She fidgeted with her glasses to hide her trembling hands.
“What can we do?” she asked.
“For now, I think he’d want us to keep it business as usual.”
That sounded like Phoenix. She nodded.
“I’m going to get the agency together and tell them what happened. I’m going to ask everyone to keep this from becoming a media circus. We’re an ad agency, we know how to generate PR and how to avoid it. He’s never on social media anyway, so no one needs to know. He wouldn’t want our clients losing faith in us.”
“Okay.”
Despite having avoided church for many years, Liv squeezed her eyes shut and brought her hands together in prayer.
CHAPTER 6
TAKE ME WITH YOU WHEN YOU GO
Orchid
MONDAY JULY 30, BEIJING CHINA
Orchid pulled her suitcase through the echoing terminal at Beijing’s Capital Airport. Her brain tried to make sense of the unintelligible pictograms and literal translations.You’re not in Kansas anymore.She didn’t have Chinese yuan yet, so she dropped US bills into the hands of the few beggars who’d snuck into theuber-clean terminal.
What would they do if Phoenix were here? He’d probably snag a few tourist brochures and convince her to take far-flung excursions, then research vegetarian restaurants to make sure she ate well. His long fingers would swipe a set of kitty playing cards for her from the duty-free shop.Wait, no.
She replayed their goodbye yesterday morning in New York. Phoenix’s darkly handsome face and kind eyes shrinking back. His voice exposing his heart, which was in stark contrast to the night before. Sure, they’d drunk a lot, but his words had felt like the truth. They’d been sitting so close. On the little settee in her living room. He’d studied her, then brushed a lock of hair off her cheek. The spot where his skin had grazed hers left a trace of electricity in its path. “You are amazing. Everything about you,” he’d murmured.
She’d read the tenderness in his eyes and leaned in, breathing in his warmth. He’d smelled of Scotch and spice. After all these months of holding back, she’d lifted her face and brought her lips to his. They were soft. He’d returned her kiss. Gently at first, then more urgently. In contrast to their months of professional distance, their closeness sent a shock through her, even more explosive than the hum she felt whenever they were in the same room. Her hands explored his ripped arms and muscular back. Lost in passion, time had no measure. While her brain was still foggy, he’d pulled back and studied her, his lids hooded and eyes wet. She had no idea how she looked. Her lips felt swollen, her cheeks raw from his stubble. He’d stood, unsteady on his feet, either from the booze, or emotion. He bent, his cheek to hers, and said something that she couldn’t hear over the buzz in her ears. Then, he’d left. Walked out her door. The next day, he barely wanted to acknowledge or talk about the attraction between them, about the night that should’ve been a turning point in their relationship.
She hated goodbyes. They seemed so final.
I have it bad, she thought to herself as she waited in line for a cab.
“Lidu fan guanr.” She told the driver the name of her hotel, and settled into the back of his taxi. Seat belts would be great, except they were tucked into the fabric cover, unreachable and unusable.
“Lidu fan dian,” he corrected her, baring teeth brown in the deep crooked crevices.
During the drive, she practiced her Mandarin, and learned that the driver’s parents were raising his son in a faraway hometown. It was a common practice for rural citizens to move to China’s cities and send their earnings back home.
She glanced at the time. Four a.m. in New York. Too early to call. Instead, she opened her phone and paged through photos. She paused at an image of Phoenix from their day at the beach, his familiar gaze and cobalt eyes framed by thick lashes. It seemed as if an artist had brushed an impressionistic sweep of stubble around his full lips to soften the perfection of a straight nose and masculine brow.Stop. To distract herself, she snapped a pic of her agreeable driver, and wrote a post to check on her friends. “Arrived! Miss you all already!” Nothing from Phoenix. After his refusal to talk about their relationship, she wasn’t about to be the first to make contact.
Her hotel room smelled like cigarettes, the still-smoldering butts hurriedly ground into bedspreads, tables and any available surface. Tucked in between the pages of her book, she discovered a little reminder of Phoenix. A note from the congratulatory flowers he’d sent, his handwriting a loose and confident scrawl. At the last minute, she’d grabbed the memento as a bookmark, a talisman against anything happening during their time apart. Now, anything related to Phoenix seemed to mock her.
In the morning, a downstairs breakfast buffet featured rectangles of turnip cake, thousand-year-old eggs (hopefully marketing puffery), sweet red bean soup with gelatinous doughballs, and Chinese cabbage in savory sauce. She wanted to share the experience with those back home.
Orchid tapped her screen to post photos for her friends. Chats rolled in from girlfriends wishing her well. Mandy had sent a baby photo, colleagues posted funny memes, and her boss wished her a safe trip.
Nothing from Phoenix. Jerk.
CHAPTER 7
NEVER FAR AWAY
Veronica
When the twins were little, Veronica lost herself in their innocent eyes, one pair bright like the sky, the other pair polished like obsidian. She didn’t love one child more than the other. But Caleb sure brought home the heartache. Her husband, John, said Caleb butted wills with her because he was too much like her.
Then John died so unexpectedly. He’d been a part of her. They were supposed to retire in the next few years and travel. Even now, she would forget and turn to tell him something. Especially now, with this accident.
