I exchange glances, and she has an odd expression on her face—a mixture of confusion and wistfulness. She’s an only child too.
Sheepishly, Eric says, “I know I made assumptions about Alyssa. It should have been enough for me that you liked her.”
“More than like,” Mimi says, though it’s clear she’s softening toward her brother. “Love.”
Without hesitation, Eric says, “Then I’ll learn to love her too.” He turns to Alyssa. “I’m sorry about misjudging you. My sister loves you, and that’s enough for me.”