“Work?”
“My boss said we need international experience for any shot at a promotion. And, oh, by the way, they’re recruiting a Lauder marketer for an assignment to China.”
“China? You know you can’t leave me!”
“It’s a temporary assignment, six weeks. And there’s no way they’re going to pick me.”
“Who better than you?”
“Someone with more experience. The Princeton pedigree in my office, for one. He started speaking Mandarin during the meeting, for crying out loud.”
Mandy nearly spit the mouthful she’d just taken. “Mandarin? But you can too, right?”
“I have the vocabulary of a two-year old.” She inhaled, the truth spilling out. “The weird thing is, with this Princeton wretch vying for the spot, it makes me want it even more. If I get this, leave baby Matty with hubby and come with me!”
Mandy faced her phone screen towards Orchid. “I cannot leave this munchkin.”
Cherub cheeks, ruddy with sleep, topped with a bunny-soft tuft of blond hair.
“Aww, he’s the cutest.”
Without prompting, Mandy swiped and paused on another photo of her son, his fists pumping in excitement over a spoon headed for his round mouth. “His favorite is barley.”
“Neigh,” Orchid whinnied.
Mandy snorted. “Back to you. Do you have family there?”
“None that I know of. But this is a fast track to promotion.” Thinking in terms of her future with the company made more sense than talking about the growing urge she had to visit her mother’s home country. She figured that her features were mirrored somewhere in the faces of those billion people. Just like her mom’s.
“So, what’s the plan?” Mandy asked, getting the bartender’s attention and pointing to her glass.
“I’ve set up time with my boss, and I’m going to let her know I’ll do anything. Study, learn the language, whatever it takes.”
Mandy gave her a broad smile. “You go, girl! There’s research about guys going for an opportunity even if they have only half the qualifications, but women feel they need a hundred percent to even apply.”
“Don’t worry, I’m going for it. It’s perfect for me. It’s the only way to a promotion, and I can’t stand the thought of Princeton winning.”
“I’d pick you,” said Mandy.
Orchid gave Mandy’s arm a gentle squeeze. “You’re the sweetest. I’d pick you too. Now, I need the bathroom.” She slid off the seat and straightened her minidress. In Hell’s Kitchen, rocking an attitude was essential.
David Beckham was gone. Snake-tatt guy was still slumped on the bar stool. His slouch emanated an angst that Orchid could relate to.
The DJ seated on the far side of the bar transitioned to a driving bass line that urged Orchid towards the dance floor. The restrooms were situated down a corridor, somewhere on the other side of the writhing bodies.
The tacky floor tugged at the soles of her platform boots as she bopped along to the beat. A hiss accompanied a familiar scent. Faux smoke shrouded the space. Like she needed additional obstacles to finding the loo. That is, besides her buzz.
Orchid’s bladder moved her toward the hallway and then the bathroom. The little symbol with the arrow was the women’s room, right? How quaint that this throwback place didn’t have gender neutral washrooms.
The handle turned easily, so she pushed through the door, flimsy like the card house of her life.
“Aiya!” came a deep voice. A tall figure jumped back from the sink. The door barely missed his athletic form. Orchid almost tumbled into him.
“What are you doing in here?” she cried out.
His azure eyes reflected kindness, and his full lips widening in a field of stubble caused her breath to hitch. The David Beckham doppelganger! His baritone rumbled with good humor. “I don’t know about you...but I’M in the men’s room.”
She felt her cheeks warm.Oops. Before she walked out, she commented on his Chinese expression. “I speak English, you know, even if I look Chinese.”
