“Because I’m a woman?”
“I’m competitive, not sexist.”
“How did you learn to code?” She snapped a strand from the basket and discovered it was made of sharp cheese, rich and salty against her tongue.
“My grade school had three afterschool clubs—computers, arts and athletics. I didn’t want to go home, so I had to pick one. I can speak on a stage if I have to, but I have no talent for performing or other creative pursuits. I was decent in track and field, but have no interest in team sports. The isolation of a computer screen, however, was my dream habitat.”
“Why didn’t you want to go home?”
“My father was a drunk and not fun to be around.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
She couldn’t help noticing the strain of his shirt across his chest, as though his muscles had tensed despite the fact he sounded very indifferent and relaxed.
“I read that you’re a black belt in kung fu.”
“It’s a good workout and clears my mind.”
“When did you start?”
“When bullies started calling me Kung Fu Kid.” He pointed at the tiny overlap at the corner of his eye. “I went to the nearest dojo and offered my computer skills in exchange for lessons. It was another convenient way to avoid going home.”
“Did you teach those bullies a lesson?”
“My sifu taught me not to care what they said.”
“You never fought back?” What was the point in going all the way to black belt, then?
“I threw a boy to the ground once, when he tried to start something. His friends were right there, planning to help. Word got around and they stopped bothering me. Then I sold my app and everyone wanted to be my friend.”
“You were twelve? It was a game, wasn’t it?”
“This is why I never bother talking about myself. Anything of note has already been documented online.” He cleaned the meat off the delicate bone in one bite and set it aside.
“I don’t know much more than that, except that you won a national competition for young entrepreneurs and caught the attention of Silicon Valley. They paid you a million dollars?”
“Which caught my grandmother’s attention. She came to warn me not to let my father take control of my money. He cautioned me against trusting her. They had a heated discussion and I didn’t hear from her again until she came to his funeral.”
“She didn’t try to help you? Did she realize your father had a drinking problem?”
“Given how furious she was with my mother, I believe she probably did. I didn’t want her help.”
“Why not?”
“My own version of Stockholm syndrome, I suppose. The devil you know and all that.”
She absorbed that, thinking he was onto something. She had rationalized staying with Mae rather than taking the hard road of striking out on her own. Before that, she had tried relentlessly and earnestly to earn her mother’s regard.
“Did you keep control of your money?” she asked.
“More or less. I hired a certified advisor and talked my father into paying off our mortgage, which had been my grandmother’s advice.”
“Real estate has been very good to her.”
“And me. I invested heavily in property as I sold more apps. It came easily to me. Felt like a license to print money. When I was fifteen, I hired a private tutor so I had more flexibility with my education. I graduated high school early and completed a business degree before I turned twenty. I predicted the financial crash and was one of those select few who came up roses.”
“And your father...?”
“Drank himself to kidney failure, but lived comfortably until then. I supported him, put him in rehab several times. It never took.” He used a jagged corner of shell to stab a pea and ate it with a crunch.
“Did he have other family? Do you have cousins?”
“A handful of people who didn’t want to know him, but who crawl out of the woodwork periodically to ask me for start-up capital. Some ventures succeed, others have gone bust. It’s another reason I’ve kept my distance from my grandmother. It’s hard to say no to family, but it can be foolish to say yes. Do you have family besides your mother and father? Is he still alive?”
“I haven’t seen anything online about him since he went to prison for corruption a couple of years after I left for Singapore. I guess his sons are my half brothers, but I’ve never met them or tried to reach out.” She wrinkled her nose in dismay. “I presume they’re much like him. My mother’s family was very poor. She never spoke of them. I wouldn’t know where to begin looking for them and have no reason to.”
It was odd to talk about herself. No one had asked about her life or seemed interested in it for years.
Their plates were cleared and bowls of warm, scented water brought to rinse their hands.
“We should dance,” Gabriel said when she looked toward the drift of piano notes from the other side of the restaurant.
She shook her head. “I took ballet years ago, but only to help with grace and posture. I’ve never danced for real.”
“With a man, you mean? That’s a good reason to do it, then, isn’t it?” He rose and held out his hand. “Leave that here,” he said of the clutch she would have carried with her. “It’s perfectly safe.”
She nervously left it on the chair as she rose and placed her hand in his. An electric current seemed to run from the weave of their fingers up her arm to start an engine purring in her chest.
Eyes followed them, but she kept her gaze on the lobe of Gabriel’s ear as he wound through the tables ahead of her. Out of nowhere, she wondered what it would be like to nibble his ear. People did that, didn’t they? Would he like it? Tendrils of intrigue unfurled inside her at the thought of dabbling her tongue there and sucking. Of him doing it to her. She had to stifle a reflexive moan at the carnal fantasy.
Along with the pianist, there were a cellist and a violinist. It was like being in a movie as he turned when they reached the dance floor and drew her into his arms. She felt as though she floated when they began to move together.
“You’re perfect,” he said as he led with athletic grace.
Her light skirt lifted and fell against her bare legs in a sensual caress while she absorbed the strength of him, the surety of his touch moving her about so effortlessly. A pleasurable heat suffused her and she knew this would be her new memory for her stage smile. She didn’t know if she’d ever felt so light in her life. So carefree and purely, simply happy.
She suspected she was actually asleep and would wake in her plain room in the servants’ quarters of Mae’s mansion very soon.
“The entire place is spellbound,” he murmured, making her falter slightly.
“Was that the goal?”
“I can’t deny I wanted to see their reaction.”
“Why?” She became self-conscious and had to concentrate to ensure she didn’t misstep.
“A crowd like this is used to being surrounded by beauty. You’re above and beyond anything they will have ever seen.”
“Is that what I am? A piece of art you’ve acquired?” Was that why he hadn’t said anything about