Page 18 of From Beijing, With Love

“I was going to say a day on the Great Wall. Hello, national treasure of your fatherland.” Poppy threw her hand up, always one for the dramatics. It was half the reason why Daniel loved her. Then she paused, her voice scrubbed clean of theatrics, leaving only a painful sincerity. “What was that like? Wanna talk about it?”

“The longest car rides of my life. About a billion stairs. Boiling-hot weather,” Daniel said with an exaggerated groan. He wasn’t going to deep dive into his feels. He only did that, reluctantly, with a paid professional who had a penchant for cardigans and chamomile tea. “I think maybe I need to add stair climber into my gym routine.”

“So, not ready to talk about it yet. Noted.” Poppy deployed the signature Dutch bluntness. “But I’ll be here when you are ready.”

“Thanks, Pops.” Daniel smiled against the fabric of the sheet mask, a bit of serum smudging onto his lips. He was pretty damn grateful for his best friend.

“And what about this grumpy man that you spent a long and hot day with?” Poppy asked, her voice half teasing and half prying.

“Definitely not like that.” Daniel shut it down. Taking a casual and generous sip of his wine and not attempting to change the subject, he asked, “How’s the work stuff going?”

Poppy narrowed her brown eyes. “Daniel Wu, don’t change the subject.”

“Do you think your trip will wrap up early?” He tried again.

Second time was the charm, because Poppy dropped her inquisition. “Things are going well, but I don’t think I can cut it short.”

Daniel leaned back into the headboard of the bed. “So … Saturday?”

“Actually, Sunday,” Poppy said in a small voice. “Can you hang on until then?”

“Of course,” Daniel lied, happy his face was hidden.

“Did you leave the hotel at all?” Even with the sheet mask covering her face, Daniel could spot the frown.

“Well, I was exhausted after the tour yesterday, then I went to a bar afterward.” Daniel darted his eyes away like he was mentally running through a lengthy list. “And I had a massive hangover this morning. You know baijiu?”

“Danny …” Poppy peeled off her mask, probably so she could deploy the full range of her facial expressions on him, as if her I’m worried about you voice weren’t enough.

“It’s a five-star hotel, Pops. There’s a restaurant, a full bar, room service, and the gym is well equipped. What more could I possibly want?”

“See the city, maybe? You know, do all the other shit that people do on vacation. All of which involves leaving the actual hotel,” Poppy said, that beloved Dutch bluntness making a comeback with a side of bossiness.

“I already went to the Great Wall. Bucket list, check.” He made the ticking motion with his finger.

“Because I made you. And I take back what I said earlier. I’m zero percent sorry about that.”

“I knew it!” Daniel pointed at the phone screen with a gotcha smile that was not reciprocated. Instead, he was met with Poppy’s knitted brows. She was officially entering her worrier era.

“I’m totally fine, seriously.” Daniel let the sheet mask do all the heavy lifting in hiding how not-totally-fine he was. “I’ll go out. I promise. With the Chinese SIM you got me, I don’t have to worry about roaming, so I’m golden.” He flashed her a golden smile to go with the lie, like he was more worried about his phone bill than say … getting lost in the city that was too foreign, filled with too many people, all speaking a language he didn’t understand. Daniel had never been the adventurous traveler, sticking strictly to nearby European cities—the familiar and comfortable choices. Beijing was different. A behemoth. The boss fight in a video game he wasn’t ready to face. Now, or maybe ever.

“Just a warning, don’t freak out if some of your apps stop working on the Chinese SIM, because, you know … censorship, information control, surveillance. All that good stuff.” Poppy rolled her eyes, then she looked at him with those brows that spelled worry. “Just hang in there. I’ll see you in a few days and we’ll do Beijing together, okay?”

“Can’t wait,” Daniel said, wishing Sunday would come sooner.

Daniel woke up feeling like he had been run over by a school bus. Instinctively, he reached for his phone on the nightstand, knocking over the empty wine bottle. It dropped to the carpeted floor with a soft thud before rolling under the bed.

Pulling the duvet up to his chin, he scrolled through his phone.

Poppy: Babe, sent you another care package. It’ll be there at two.

At the risk of sounding like his mother, Daniel hoped it was another bottle of that Barolo from last night. A big-boy-sized glass of wine always helped him better embrace the glass-half-full life. And he was sort of on vacation (the glass-half-full attitude).

Sinking into his pillow, he scrolled through his socials, even though he knew full well it was a minefield. His thumb flicked upward with robotic repetition, barely stopping to dismiss his low-battery warning. He had only himself to blame when he ran face-first into Taylor’s post.

Shit.

Daniel’s stomach churned as he looked at the picture—two Porn Star Martinis (once his favorite) at a bar on Haarlemmerstraat that he knew well. A thought ambushed him: He’s already moved on to something better.