by Jesse Jordan
Crossing the lobby to the reception desk, my heels click on the beautiful marble flooring, everything screaming luxury. For some strange reason, I feel right at home, and more than once I see a man’s eyes follow me as I head to the reception desk. Behind it, an employee greets me without a single doubt in their eyes that I fit in. “Yes, may I help you?”
“Thank you,” I answer, being as polite as I can. The desk staffer greeted me in English, which is one of those assumptions that annoys me. I get a moment of satisfaction when I switch into Mandarin and their eyes widen slightly in surprise. “I have an appointment. I’m supposed to meet a Mr. Kelley at eight?”
“Of… of course, miss,” the staffer stammers, obviously shaken up. “If you’ll wait just a moment.”
I wait politely, ignoring the look from the tourist who’s obviously undressing me with his eyes as he’s supposed to be checking in with his wife. I shudder, hoping that the guy I’m meeting tonight isn’t like this creep, before a thought hits me. What if it’s not a guy? Sure, the odds are low, but…
My nervousness increases when a beautiful woman in her mid thirties crosses the reception area, approaching me. Wearing a custom tailored business suit, her brown hair pulled back and sporting black framed eyeglasses, I have to admit she’s very beautiful, but I just don’t swing this way. “You are Su Lin?”
I nod, swallowing my nervousness. “I am Su Lin Wong. You are?”
“Freida Worth. I’m Mr. Kelley’s personal assistant,” the woman says, smirking when she sees the obvious relief in my face. “Will you please come with me?”
“Wait, the matchmaker isn’t going to be joining us?” I ask, shocked. At each of my other ‘dates,’ a representative of the matchmaker has been in attendance, not at our table but a discreet distance away, both to make sure the client behaves themselves and to make sure that I don’t try and get some ‘side action’ on the arrangement. “Are they going to be at the restaurant?”
“We won’t be dining in a restaurant, and no, they will not be joining us,” Freida says, turning and heading towards the elevator. I follow, feeling for the first time like I’m not the person everyone’s eyes are on as we enter the elevator. Once inside, Freida takes out a metal card and inserts it into a slot underneath the buttons and punches one of the top buttons.
“Where will we be dining?” I ask, and Freida gives me an evaluating look.
“How many languages do you speak?” she asks, switching to good if not flawless Mandarin.
“Just Chinese and English, but my English is near native level,” I reply. “My studies were-”
“We know, it was one of the reasons you were selected. Mr. Kelley is looking for more than just a pretty face… although I must say you have that going for you as well,” Freida says. “How much have you been able to use your degree?”
“Almost none at all,” I admit. “I’ve been working in a bar as a… well, bartender might be the best term.”
“A hostess?” Freida says, and I shake my head heatedly. “No?”
“I might be eye candy, but I am not like those girls,” I growl in reply. “I have some self respect, Miss Worth.”
“Good.” The elevator dings, and the door opens as Freida switches back to English. “Welcome to the Presidential Suite.”
I emerge into a luxurious suite that makes my family’s apartment look tiny. Floor to ceiling windows take up one whole wall, and against it I see a table laid out with silverware, candles, and more. “Who is this man?” I murmur. “This is… wow.”
“I’d hope you’d be impressed,” a rich, deep voice says from the dim hallway on the far side of the suite. A man emerges into the light, and I’m utterly shocked. Handsome doesn’t begin to describe him. About six feet tall, with an athletic body that’s evident even through his tailored tuxedo, his deep blue eyes pierce me all the way across the room. What the hell is this man looking for a mail order bride for? He’s the type that, if he can even afford the Presidential suite here at the Waldorf, should have women falling at his feet. With his looks, he could be penniless and still have women falling at his feet.
It sets my internal defenses on edge, there’s no way a man this utterly physically perfect should be looking for someone like me, not without an ulterior motive. Still, I give him a smile and cross the room. “Mr. Kelley? I’m Su Lin Wong.”
“Richard Kelley,” the man says, offering me his hand. We shake, and there’s a tingle as our fingers touch, his animal magnetism stirring desires inside me that are rarely ever stirred. He measures me with his gaze, looking me up and down for a good three or four seconds, and it feels different than when other men have done so. It’s not like he’s undressing me with his eyes, but at the same time he is. It’s the strangest feeling I’ve ever had, because part of me likes it. “You are as lovely as your profile says.”
“Thank you. I must admit Richard-”
“Rick,” he says, correcting me. “Richard I use for business, and never, ever call me Dick. Understood?”
I stop, slightly surprised. He wasn’t harsh per se, but there was this tone of unmistakeable severity that leaves me again with questions. What the hell am I doing here? “Of course. Rick, I must admit my matchmaker didn’t tell me a lot about you.”
“On purpose,” Rick says, gesturing to the table. “Have a seat, let’s enjoy dinner and get to know each other. I suppose you have a million questions.”
I take my seat, slightly surprised when Rick doesn’t hold my chair for me, but instead settles himself on the other side of the table like a king. A private chef appears, and I’m shocked as he outlines what is to be a five course meal. As we wait, a sommelier pours us both glasses of wine. Rick lifts his glass. “To getting to know each other.”
We clink glasses, and I take a moment to look, realizing that Freida has disappeared. “This is different. No escort?”
“None needed,” Rick replies. “I know how to control myself, Su Lin. Now, for the your first question, which I’m sure has been running around your head for the past two minutes at least. What the hell is a man like me doing looking for a mail order bride?”
I blink, surprised. “The thought did cross my mind. No offense, but you hardly look like you need help meeting women.”
“I don’t,” he says, and in his bald honesty I find myself unable to be pissed off at his tone. He’s not being arrogant, just straightforward. Still, I can tell he’s a man who’s used to getting what he wants in life, hard charging and most likely the kind to run over you if you get in his way. I’ve dealt with many men like him before, but none on this level of sheer power in his force of will.
I’ll have to be very careful, and the first thing my instinct tells me is to be just as straightforward with him. “If you don’t have a problem meeting women then Rick, what does bring you to Beijing?”
“I need to find someone I can trust. And in my position in the world, trust is very hard to come by.”
“What is your position in the world?” I ask. “No offense intended Rick, but you talk like a man who’s used to everyone knowing who you are as soon as you say your name. Things are different in China.”
“One of the reasons I like visiting here, and one of the reasons I decided to search for a bride here,” Rick says. “Let me be honest, Su Lin. On my eighteenth birthday, I contracted a disease known as Trikala Syndrome. It’s noncommunicable human to human, I most likely was bitten by a small reptile. You don’t have to worry about your own health, but it is one hundred percent fatal. The average person who contracts it lives between five and eight years. I’ve lived with it for twelve.”
“Then why get married, if you most likely have so little time left?” I ask, intrigued. “If you just want companionship, I’m sure there are plenty of women who would be cheaper than getting married.”
Rick laughs, nodding. “There are. But I’m in a delicate situation. Do you know of Kelley-Stone Consolidated?”
I shake my head. “Sorry, what is it?”
“So you need a woman to give you a child,” I finish. Rick nods, and I glance back towards the rest of the suite, where I’m sure Freida is somewhere just out of sight, she struck me as very dedicated to her boss. “So why me? You can’t trust me.”
“I don’t,” Rick acknowledges, “but I can trust you to be… dedicated. I did my research on you, Su Lin Wong. Daughter of Chun Hua Wong, now Chun Hua Zhao, married to Yip Zhao. Your father was Professor Martin Bruce, formerly of Aberdeen, Scotland.”
“Formerly?” I ask, curious.
“He died in a car accident four years ago,” Rick continues evenly. For some reason, the information that my birth father, who I’ve never met and has never acknowledged my existence, strikes me harder than I thought it would and I have to dab at my left eye as a tear forms. “If it helps, I was orphaned at twelve years old, my parents died in a house fire.”
I swallow, nodding. “For some reason it does. Thank you.”
Rick continues. “Su Lin, I need someone who I can trust to act the way I expect them to act. So I have a very simple proposition for you. I have, at most, a year of life left. In that amount of time I need to produce a blood heir, and I don’t want any legal fighting over it. Therefore, I have a very simple proposition for you. Marry me, and you will sign a prenuptial agreement that states that, if you are pregnant with my confirmed child before I die, or if you actually give birth, that you will not only raise my child, but will share in the business with them. At current estimates, you would, not including the expense account that would be taken from my child’s trust, stand to inherit over a hundred million dollars on my child’s twenty first birthday.”
I half choke on the sip of wine, our second course forgotten as I stare across the table at Rick. “And if I don’t get pregnant?”
“Then you get nothing,” Rick says. “You get a year of living a jet setter life, in some ways a fantasy honeymoon for most of the year, and then… well, you would probably be entitled to remain in the United States. A woman of your education and skills would be able to find work. And a lot better work than wearing tight dresses in a bar.”
I think about it for a moment while Rick turns his attention to the fish in front of him. The deal seems simple enough. I become a brood mare for one year, and if I catch pregnant, a life of luxury for as long as I live. If not…. “Wait. What about if I meet someone after you pass on?”
“Then you get married to them,” Rick says, unconcerned. “Su Lin, I don’t expect you to love me. The fact is, I’m a bastard in a lot of ways. I’m demanding, self centered, and about the only other person to give a shit about me for anything besides my inventions and my money is Freida. What I expect is for you to take care of yourself, and to do that you need to raise my child. You won’t do it alone, Freida would share in guardianship. Your personal life though, Su Lin… that’s yours. Get married, stay a widow, play the field, that’s totally your choice.”
“And when would we get married?” I ask, shocked I’m even considering this. Maybe it’s the raw honesty from Rick, maybe it’s the animal magnetism that emerges from his blue eyes in waves that pull at me from across the table. “It takes time to-”
“Tomorrow,” Rick says. “I don’t have time to fuck around.”
“How can you pull that off?” I ask, and Rick raises an eyebrow. “Come on Rick, I’m not an idiot, I know the Chinese and American authorities-”
“Can be convinced, for the right price,” Rick says. “You don’t have to worry about the Chinese government, and the INS isn’t going to say a thing about our license either. By the time we arrive back in the United States, your green card will be ready and waiting for you.”
I think about it. I’ll be whoring myself out. But then again, isn’t that what being a mail order bride is anyway, just to a differing degree? And it isn’t like Rick is saying I have to stay with him forever, or that I would be forced to be a nun of some kind afterwards. “So we get married tomorrow, and then?”
“We fly out of Beijing on my private jet, and return to the United States,” Rick says. “What do you say? Su Lin Wong, would you marry me?”
There’s something strange in hearing the words, and my hand shakes as I reach out, picking up my wine glass to take a deep drink before setting it down. “If I say no?”
“Then we’ll have a nice meal together, and you go back to your bedroom and your bar job. But if you say yes… let’s just say the Presidential suite is just the beginning of what you might get to experience.”
Part of me wants to say no. I deserve more than to be a well pampered pet. But at the same time, Rick’s been honest. And he’s not as much of a bastard as he says. I think that’s a bit of armor on his side, since he knows he’s going to die and probably wants to keep things as simple as possible. My decision’s pretty easy. “Well then, Rick Kelley, I accept. But on a few conditions. One, after dinner I get to go home. I may not have the best relationship with my mother but she should know, and I’d like to pack a few things. Not much, but some things.”
“One bag,” Rick says. “On the plane, you can give Freida your measurements, she’ll make sure that you have a full compliment of appropriate clothing when we get back to my estate. None of which, by the way, will involve you looking like some cliche’d Chinese lotus flower whore.”
Intriguing, since I can’t shake the feeling that I just agreed to become one.
Su Lin
When Rick said that he had a private plane, I was expecting something small. Even a Gulfstream is expensive, but this thing… “What is this?”
“A design of my own making,” Rick says. “The Panther. This is the very frist prototype in fact, customized now that initial flight tests have been completed of course.”
“It’s a jumbojet,” I remark, climbing the stairs. “Do you really need this much space?”
“No, but since I designed and test flew this thing, it’s mine now,” Rick replies in a tone that says that he doesn’t really care if he stands out or not. “Besides, the data is still being used, I’m proving that the engines for a Panther can run at supersonic cruise with the amount of fuel a 737 uses for normal flight. Great for PR. Come on, we’ve got a little while before we take off, but not a huge window.”
The inside of the plane is as luxurious as I could have imagined, with rich leather seats, a series of a dozen ‘pods’ that look like they could easily serve as seats, beds, or workstations if you wanted, and more to the back. “It looks like you could live in here.”
“I’ve thought about it,” Rick admits. “With the plans I have with the time I have left, you might find yourself spending a lot of hours in here. I want to get a lot of living in over the next year.”
I nod, and put my bag in the cargo compartment next to the entrance. “Where should I sit?”
“For now, we can use the leather seats in the front,” Rick says, stashing his bag next to mine. “How is your stomach feeling?”
“I’m okay,” I reply, sitting down and buckling in. “I must admit I’m slightly nervous.”
“I bet,” Rick replies. Freida joins us, and Rick talks quietly to her for a moment before she nods, and heads up front. “Freida will act as the navigator for this flight.”
“She’s qualified?”
Rick chuckles. “She’s a fully licensed pilot, just like me. Now relax, it’ll be about twenty minutes before we’re at cruising altitude.”
I sit back, watching out the window as the plane begins to taxi. It’s remarkably quiet, much quieter than I ever expected, and when my stomach drops as we take off, I make a little squeak of alarm. Rick looks over, amused. “Sorry,” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away from the rapidly disappearing ground below us. Beijing is starting to light up for the evening, and I’ve never seen it from this vantage point before. I wonder if I’ll ever see it again. “I’ve never been in a plane before.”
“I
suspected,” Rick replies before turning his attention back to the tablet he’s pulled out. There’s nothing else said for the next half hour as we climb to our cruising altitude. Other than a slight shudder as the readout at the front of the plane goes past the Mach barrier, I can barely tell we’re moving. In fact, I’m so into the silence and relaxing that I’m surprised when Rick speaks again. “Head to the back, get yourself prepared.”
“Prepared?” I ask, wondering what the hell he’s talking about. It is near dinner time, does he want to eat? “What for?”
“To consummate our union,” Rick says, looking over at me. “You didn’t think that we’d just do the whole artificial insemination route, did you?”
I balk, opening my mouth to protest but then close it. Of course, I’m his wife now, and while I know that Americans might have a different point of view on things, in my mind there are duties that I have to perform. And one of the biggest ones is trying to become pregnant. My fingers tremble again as I unbuckle my lap belt and walk down the aisle to the rear of the plane. On another side of a door marked ‘Private Quarters’ is a bedroom that, like everything else on the plane, is luxurious. The mattress feels like a cloud as I sit down on it, but still my hands shake as I fumble nervously with the buttons on my blouse. Mother didn’t approve, she wanted that one day of being the kind and wonderful matron giving away her daughter, but I guess she’s happy enough with the ‘appreciative gift’ Rick sent her, I don’t even know how much of a dowry he paid. Or maybe she was stunned when he showed up at her home with his limo.
I’m still struggling with my buttons when Rick opens the door and closes it behind him, locking it. “You’re not undressed.”