“When did you have in mind?”
“How about tomorrow?”
“Sunday?”
“Too soon?”
“No, it’s not that. I just have a lot going on tomorrow. Can we touch base in the morning?”
“As long as you promise to answer my text.”
I placed my palms together in gassho and offered a slight bow. “You have my word.”
“I’ll hold you to this.” He covered my hands with his own. “You still want that water?”
“Yes, please. And food. Lots and lots of food.”
“Then we’ll station ourselves at the kitchen door and eat two of everything that emerges. And if that’s not enough, we’ll decimate the cheese table.” He held out his arm. “Shall we?”
I entwined my arm in his and smiled. “Lead on, Mr. Kwok.”
Before we had taken three steps, Ma came up behind us. She had escorted Mr. Leong to the town car, and looked tense and drained.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
Ma winced. “Do I have time to feel otherwise?”
“I supposed not.”
“Then let’s get back to this party, see that everyone has a lovely time, then shoo them the hell out of my house.”
My mother had cursed. The typhoon had begun.
She nodded at Daniel. “Sorry to interrupt. You two have a lovely time.”
“We won’t stay long,” he promised.
She winked. “See? It’s working already.”
Chapter
Thirty-Two
It took longer for the party to die down than Ma had intended, but with Gung-Gung and Po-Po off to bed, she didn’t seem to mind. Baba worked his magic Ma relaxed, and all of her guests had a marvelous time—especially Daniel and me.
We were standing in the garden, admiring Baba’s stone waterfall when Daniel brushed the hair from my eyes and let his fingertips linger on my cheek. “Are you sure you want to leave?”
“It’s getting late, and I have a lot to do in the morning if I’m going to meet you for lunch.”
He brightened up. “Then we’re on?”
“I’ll try to make it work.”
“Fair enough. Shall I walk you out?”
“No thanks. I have some things to take care of before I go. But if you want to earn points with Ma, see if you can coax these people out the door. She’s putting up a good front, but I think she’s about done.”
“Happy to help.”
He leaned in and paused, as if waiting for me to meet him for a kiss. I wanted to, but the inches between our lips seemed impossibly far. He smiled and touched his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes and breathed him in.
“Tomorrow?” he whispered.
“Mm-hmm.”
When he pulled away, the cool air night’s air tickled the spot where his forehead had touched mine. Then, his lips covered it with a kiss.
“Tomorrow.”
I nodded, too giddy to speak.
He glanced at the last of the mingling guests and smiled. “Time to earn those points.”
I watched as Daniel glided into conversation with the nearest guests. He insinuated himself with an open smile and an easy laugh. Within seconds, they had accepted him as one of their own. I hoped I’d be able to do the same with the girls on The Blade.
I hurried into the house to say goodbye to my parents and found Baba in the kitchen making sure everything in his domain was put back to right. With a final word to the caterers, he came over to give me a hug.
“You leaving, Dumpling?”
“Unless you need me to help.”
“Nah. Don’t be silly. Your mother has everything covered. I’m just doing what I do.”
I kissed his cheek. “Of course you are.”
He caught my hand before I could leave. “And what about you, Dumpling? Are you doing what you do?”
I chuckled and sighed. How like my father to ask this question as I was headed into danger?
I squeezed his hand. “I’m on a case. But I’ll be careful.”
He tipped his head. “Mmm…I wish I could believe that. But your idea of careful is…well, not very careful at all.”
I fixed him with a stern look. “This is why I never told you. I didn’t want you to worry.”
“But here’s thing—I’ve always worried about you, even before I knew the truth. How not, with all the cuts and bruises, the late nights and the secrecy. Your sister’s death hit all of us so hard. But with you?” He shook his head, at a loss for how to explain.
“I became a different person?”
He took a breath. “Not entirely different. But you have changed.”
“I know. Do you miss the daughter I used to be?”
He shrugged. “A little. Mostly, I miss spending time with the daughter you are now.”
I wrapped my arms around him and rested my face against his chest. “Let’s remedy that, soon, when I’m done with this job. We could head out before dawn and fish at Echo Park Lake. Catch a couple trout for breakfast? What do you think?”
He sniffed back his tears and hugged me tight. “I think we’d be in the middle of the butter’s eye.”
“Yep,” I said, breathing in the love. “I think so too.”
“Think what?” Ma asked, as she entered the kitchen.
Baba gave me a final squeeze then opened his arms to her. “That your party was a smashing success.”
Ma grimaced. “But Mr. Leong…”
“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “That was Gung-Gung’s doing. Besides, you were so gracious. He’ll be indebted to you for easing his embarrassment.”
“See, Vi? Your daughter agrees.”
Ma shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. But I’m not looking forward to breakfast.” She looked at me. “I don’t suppose you’d like to spend the night?”
“I wish I could, but…”
“You probably have a dozen things to do.”
“It’s not that, I’m just…”
“She’s working on an assignment,” Baba said, coming to my rescue. “A job, for one of her clients.”
“Oh?”
“Yep. On a deadline. I’ll be working through the night.”
Baba glanced at me, alarmed. “All night?”
I patted his arm. “Don’t worry. I won’t work too hard, and I’ll get some sleep. After all, I want to look good for tomorrow.” I smiled at Ma. “I’m meeting Daniel for lunch.”
“No.”
“Yep.”
She raised her brows and fought to contain her excitement. “Well…that sounds lovely.”
I laughed at the understatement. “He’s on the patio, charming your guests into leaving. I’d help, but I really have to run.”
Ma slipped her arm in Baba’s and shooed me toward the main part of the house. “Go ahead, Lily. Have my driver take you home. The sooner you work, the sooner you’ll sleep, and the better you’ll look for your date.”
“Thanks, Ma. Happy birthday. It was a wonderful party.”
I kissed her on the cheek and hurried to her office where I had stashed my backpack. Once retrieved, I snuck out the side corridor. The house had a service room between Ma’s office and the garage with a long counter, wash basin, and bathroom. I used this area to change into my disguise. When I had everything just right, I opened the garage door, hit the return, and leaped over the sensor so I wouldn’t stop the door’s descent.
The town car driver watched my approach with puzzlement. I was dressed in the same outfit I had worn the night before—deep-V tee, shorty shorts, blond wig, denim patrol cap, ankle-high flat boots.
“I’m heading to a costume party. My mother said you wouldn’t mind driving me there.”
“Oh, right,” he said, with a chuckle. “Where do you want to go.”
“Compton.”
He sputtered. “Excuse me?”
“East Greenleaf and Long Beach Boulevard. Take the 710, exit eleven. I’ll direct you from there.” I smiled sweetly and hopped in the car.
He drove the twenty-six miles in silence, which suited me just fine. Ma’s party had given me a lot to think about, beginning with Gung-Gung’s horrible behavior. I’d never seen my grandfather this defensive. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was scared. But of what? Losing his stature? Growing old? Being replaced by Ma? I could understand his concern, but was it really enough to explain the way he baited Mr. Leong?
Or was Gung-Gung just an old man in a strange place who couldn’t hold his liquor?
And then there was Daniel.
I gnawed on my lip, remembering the heat of his body and the soft pressure of his lips on my forehead. Why hadn’t I kissed him when I had the chance?
“Because you’re chicken.”
“Excuse me?” the driver asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking back on the food. My mother throws a great party.”
“Yes, it seemed like it. That one guest couldn’t stop talking about it.”
“Mr. Leong?”
“Mm-hmm. That’s the one. He said your mother was a gracious and ‘forgiving’ hostess, whatever that meant.”
I smiled. At least, that part of the evening had worked itself out. If only I could have stayed with Daniel. Heat flushed up my neck, as I thought of all that might have happened, then I covered my eyes with my hand. There was no hiding from myself. In the middle of family angst, vengeful gangsters, and missing teens, I had the hots for a guy.
“You can drop me over there,” I said to the driver, indicating a side road off of Long Beach Boulevard. East Greenleaf was a mile south of where I had run into the gangbangers the night before. Not only did I want to avoid a repeat of that altercation, I wanted to walk a new section of The Blade.
“This is a rough neighborhood. You sure this is where you want to be?”
He eyed my wig and costume with concern, probably wondering if my mother knew what her daughter really did at night.
“I’ll be fine. My friend’s throwing an anime party, and I’m running late. But thank you. It’s kind of you to worry.”
He chuckled with relief. “Oh, that’s good. Well, have fun. The Pikachu backpack is a nice touch.”
“Thanks. I just wrapped it in a T-shirt I bought in Hollywood. It’s my friend’s favorite Pokemón.”
“My kid’s, too.”
I got out of the car, pulled down the hem of my shorts, and headed up the driveway of the nearest house. When the driver left, I hurried back to the sidewalk and headed for The Blade.
Streetwalkers didn’t usually wear backpacks, but since I couldn’t I risk stashing it, I had decided to dress up the pack and use it as a prop. Emma was seventeen, which meant Manolo trafficked underage girls. I couldn’t pass for a minor, but maybe I could appeal to the same clientele. Regardless, if my butt was on the line, I wanted my bag of tricks close at hand.
It didn’t take long to see women, alone or in pairs, loitering on the boulevard. But tonight, I decided to try a different approach. Instead of striking up conversations with the girls, I strolled up the track trolling for pimps. A few minutes later, a metallic blue Caddie turned in the middle of the street and cruised up beside me.
“That’s some premium ass you’re strutting. Who you with?”
I kept walking without so much as a shrug of a response.
“Come on, baby, don’t be all cold like that. Show me your face. I bet you fine.”
I glanced at the driver, noted his ethnicity, and kept walking. The black, heavy-set man didn’t match Josie’s Rico Suave description.
“Yo, bitch! You hear what I say? Turn your cheap ass around and look at Cash when he’s talking to you.”
Although I hated leaving a threat behind me, I didn’t want to be perceived as recklessly eyeballing another pimp. If Cash decided I was choosing up, he’d take me for his own. If I actually had a pimp, he could buy me back, but it would cost him dearly, and he’d work me twice as hard to make up for the loss.
I cringed at the ease with which I had adopted my persona. Work me? Candy’s lingo was getting a little too comfortable for my liking.
I unclipped my karambit and palmed it in my hand, ready to unleash ninja hell on this guy if he made a move on me.
“Fuck your skanky ass. You’d only drag my bitches down.”
He peeled away from the curb and U-turned down the boulevard. I exhaled with relief, slipped my hand under my shirt, and re-clipped the knife to my waistband. Trolling for pimps might not have been the best of ideas.
Up ahead, three young women bickered at the corner. The taller one caught my eye—tall, white, with long straight hair. It was hard to tell at night under the dim glow of the street lamp, but I was almost positive that the black girl yelling at her was Dolla, the high school recruiter for Cut & Ink.
“I’m bottom,” Dolla yelled. “Not you. You feel me, Cheeks? Because I got a fist full of whoop ass if you don’t.”
Cheeks, who was decidedly blonde and not Emma, backed away from Dolla. “Whatever. Just get out of my face.”
The third girl—way too young to be called a woman—stood her ground. She glared up at Dolla like a spunky Chihuahua barking at a Doberman. “Why are you always such a bitch?”
Dolla grabbed her by the bra strap and raised the Latina girl onto her toes. “And why are you such a fucking princess?”
The girl knocked Dolla’s hand off her top. “Jealous much? I don’t see him calling you Princesa, and he never will. You know why? Because you’re old. You can be bottom all you want, but all Dolla’s good for is bringing in the bank. Everyone knows Princesa gets the prince.”
“You little—”
“Hey,” I said, stepping in before Dolla slapped the girl across the face. “I know you.”
She turned and checked me out from patrol cap to boots. “Well, I don’t know you.” She turned back to Princesa, hand up and ready to slap, but the girl had joined Cheeks at the street corner.
“I’m serious. I think we know each other.”
Dolla whirled on me. “What is your problem?”
As she reached to grab my shirt, I turned my shoulders and knocked her hand off course. “Just trying to be nice.”
Bullies pissed me off. So when she reached again, I rapped the back of her hand with my knuckles. Dolla cradled her hand and tried not to let on how much it had hurt. The slightest rap of the knuckles caused a disproportionate amount of pain, especially when struck into nerves or parts of the body with little or no padding.
“Look, bitch. I don’t know who you are, but you don’t belong here.”
“I don’t know. Seems like a pretty good spot to me.” I challenged her with my eyes, baiting her to attack. Bullies like Dolla needed to be taught a lesson, and I was more than happy to give this one for free.
I glanced down her body as if finding it in sad shape. “I remember now. You went to my school—when you were younger.”
And that’s all it took.
I could have deflected Dolla’s punch, but after the way she lured Sharelle into prostitution, I wanted to hurt her. Instead, I extended my arm to steer her punch off course and continued the movement to ram my fist straight up under her nose. Blood spurt. Dolla cursed. I smiled—which infuriated her even more.
When she attacked again, I let her grab my shoulders, partly as a tease and partly to see what she would do. When I felt the push-pull on my shoulders, I knew what she had in mind. The girl knew how to fight, I’d give her that, but I wasn’t in the mood to play. She had brought suffering to others, it was only fair that someone brought suffering to her.
As she whipped me around for a rear choke hold, I sped up my rotation and elbowed her in the temple. She released her grip and swayed on her feet. I caught the inside of her collar and a handful of her shirt then twisted and pulled to trap her neck in a painful Gy
aku Jime choke. The pressure of my knuckles digging into one side of her neck and the pulled shirt cutting into the other restricted her blood flow and air. But rather than attack with kicks and strikes, she did what most inexperienced fighters would do, she clawed at my hands.
I let her flounder for a moment, then—not wanting to inflict any lasting damage—released the choke and shoved her back.
That’s when I saw the tattoo.
My grabbing and pulling had stretched the collar of her shirt and exposed the top of her left breast where black ink marred her beautiful skin. The words made me gasp.
Manolo’s Bitch.
I held out my hands in peaceful surrender. I’d just beaten the crap out of the one person who could lead me to Manolo. Even worse, I’d done it in front of her girls.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fight. I thought I knew you, is all. My bad. Do over?”
Dolla seethed as she straightened her mangled shirt. “Get off my fucking track.”
There wasn’t any point in arguing. I had alienated Manolo’s head prostitute—the bottom who recruited new prospects and kept the others in line. No doubt, he was the same sexy Latino man in the muscle car who’d given Dolla and Ana Lucía a ride from Paco’s Tacos. Dolla had called that man Manuel, and all this time, I hadn’t considered the nickname. Like Johnny to Jonathan or Dick to Richard, Manolo was a nickname for Manuel.
I crossed the street and headed back toward Greenleaf Boulevard. I’d already stuck my foot in a hot mess, any further attempts would sink me deeper. Still, the night wasn’t a total loss: Dolla worked for Manolo, and I knew where Dolla lived. Whether she wanted to help me or not, I’d follow the bottom straight to the top.
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