Bride of the Moso Prince (37 page)

BOOK: Bride of the Moso Prince
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She got up from the sofa all of a sudden and went upstairs to her bathroom. The jasmine scent welcome her and brought her back to her old life in an instant. “Well, it’s good to be back!” Sharon muttered to her reflection in the mirror cheerfully, ready to put the memories of the past weeks behind her. She filled the bathtub with hot water and dissolved a pack of lavender bath salt before she sank in.

             
Soaking in the tub had been the most luxurious moment of her life. She would always forget a day’s stress and fatigue once she was in it. She was sure that after the bath, she would forget all the silly sentiments she was feeling at the moment. Pillowing her head with the water pillow, she stretched her arms and her legs and closed her eyes. The lavender scent soothed her and soon her mind drifted away, out of the bathroom, out of the house, out of San Marino, out of LA, and into the mountains. She no longer smelt the lavender, instead, her nostrils were filled with the scent of fresh pines. She opened her eyes and saw the steams rising from the water. The temperature of the water had reached the point of boiling, and she knew why. Lying next to her was the sizzling male body that had been obsessing her mind. There, he was licking her tummy and made her squirm. There he was stroking her thigh and made her moan… then she somehow got out of the water and ran away. She was swimming in the lake again, and it was cold… Sharon started. She felt asleep in the tub again. The water was turning cold. She turned on the hot water faucet again to warm herself, and then got out of the tub.

As soon as she pulled the down over her and closed her eyes Sharon saw the lake and the handsome face of Nobul. What was he doing at this moment? It would be noon time over there. He might be having lunch alone, or with Urcher. He was probably working on the costume room. She wished she was there helping him! Oh God! She couldn’t hold her tears any longer. Why did she leave the island? She was the idiot! The way he cared for her after the accident was closer to a lover’s gesture than a merely sexual partner. And the way he made love to her was not merely pleasure seeking. There was love in his tender care and there was care in his love. He was not a playboy and he was not like Jason. She could still see the sincerity in his eyes when he asked her to marry him. She had to be an idiot to not know that he did those things for her out of love. Love was present in every human race. She was an idiot to even think like Dr. Lewis! She wished she had
accepted his proposal
. She could have stayed in the island. She could work as a freelance programmer… But wait. He did say that he wanted her to cook for him and work by him and… in other words, be his slave. That wasn’t what she wanted. No. Marriage was not for her. She did the right thing to come back. Yes she did. She convinced herself.

All she needed was a good night’s rest, she thought as she forced the thoughts out of her mind, she would for sure forget everything in the morning.

             
Sharon opened her eyes as the sunlight filtered into the room through the blinds. She stared at the ceiling. How boring it was to be greeted by that blank white ceiling every morning of your life? She missed the embroideries on the canopy, the butterflies, the mandarin ducks, and the beautiful bronze face on the pillow next to her. Oh no! She cupped her ears with her palms. This wouldn’t do!

 

             
Sharon got up and went straight to the kitchen. She had not planned to go to work today but she needed to call Jenny and let her know she was back.

             
“Hi Sharon! It’s good to hear your voice finally. Mr. Yamada was getting anxious.”

             
“What’s wrong? Is he mad about my absence?”

             
Jenny giggled, “Mad? Not at all! He was so impressed with your work on Pacific Bank!”

             
Sharon sighed with relief. “Oh, that’s unexpected. It was just an upgrading.”

             
“No it isn’t
just
an upgrading. He really likes the double layer sign-in with personal security icon. Also the site recognition device and computer recognition device. The testing went smoothly, very little debugging. Anyway, he was so impressed that he,” Jenny paused and whispered in a somewhat secrete voice, “he said he would give you a promotion when you came back!”

             
“Really? He said that?” Sharon was glad to hear it. Her boss was usually hard to please. Even when he was satisfied with her work he seldom let it show.

             
Yet she had expected the compliment. She had a sudden surge of inspiration and creative energy when she was working on the island. Sharon’s mind drifted to thousands of miles away and saw herself sitting in the Empress’ bamboo couch in the yard, in front of that magnificent lake view. Nobul was bringing tea and refreshment to her constantly…

             
“…Hello? Sharon, are you there?” Jenny’s voice brought her thoughts back.

             
“Yes I’m here, sorry, I was, uh, distracted,”

             
“So how was China? How was Charlene?”

             
“Oh, China was great,” Sharon smiled, “hardly recognizable. Charlene is all right. Thank you for asking.”

             
“When are you coming back to work?”

             
“Tomorrow.” Sharon said without thinking.

             
“See you then!”

             
“See you!” Sharon put down the receiver and felt cheerful by the news. A promotion. Great. She was a senior programmer/designer, with a promotion she would become a principal analyst, and that was the highest technical position in the company.  It took her ten years to get to the top. That wasn’t bad at all, considering many others who had retired after decades work without moving up a single rung on the ladder. She should celebrate in advance. She would go to dinner at Tasty Garden, her favorite Chinese restaurant in Acadia, and order her favorite stuffed lotus roots for entrée, red bea
n
pancake for dessert, and a cream
ed
red tea. She would bury herself amidst birthday celebrations and family atmosphere, ignore the long line of diners in waiting and eavesdrop the g
ossips of the next table for an
hour …all by herself—forget it.

             
She sighed as she opened a carton of Silk and made herself a bowl of cereal. While eating, she played the answering machine. There were quite a few messages, one of them was from her house sitter the day when she left for China, telling her that she was on her way to the house. A bunch of sales calls. A couple of blanks. And then, an old man’s frail voice blabbering. It was her dad. Sharon stopped eating and replayed the message.

             
“Sharon,” her father voice came after a long silence. It had taken him a while to think about what to say or whether to leave a message at all, “Where are you? You haven’t called for two weeks. Is everything all right?”

             
Before she knew it, Sharon was swallowing cereal seasoned with her own tear. And she thought herself pathetic. What’s the matter with her? She was crying because her callous old man had called her, first time in ... two years? She had been dutifully calling him once a week ever since he moved in Monterey Hills two years ago and she didn’t know it mattered that much to him. She didn’t call him before going to China since she didn’t want him to worry, or worse, to bring up the whole subject of Charlene’s majoring in anthropology. Now he sounded strange, as if he had missed her. What was wrong with him anyway? He wasn’t sick or anything, was he?

             
She dialed the number of her father’s house and the housekeeper Nancy picked up the phone.

             
“Nancy, it’s Sharon. Is everything all right?”

             
“Hi Sharon, good to hear from you,” the housekeeper’s voice was delightful, “Lisa called your office and they said you went to China.”

             
“She called my office? What happened?”

             
“Your father had a heart attack shortly after you had left,” Nancy added quickly, “he’s fine now. It’s a mild one. But his spirits are down and he’s staying home under doctor’s order…”

             
Sharon gasped as the housekeeper went on, heart attack? The muscles of her heart constricted as she interrupted Nancy again, “Is he home now?”

             
“Yes, he is getting up. And he’s recovered. Don’t worry.”

             
“I’m coming over.”

 

             
Few miles south of San Marino, Monterey Park was an entirely different continent. It would be more accurate to call it China Park, for it was like a city in China. Driving on Garvey, all Sharon could see wer
e Chinese pedestrians and store
names written in Chinese. Once a month she would come here to visit the grocery stores, not really to shop but to walk through the isles and see the familiar brands of products and to remember the days when her mom was alive. Sharon stopped by an herbal store and picked up a box of ginseng tea that was her father’s daily drink. Then she went to a market to get sweet egg rolls for Nancy.

             
Her mom had never really liked living in San Marino, and had always wanted to move to Monterey Park. Her dad had built a house on the top of Monterey Hills a few years back,
but
her mom had lived there for only a couple months. After the death of her mom, her dad had meant to sell it but never put it into the market. Then it became the mansion of his new family instead.

             
Nancy, the Shanghai woman, whom Sharon’s mother had hired years ago, opened the gate.

             
“Aya, Sharon! It’s good to see you!” Nancy was overjoyed.

             
Sharon thrust the
box of sweet egg rolls into Nancy’s hands.

             
“Bless you, child, still remember what my favorite is!”

             
“Where is he?” Sharon asked as she was getting in. Her father was usually home before ten.

             
“Yes. Mr.
Liao
is reading newspaper in the study. I told him you were coming. He’s expecting you.”

             
When they were walking Nancy asked, “How is Charlene? You went to see her, didn’t you?”

             
“She is fine. Thanks for asking.”

             
Nancy led her towards the study. The house was quiet.  “Where are the kids?”

             
“Oh!” Nancy smiled, “Lisa took them to the office.”

             
Her dad was reading his paper in an armchair. He looked at least ten years older than she last saw him in New Year.

             
“Oh Sharon,” he said in a voice that belonged to an eighty year old. “When did you come back?”

             
“Last night.” She mumbled.

             
“How’s Charlene?”

             
“She’s doing fine.”

             
“Come sit down,” He pointed to the chair next to the bed. “Heart attack isn’t contagious.”

             
She smiled. Her dad’s humor was the only thing she had missed.

             
Nancy brought her a cup of tea and a plate of cookies, put them on a table and left promptly.

             
“So what brought you here?” her father asked.

             
“Well, I got your message.”

             
“You could’ve called instead.” He sounded nonchalant like he had always been, but he was smiling in an affectionate way. Sharon was not used to it and felt sad. It must have been the heart attack.

             
“Are you Ok?” She asked.

             
“Yeah, I’m ok.” The old man managed a cheerful smile, “I’m tough as an oxen, like your mom used to say.”

             
Mom? Sharon raised her eyebrow. It was the first time he mention her mom after her death. Sharon didn’t know what to say and there was an awkward silence between them.

             
Mr.
Liao
broke the silence. “Well, I’m glad you’re here anyway. I have a favor to ask you.”

             
“What is it?”

             
“I want you to take my place and manage Double Luck for me.”

             
Sharon couldn’t believe it. “Are you serious? I know nothing about real estate business.”

             
“But you can learn.”

             
“Isn’t Lisa doing it?”

             
“She isn’t as good as you’re. She’s good at paperwork but not at the management level. Besides, I want her to spend more time with the babies.”

BOOK: Bride of the Moso Prince
8.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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