Love in the China Sea Page 13

  “How serious is your involvement with Edward Payton?” Judging from the look on Dick’s face, he intended to pack a wallop.

  And he did. If his question had been punctuated with a right hook, she couldn’t have been more surprised. She stared at him, struggling for nonchalance. “Why do you ask?” Anne parried his inquiry with one of her own, stalling for time. Fully aware that Dick recognized her ploy for what it was, she breathed in deeply and stiffened her spine.

  “Because I received the final papers on your promotion this morning,” he said. Dick eyed her speculatively as he shoved the manila folder across the desk. “I’ve written my recommendation, but I wanted to talk to you before I sent it back to New York for approval.”

  “Okay. Great.” Anne’s reply lacked enthusiasm, and she felt like a hypocrite as she pasted on a smile. After she had read the brief, complimentary summation of her journalistic accomplishments since transferring to Hong Kong, sudden tears smarted in her eyes. “Thank you, Dick.”

  “Now you understand why I was stressing the versatility angle.” He cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed by her watery show of appreciation. “Every word of that is well deserved, Anne. In case you don’t realize it, you’re one of the most talented reporters I've ever been privileged to have working for me.”

  “You've made it easy for me to do my best,” she assured him.

  “Before this turns into a mutual admiration contest I want you to know that I’m perfectly willing to shuffle this promotion thing to the bottom of the pile for a few days.” Dick pegged her with a serious stare. “I don’t want you to make a hasty decision that you’ll regret a year from now.”

  Anne nodded and lowered her gaze. The double-edged sword of success was threatening to cut a wide swath, severing personal ties or slicing professional red tape at her word. “I would like a little time to think this over,” she admitted in a trembling voice.

  “If my wife could overhear me she’d kill me,” Dick said. He spoke in a gruff whisper, as if the walls had ears. “But I’m going to say it anyway,” he declared.

  Intrigued by this uncharacteristic display of caution, Anne nudged her chair closer and met him halfway.

  “Sally told me she gave you one of her famous 'time to marry and settle down’ lectures,” Dick noted wryly. His indulgent tone negated his stern expression. “Now that it’s my turn to talk, I’m going to show you the opposite side of the picture.”

  Anne didn’t quite know how to respond. Trained to listen first, then analyze, she waited for him to continue.

  “I’ve watched you like a hawk since your arrival in Hong Kong, and I must say that what I’ve seen has impressed me,” Dick remarked candidly. “Good editors are like fine silver—time might tarnish their exteriors, but it doesn’t diminish their value. Your demeanor, your ability to deliver quality work under pressure, those are traits that stamp you as a potentially sterling editor.”

  Knowing that Dick wasn’t readily inclined to lavish such praise on his employees, Anne was choked with gratitude. “That's very flattering,” she murmured.

  “You've earned those accolades, Anne. Something tells me that this promotion to Athens is just the beginning for you.” Dick smiled crookedly and raised an eyebrow at her. “But I have to wonder whether you’re fully prepared to sacrifice your privacy and personal security for the risks and responsibilities inherent in a high-powered career.”

  Anne stirred uneasily as he pinpointed the problem she had been wrestling for days. “The truth is,” she confided frankly, “I just don’t know.”

  “That's what I was afraid of.” Dick sighed his concern. “You do realize that if you remarry you’ll have to whittle down some of your aspirations and juggle a few of your priorities? Otherwise . . .” He shook his head in a foreboding manner.

  “Yes.” There was a weary note in Anne’s admission. The conflict was starting to get the best of her. “This may sound strange, but I feel like a computer that's been plugged into the wrong outlet. For the past few years I've been programmed for achievement, and I've been moving toward my goals with the precision of a Swiss watch. But now . . .” Memories of Kai, and all that they had shared, touched off a wrenching pain in her heart.

  Before Dick could say anything further Mailin interrupted them with a request for the copy that he wanted wired to UNA’s subscribers. The transaction took several minutes, and it shattered the intimate lull.

  “By the way,” Dick said when Anne stood up to return to her desk, “I want to congratulate you on the fine job you did on winding up that refugee series.”

  His face reflected pride in her success. “After you introduced me to Mailin and told me her story I was afraid your final installment would have a maudlin overtone. But every word of it was right.”

  “Thank you.” Somehow this wasn’t making her feel any better.

  “Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, Anne, you’re a natural born editor. Your head rules your heart.” Dick turned to answer his telephone.

  Anne winced, stung by the unintentionally backhanded nature of Dick’s compliment. Without bitterness she realized that he was only doing his job. As an executive representative of the news agency it was his duty to encourage corporate fidelity, and to spot the risk takers. She left his office, bleakly aware that she still had a serious dilemma on her hands.

  Loneliness seeped into her whenever she thought of leaving Kai, of never again feeling the strength and warmth of his embrace, the tender passion of his kiss or the ecstatic magic of his lovemaking. Refusing to wallow in retrospection, Anne attacked the work piled on her desk, using it to blot up the dull ache of indecision. After tying up the loose ends on several articles that were due she researched the rudimentary aspects of cricket so that she wouldn’t walk cold into that dubiously regarded assignment.

  By the end of the day Anne looked tired and drawn, but she was brimming with a keen sense of professional satisfaction. She stretched, an elegant tension-relieving gesture, and looked around the office, disappointed to see that she was once again the last employee to leave. A self-deprecating smile lifted a corner of her sensuous mouth even as she fought to control the encroaching sadness. Dick knew her better than she knew herself. He’d probably gone ahead and forwarded her file the minute they had finished their conference this morning, despite his offer to play the waiting game. Anne packed her briefcase for the long, hopefully productive, evening ahead. Frowning slightly, she considered how she would break the news to Mailin.

  A devastating pain stabbed her heart and she felt a storm of grief raging inside her. Kai deserved more than she was capable of giving. Somehow she would weather this tempest and dredge up the courage to tell him good-bye. She was expecting to see him for dinner the following night. Perhaps then she would have the strength to broach the subject. Anne switched off the lights in the empty office, and the efficient cadence of her heels echoed in the eerie silence. Already cloaked in the bitter shroud of separation, her features were a sculpture of numb desolation.

  Heavenly aromas wafted from the kitchen when Anne unlocked the door to her apartment. As she crossed the living room she noticed that the drapes were open and that Mailin had dragged the dining table out onto the balcony. A lovely embroidered cloth draped the circular table, and cloth napkins and Anne’s best china and cutlery were stacked on the kitchen counter.

  “Are we having company for dinner?” Anne inhaled deeply, admiring the golden brown cakes cooling on wire racks. “You have enough dessert there to feed an army.”

  “Tonight is the Maiden Festival,” Mailin said. Her spritely face was flushed from the heat of the oven. “Unmarried women hoping for a good marriage must make a sacrifice to Ch’ang O, the Chinese Moon Goddess.” She smiled briefly, slapped Anne’s hand when it strayed too close to the cakes, then continued slicing apples and bananas to dip in batter and fry in the heavy skillet waiting on top of the stove.

  Struck by the irony of it all, Anne laughed. “Surely you aren’t e
xpecting me to participate in this ceremony?” she asked in amused disbelief.

  “Of course,” Mailin asserted, turning a wide-eyed stare on her friend. “The moon is a female deity. If our offerings please her she will intercede for us.”

  Anne smiled thinly at her friend; the last thing she ever wanted to do was to hurt Mailin’s feelings. “Tell me how I can help you get ready,” she offered in a tremulous voice.

  The two women hugged one another, laughing and talking at the same time. Anne breathed a sigh of relief as she got busy following Mailin’s precisely worded instructions on how to arrange a platter of water chestnuts and fresh fruit. Mailin also explained that the food they were fixing tonight would not be eaten by them, but would be donated tomorrow to a charitable agency to be distributed to Hong Kong’s needy people. Dusk stretched a hazy crimson canvas across the sky as they put the final touches on their table. Mailin changed out of her courier’s uniform into a lightweight cheong-sam before she joined Anne in the living room for a quiet visit.

  “We must wait until it is pitch dark before we begin the ceremony,” Mailin said. “When the moon has reached its highest point we will light the lanterns and pray. We can also ask questions about our matrimonial prospects, but do not count on receiving an immediate answer.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief and her fragile features glowed.

  As Anne sat on the sofa, listening to Mailin’s enthusiastic chatter, she wondered how and when she should broach the subject of her impending departure. In the short time they had known one another Mailin had taught her some valuable lessons about the sharing and the loyalties of true friendship.

  “You are worried about something,” Mailin observed astutely.

  “Yes,” Anne confirmed, nodding her head slowly and facing up to the awful task. “I’ve been offered a promotion to the Athens bureau and I’m worried about what will happen to you if I leave.” Although her voice and her gaze remained steady, she felt a sharp pang of remorse.

  “You must not let concern for my situation stand in the way of your progress,” Mailin said. “Even if I must return to Tsuen Wan, I will manage somehow.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “Are you going to accept?”

  Anne nodded slowly. Now that the matter was out in the open and she had a sympathetic ear she was anxious to discuss the details. “If I refuse it might be a very long time before they consider me for another promotion,” she explained.

  “What about Kai Shanpei?” Mailin asked with blunt concern.

  “I care about him very much,” Anne admitted. She rubbed her temples, trying to assuage the throbbing ache that was plaguing her again. “He’s a sensitive man, but he was deeply hurt once before. I want to spare him ever having to suffer like that again.”

  “Do you honestly believe you have the right to make that decision for him?” In Kai’s absence, Mailin was quick to jump to his defense. “I think it is his privilege alone to choose whether or not he wants to take another chance on love.”

  “But I don’t think I'm right for him,” Anne argued.

  She stood, too agitated to sit still any longer. “Everything has happened so fast, and we’re so different—”

  “I, too, have sensed the differences that exist between you,” Mailin said. “But it is beyond my comprehension why you think they cannot be resolved. When two people love one another—”

  “That’s just it,” Anne interrupted. “I don’t know whether I love him or whether what we share is simply a strong physical attraction that will eventually wane. And with this promotion pending there isn’t time to let our relationship develop at its own pace . . .” she broke off helplessly.

  “It is dark enough now for the ceremony to begin,” Mailin told her. “Perhaps the answers you are seeking will come to you tonight.” She rose and started toward the balcony. A match flared, and as she lit them one by one, the gaily decorated lanterns threw colored shadows that danced invitingly on the darkened outdoor terrace.

  Enchanted by the prospect of learning more about this important ritual, Anne followed her friend. Mailin knelt beside the table and beckoned Anne to join her. The petite refugee crooned a strangely haunting melody and offered supplications in her native tongue. Although Anne didn’t understand Mailin’s words she did feel an unusual sense of peace settle over her. When the ceremony was complete the two of them sat in silence, side by side, watching a fireworks display.

  A sharp, impatient rap interrupted their tranquil observation.

  “I'll get it.” Anne hurried through the apartment and reached for the knob, perplexed that someone would pay them a visit at this hour. She opened the door and stared straight into piercing black eyes that sent shock waves reverberating through her. “Kai!” Anne’s breath felt trapped in her throat, and her slender fingers locked around the cool brass knob. “What are you doing here tonight?”

  “I came up to see what was detaining you,” he snapped, fury raging in his eyes. “I have been waiting downstairs—as you suggested I should—to take you to dinner.”

  “Oh, no!” She clapped her palm to her forehead. Anne felt a heated flush rise in her face as the memory of Dick’s casual comment this afternoon—that her head ruled her heart—rushed back to haunt her. “I thought our date was for tomorrow night, Kai. I’m sorry. It’s been such a hectic week that I completely forgot.”

  “So I see.” He scanned her work-rumpled linen suit and her primly coiled hair, then glanced at Mailin, who was peeking in curiously from the balcony. “What is she doing here?” he demanded in a voice that grated on Anne’s already jangled nerves.

  Anne turned her head and smiled at her friend. “She lives with me.” There. She’d finally said it. Anne stared at Kai then, tipping her chin and defying him to condemn the arrangement. “The only way she could go to work for UNA was if she had a home on the island, because she can’t afford to commute.” She shivered then in the glacial resentment of his gaze.

  “And what will become of her when she outlives her usefulness as a subject for your articles?” he taunted.

  “That’s not why I invited her to live with me,” Anne denied vehemently, her cheeks flaming at his insinuation. Kai’s obstinate attitude infuriated her. “She came to see me at the office the day after we met her in Tsuen Wan. She was desperate for a job, and I offered to help.”

  “Quite possibly you have done her more harm than good,” Kai contradicted icily. He stepped past Anne into the living room and lowered his voice so that Mailin wouldn’t overhear their argument. “The Chinese have adapted many Western ideas, but the core of our culture is the family. Who are you to tamper with that most precious of relationships?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anne insisted. Her heart beat a heavy cadence as she shut the door and turned to confront him. “Mailin keeps in close contact with her parents. As a matter of fact, she writes to them once or twice a week”

  “You’re missing the point,” Kai declared. “As you know from your research, this city is not always kind to the refugees—especially young, attractive females. Your editorials, as well-intentioned as they are, won’t change the situation. Only time can work that miracle.”

  It dawned on Anne with shameful clarity that she had misjudged Kai for the second time. He didn’t dislike Mailin; quite the contrary, he seemed very concerned about her situation.

  “By leaving her parents’ home she has lost their protection,” he continued. “Unless you’re prepared to keep her under your wing until she’s financially independent or until she marries, she’s vulnerable to every sort of cruelty.”

  “I never thought of it in that light,” Anne admitted, sickened by the idea of Mailin suffering any more abuse than she already had. “It’s just not fair!” She stamped her foot in exasperation. “Mailin is intelligent. She’s capable. Why—”

  “My country has taken giant strides forward in the past two decades,” Kai explained in a more patient tone. “But we still face very complex social issues, especially in re
gard to the assimilation of the refugees.” He reached over and his lean fingers stroked the porcelain angle of Anne’s cheek. “I know your motives are sincere, but you cannot measure this situation by your Western standards of justice. They simply don’t apply.”

  Anne couldn’t meet his gaze, and it was difficult to swallow around the lump forming in her throat. How would he view her motives when he learned that she had already given Mailin notice that she would soon be fending for herself again? Her mind churned as she realized what a mess she’d made of things.

  “We’ll have to hurry if we want dinner.” Kai’s voice was like a splash of cold water in the face of her despair. “I reserved a sampan for nine o’clock.” He glanced at his watch, then smiled that heartbreaking smile. “You’ll have to go as you are; there’s no time for you to change.”

  “I won’t change,” she parroted, her voice quavering with the ambiguity of her agreement. Perhaps she would find the words to tell him good-bye, to express her feelings without completely losing control. Perhaps he would even see the wisdom of severing this tie before either of them became entangled beyond release in the silken web of this desire without a future. “I’ll tell Mailin we’re leaving.”

  Anne walked toward the balcony, frightened by the stillness and the emptiness already echoing inside her. Never again, she silently vowed. Never again.

  “I have to go with him,” she explained to her friend. “I have to tell him.” She crossed her trembling hands over her heart as if that feeble action would keep it from breaking.

  Mailin nodded her understanding. “Ch’ang O will guide you,” she encouraged solemnly. “And I will pray for you.”

  The streets were curiously quiet—in deference to the fact that this was a holiday that people celebrated in the privacy of their homes, Anne supposed. Kai suggested they dine near the pier since that was where he had arranged to meet their sampan guide, and they walked the short distance from Anne’s apartment. Kai’s light but proprietary grip on her arm threatened to totally demolish what little composure she had left, and Anne felt strained to the snapping point by the time they were seated in the restaurant.