Tara
Exhaustion and despair poured through Tara in waves. Even though the sun attempted to shine through the clouds, it couldn’t manage to penetrate them. When it did, it was feeble, as if it had given up on brightening the world. Cold layered the air, and Tara pulled her arms through the sleeves of her cardigan just as the first drops of rain fell. The pitter patter of rain rang in her ears, a sad tune that tugged at her heartstrings, only heightening the sadness that wrapped its arms around her entire being.
The hour was growing late as she hurried through the streets of the city. She’d not long been dropped off by the tour bus after spending a day sightseeing. Not that she could focus on the places she had seen. What had she seen? A museum, a church, a temple? Nothing was registering in her mind, except for the overwhelming sense of loneliness and betrayal.
Damn, why couldn’t she forget him? She’d forced herself to go sightseeing, to try and mingle with others visiting Macau, but everywhere she went his face followed her. Those whiskey-coloured eyes she loved so much would burn in the back of her mind. Several times throughout the day, she’d thought she’d seen him or felt his presence, but when she had turned around, there was no one there.
But you wanted him to be, the voice in her head whispered. That voice was so damn annoying at times she thought, shaking her head as if to cast it out and leave it behind.
It was right, though, and that was more annoying – admitting that she had wanted him to come and find her. All night Cong had tried to ring her until she had at last left the phone off the hook and could finally cry herself to sleep. As soon as she had opened her eyes, she had resolved to go out and get her mind off him.
But she couldn’t. Those fiercely penetrating eyes had haunted her all day.
It had been a sucky kind of day. First, she’d tripped up the stairs on the tour bus, slipped and banged her butt as she got off, and then, to top it all off, she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was going and walked straight into a tree. Cassie was right; she couldn’t be taken anywhere without making an idiot out of herself.
And now it was raining. At least it matches my mood, she mused. The rain washed away the tear trickling out of the corner of her eye, droplets clinging to her skin as if they could be saved from being carried away if only they could hold on tight enough. Rain and tears mingled, the salty tracks blending into fresh sky-fallen trickles. No one around her could tell which was which unless they looked closely enough, but Tara kept her eyes on the ground, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. Not that anyone was bothering to – they hurried past her, trying to get to their destination without being stuck in the rain for too long.
The rain soaked through her clothes, drenching her skin. After a few minutes, she caught sight of her hotel and hurried, the idea of a long hot shower prompting her forward. A new doorman was on duty today, an older gentleman with a moustache and dark, friendly eyes. Shivering with cold, Tara made her way towards the reception desk when a man walked up beside.
“Miss Benson?” he asked, softly.
Tara twisted her head to face him. It was the same man Cong had been talking to the first time he had arrived at the hotel to return her book. “Yes, can I help you?”
“My name is Mr Wong. I am the manager of the Orchid Hotel,” he told her, holding out his hand.
Tara took it tentatively, not sure what was going. “How do you do? Is there something wrong?”
Mr Wong spread his hands slightly, his face turning apologetic. “I am very sorry, Miss Benson, but while you were out housekeeping reported that the bathroom is faulty. Upon inspection, it appears as though there is a problem with the pipes.”
Great, can my day get any worse? “Oh,” Tara said, her heart sinking. “Just when I need a shower to warm up.”
The manager held up his hand and smiled at her. “Please, do not worry. We have upgraded you to the penthouse suite for the remainder of your stay, free of charge, while we carry out works to the bathroom.” He clicked his fingers to the girl behind the reception desk, who quickly handed him a new key card. “You will find your new accommodation on the top floor. My staff have already taken the liberty of arranging for your personal effects to be transferred. I sincerely apologise for the inconvenience, but I do hope you enjoy the rest of your stay with us.”
Tara took the new key and gave him a small smile. “I’m sure I will, Mr Wong. Thank you for your help.”
Giving her a slight bow, the manager quickly nodded to the girl behind the reception desk, and then walked away, pulling out a phone as he disappeared around the corner. Sighing, Tara slowly walked towards the elevators, fervently hoping that nothing else would go wrong.
Hitting the button for the top floor, Tara leaned back against the wall, exhaustion overcoming her. She shivered as the elevator climbed all the way to the top of the building, and barely registered the ping of the bell announcing they had arrived. Stepping through the doors, Tara looked around. Only two doors stood in the hallway. Quickly locating the right one, she pushed the keycard into the slot and pushed the door open.
The scent of lilies and jasmine swirled around her before she could step through, but as she did, the sight of hundreds of flowers scattered around the living area rooted her to the spot. Delicate white petals contrasted beautifully against the background of shimmering golden walls, while the sunshine yellow of the middle of the jasmine shone brilliantly, capturing her gaze. Tara gasped in amazement of all the exquisite flowers, her two favourite kinds.
Stepping forward, she placed the key card on the table beside the door and stepped forward. On the coffee table sat another vase of flowers, this time a bouquet of brilliant red roses and baby’s breath, with boxes of chocolates positioned beside them. Champagne rested in a silver bucket.
Then she saw it.
A beautiful gown hung from a mannequin beside the elegant marble fireplace. Shimmering in the dying light, it was the colour of gold, with a high neckline and crystals and sequins adorning it all over, the sides cut slightly away to reveal the skin of whoever wore it. It was magnificent, the most beautiful dress Tara had ever seen.
Who would do such a thing? Was she in the wrong room? Surely this was much too extravagance for a room with faulty pipes.
“I told you one day I would see you in a gold dress.”
Tara turned at the voice.
Cong stood in a doorway, a large bed peering behind him. A heavily guarded look stretched across his face.
“Was this you?” Tara whispered, a crease forming between her eyes, spreading her hands and gesturing to the room.
Nodding, Cong took a tentative step forward as if he didn’t know if she would run. “Yes.”
“How?”
“I own the hotel, remember? I simply asked the manager for a favour, and he changed your room for me.”
Tara was at a loss for exactly how she should answer him. She wiped away a droplet from her face, not knowing if it was a teardrop or rain, but held her back straight. “What do you want?” she finally asked, her voice hard as she crossed her arms over her chest, the anger rising from within.
Cong took another step and then stopped. “I came to explain what happened at my office.”
Tara snorted. “Don’t bother. I know what I saw. You men are all alike,” she told him testily, hoping her voice wouldn’t break. Damn him for coming here.
Suddenly, he was right in front of her, his eyes piercing in the dim light, his jaw tight. “I wasn’t going to fuck her, Tara. She came onto me, and I was trying to get her away from me.”
Tara rose her head and met his gaze with angry eyes. Doubts and questions began to surface in her mind at the mention of the other woman. “She was on her knees, and your belt was undone. How the hell do you expect me to believe she wasn’t about to give you a blowjob?”
“Ruomei has fast hands and she was trying to convince me to get involved in her little scheme,” he said, forcing her chin upwards so that he was the only thing reflected in her
eyes. “But I swear, Tara, I only had my hands on her wrists to try and get her away from me. I’m not lying.”
Tara tore her eyes away from his. Could he be telling the truth? He did have her hands on her wrists when she walked in as she recalled. “I want to believe you, Cong, I really do, but …” she trailed off, memories of the night before threatening to choke her again.
“But it’s hard for you to believe me when you found Greg in bed with Carly not so long ago,” he finished, his tone soft. Nodding, Tara felt the hot pricks of tears sting her eyes as Cong placed gentle hands on the tops of her arms. “You’re soaked. Let me get you a towel.”
Tara watched as Cong strode into the open bedroom and disappeared, reappearing a moment later with a towel he wrapped around her. Gently, he began to dry her hair, wiping away the remaining droplets on her face, and then down her arms, but never meeting her eyes. Finally, he stepped back. “You should go take a shower and get warmed up. Otherwise you’ll catch a cold.”
“I’m not staying,” Tara told him, shaking her head, gripping the towel between cold fingers. Her voice was deceptively composed, but she was fighting the urge not to break down in front of him. “I’ll ask the manager to take my stuff back down to my old room since I bet there’s nothing wrong with my bathroom. Goodbye, Cong.”
“Don’t go, Tara,” Cong replied, catching her hand in his, his grasp tight. “I know you don’t trust me right now, but I’ll explain what Ruomei was doing there, and then you can decide if you believe me or not. But please don’t go without hearing me out first.”
The ache in Tara’s chest threatened to split it wide open. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, then opened them, locking her gaze with his own. “Fine. I hope your excuse is better than Greg’s.”
A heavy sigh flowed over Cong’s full lips. “Ruomei and I dated, if you could call it that, months ago. It was never anything serious. Her brother and I are rivals in the business world, but while we aren’t personal enemies, we were never friends either. We’ll meet up at the same events, and Ruomei always turns up.”
“She became your girlfriend?” Tara asked, her brows drawing together, a wave of jealousy stabbing her in the chest at the thought of them entwined in his bed.
Cong snorted and shook his head, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t call her my girlfriend. She was just someone I used to fuck every now and again whenever we were in the same city. After a few weeks, I called it off, and until last week I hadn’t heard from her since.”
“So why was she getting in contact with you again?”
“I’m not going to lie, Tara, she wanted to start things up again. Not only that, she’s cocked up some scheme to try and get me to buy out her brother’s company, so that she can get a big pay-out on it.” Cong stepped forward, “I’m not lying, Tara. I have never lied to you or any other woman. I’m not the world’s nicest guy, but I’ve never cheated on a woman, and I’m always honest with them, even to the point where they don’t like it.”
Tara squeezed her eyes shut; one half of her believed him, the other half screamed at her to run out the door before he hurt her again. “What happened after I left?”
“I told her to fuck off, and I promised to tell her brother about her schemes. There are some things you just don’t to do family. Screwing them over for money is one of them. I’ve been trying to ring you ever since you left the office yesterday.”
Tara took a step forward this time, more questions clawing at her insides, begging her to voice them. “Why did you do this, Cong?” she asked, gesturing to the room. “I’ve never been interested in your money. Grand gestures like this don’t impress me. Honesty does.”
Cong rose his head, his features were painted in a sad half smile. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever known that hasn’t wanted me for my money. You have no idea what that does to me. One part loves it, and the other is scared that it’s a lie. I just wanted to do something that would make things right.”
Tara walked until she stood in front of him, peering into his face. It was the first time she’d seen such raw emotions from him. At that moment, she believed him. “It’s sweet of you to do this, Cong, but if you want to make things right with me, you need to tell me the truth. I believe you about Ruomei, but there’s something you’re keeping from me, and I want to know what it is. Something to do with that phone call the first night we made love.”
A forlorn look fell over his features, and a shadow passed over his whiskey-coloured eyes. “You’re not going to like it,” he told her softly, the words layered with desolation.
Tara brushed a wet lock of hair from her eyes. “Tough. Tell me otherwise I’ll walk out this door and I won’t be back again. Trust is hard for me after everything I’ve been through, but without it, we have nothing.”
He pursed his lips as though he was afraid the truth could spurt out against his will. After a moment, Cong nodded and sighed. “Fine, but as I said, you’re not going to like it.”
Cong
Cong sank into the sofa, his face etched with misery. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, but Tara could see in his eyes that he was struggling for words. Silence invaded the room until he finally opened his mouth. “Do you remember how I told you I was born in a small village in Guangdong?”
Tara nodded, perching herself on the edge of the chair in front of him, removing the wet cardigan and placing it on the tiles of the fireplace behind her. “I remember, but I don’t think you said what it’s called,” she told him, leaning forward.
“It’s called Anzhou and its right in the heart of Mount Luofu,” he explained, a small half smile dancing over his lips. “Both my parents and grandparents were born there. As I said before, it is a poor village. There were times when everyone lived off a single bowl of rice a day. It was a lucky day if anyone of us had meat or even vegetables, but it was worse for us. My mother died just after my first birthday.”
Her gaze bore into his with sympathy and compassion. “I’m so sorry, Cong. What about your father?”
“My father and I lived with my grandparents by the river. But after two freezing winters and no prospects, he left for Guangzhou to find work. I was three.”
“What happened?”
“He didn’t come back,” Cong told her, and although he tried to hide it, he could see that Tara saw right through his façade. “He was meant to find a job and send money or food back, but a month after he left we never heard from him again.”
“That’s awful,” Tara said, her hands playing with the edge of the towel in her lap. “Did you ever find out what happened to him?”
Cong shook his head. “I thought about it after my grandparents died, but in the end, I decided against it.”
Tara brushed a lock of wet hair out of her face, and Cong noticed how it resembled the colour of burnished garnets in the fading light. “So, your grandparents raised you?”
“They were the best, although I think I’ve mentioned that to you before as well. Our house was situated on the far east of the village, on the outskirts. The nearest house to us belonged to the Fu’s and their granddaughter, Xue, was my best friend growing up. Her father had died before she was born, so she lived with her mother and grandparents.
“Xue and I were inseparable. We did everything together. In the summer, we’d go running through the mountains or go swimming in the shallow parts of the river. I was nothing like what I am today – back then, I wouldn’t bother to study or concentrate on anything but having fun. Xue, on the other hand, was studious and serious … when I didn’t convince her to pull pranks on the teachers.”
A warm smile played across Tara’s lips, and she leaned back into the chair. “Sounds like the two of you had fun growing up.”
Cong nodded, smiling as the memories of his childhood flashed before his eyes. When their gaze met, he returned her smile. “Until these last few days, they were the best days of my life. The villagers all used to say how Xue and I were going to get married when we were
older. Of course, in those days I thought girls were disgusting, but even back then I knew Xue and I would be friends forever.”
“So, what happened? You’ve never mentioned her to me before.”
“The summer when we were ten years old was hot. If you thought it was hot while you’ve been here, then it was twice that. Our summers are usually cooler because we’re in the mountains, but that year it was like being stuck in hell. The grass had turned brown, and the crops were dying in the fields because of the heat. The river hadn’t dried up thankfully, so each day Xue and I would take a bucket down to the bank and fill them up to help water the crops. On that day, we decided we would cool off and go swimming. We had done it hundreds of times over the years and never had a problem before.” The catch in his voice was hard to miss, even to his ears.
“But something happened this time,” Tara replied on his behalf.
Nodding, Cong swallowed massive gulps of air as his insides twisted with the memory. “The current swept us up, and it was just too strong for us to get out. Xue was the first to get pulled under. I tried to grab her hand, but the current swept her away from me. Then it took me. We were pulled downstream, and after a while, I managed to grab hold of her. The water crashed over us at the bend of the river. Xue gripped onto me so tight I thought she would rip my arms off, but I still held onto her.
“Just as we were going around the bend, I saw the tree we used to play on. It had fallen into the river years ago, and all us kids would use when we dove into the river. I thought if I could grab onto it, then I could pull us up. I tried swimming for it with Xue clinging to me.” Cong swallowed hard and fisted his hands to stay as calm as he could.
“Did you manage to grab hold of the tree?” Tara asked, her words feather-soft.
Nodding, Cong inhaled once again, attempting to maintain his composure. How long had it been since he’d talked about this? Had he ever talked about the details with anyone? “I did, but I couldn’t pull Xue up. I thought if I could get my foot on a better foothold, then I could do it. But I couldn’t. My foot slipped, and it hit Xue in the chest. I can still hear her screams as the current washed her away.”
Intoxication Page 14