Black Karma (4 page)

“Don't be so hard on yourself. If you'd take the time to dress up and wear a little makeup you'd be stunning. Tonight, wear the red dress I picked out for you. You look amazing in red.”

She produced a noncommittal shrug. “I'll think about it.”

“Are you going to tell Jason about Chen?”

“I'll think about it.”

He waited with his arms crossed.

She remained ambivalent about telling Jason anything he didn't absolutely need to know. If Jason meddled in her affairs, chances were good someone would die. Death heeled the man like a faithful hound.

She replied reticently. “All right, I'll tell him. But I'm leaving out the part about the tingling. I have enough trouble sorting out my own feelings without having to explain yours.”

“Deal!” He smiled. “And, you don't have to worry about Elizabeth and the girls. We'll do a movie night. What do you want me to tell them if they ask?”

“I'm going to tell them I'm having dinner with a client.”

“Do you think you can lie to Elizabeth and get away with it?”

She seriously considered the question. Elizabeth had been employed as her governess after Bai's parents had been vaporized in a car bomb. She'd been with Bai since childhood. What complicated matters was that Elizabeth was also Jason's mother and, for all intents and purposes, Bai's mother-in-law, even though she and Jason never actually got around to getting married—a little fact that hadn't escaped anyone's notice.

“Truthfully, I'm not really all that confident I can pull it off. Sooner or later she always finds me out. Look at me: I'm over thirty and still afraid to tell my mother I'm seeing a boy she doesn't approve of, even though that boy happens to be her own son. How messed up is that?”

“She worries about you. We all do.”

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “I'll tell Jason what's going on. You do your best to distract the girls. I'll try to get home early.”

He smiled again. “I love your optimism, even if it is delusional.”

“I swear,” she said, walking backward toward the open elevator, “this time I'm not going to end up in bed with him. This is just dinner,” she vowed as the doors closed.

She pushed the button for the second-floor gym to check on her girls and waited while the elevator smoothly rose. The doors opened to the sound of blaring music. The girls, who were supposed to be practicing their martial arts, remained oblivious to her presence. They danced in front of a mirrored wall, shaking their booties to Beyoncé's demand to “put a ring on it.”

Jia, the oldest at fifteen, didn't show any visible scars from the severe beating she'd received after being sold into the sex trade. She'd made a miraculous physical recovery. The emotional scars were proving more difficult to heal. Bai hoped that time and ongoing therapy would eventually mend the psychological damage. Jia remained more fragile than she appeared.

Bai's daughter Dan, thirteen, had other issues. A brilliant loner, she verged on being a recluse. She took after her mother, demonstrating a tendency to be moody. Studying college course material and attending special classes for the gifted further alienated her from children her own age. The child's brilliance and preternatural maturity worried Bai. She feared her daughter might someday withdraw into her shell like a turtle and never come out.

Dan had bonded with Jia while helping to nurse her back to health, the two becoming as close as sisters. Dan taught Jia how to fight to make her strong enough to beat off any attacker. Jia, on the other hand, seemed determined to teach Dan how to dance and talk to boys. Their bond made them each stronger.

Unwilling to barge in on the dance session, Bai pushed the button for 3. When the elevator doors opened on the top floor, she stepped onto a blue granite floor to be greeted by a coat of red-lacquer Chinese armor dating from the eighteenth century. A remnant of her grandfather's collection, the armor stood guard in her foyer just as it had in his home. She'd donated most of his collection to the Asian Art Museum shortly after his death, retaining only a few pieces for sentimental reasons.

Familiar sounds and smells wafted from the kitchen. Pans rattled as Elizabeth prepared dinner. The aroma of garlic and roasting meat enticed Bai. She followed the scent like a fish following a shiny lure. Standing in the doorway of the kitchen, she watched as Elizabeth bustled.

Elizabeth stood five-foot-nothing with delicate features, graceful limbs, and a tiny waist. Straight black hair, cut in a bob, framed a heart-shaped face. Her eyes were large and brown; her nose straight and petite. Full lips formed a perfect smile. She turned to see Bai. “You're home.”

“Yes. But I have a dinner engagement at five with a client, so I won't be here for dinner.”

“Anybody I know?”

Bai avoided the question. “Is that duck you're roasting?”

“Yes. It's a shame you won't be here.” The tone of Elizabeth's voice carried a hint of reprimand. “Someone from
Sun Yee On
called to say the car would be a few minutes late in arriving.”

“Thanks,” Bai replied meekly.

“Are you having dinner with Jason?”

“It's business.”

“I believe you mentioned that.”

Bai checked to see if Elizabeth's breath frosted in the suddenly chill atmosphere. She thought it best to change the subject. “Lee wants to have a movie night with the girls.”

“How convenient.”

Bai knew that nothing she might say would mitigate Elizabeth's fears. Elizabeth had married a triad soldier and been widowed at an early age. They both knew of the danger associated with being anywhere near Jason. A lot of people wanted him dead.

Bai took a deep breath and plunged in. “I'll be careful.”

“If you're going to be with Jason, take protection.”

“You don't have to worry about that. I'm not sleeping with him.”

“I was referring to your gun.”

Bai couldn't think of anything to say. She nodded while trying to make herself very small.

Elizabeth spoke softly as she turned back to the stove. “Do you want to know what I fear the most?”

Bai hesitated to answer. Their conversation had turned into a minefield, and Bai felt as though she had tennis rackets strapped to her feet.

When she didn't reply, Elizabeth told her anyway. “My greatest fear is that you and Jason will die together, victims of some gang-related vendetta. No mother wants to outlive her children. No parent wants to feel that kind of torment.”

As a mother, Bai understood. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Elizabeth from behind. “I get it,” she said, holding her tightly. “I won't do anything stupid. I won't take any unnecessary risks. But life is uncertain, and I can't let fear dictate how I live. I'm pretty good at taking care of myself, if you haven't noticed.”

Elizabeth sniffed and disentangled herself. “You mean, like the way you took care of yourself in Vancouver? I heard all about your escapade with Jason and how he almost got you killed. I thought you'd learned your lesson.”

She accepted the rebuke. She'd barely managed to avoid an unpleasant death at the hands of a sadist. She just felt grateful Elizabeth wasn't aware of the assassin who'd try to kill her at the airport. One deadly encounter on her scorecard seemed sufficient.

“I'll admit circumstances got a little out of hand in Vancouver. And, I'll admit Jason was partially to blame for the situation. But if I hadn't gone to Vancouver, Jia would have died. I have regrets, but saving that child isn't one of them. If I had to do it all over again, I'd risk my life a hundred times over.”

Elizabeth didn't look happy but nodded her head in understanding. “I can't fault you for saving a child's life. I just want my family safe.”

“That's what I want, too.”

“Good. Then there's someone I want you to meet. You have a date at the Grand Hotel tomorrow at seven for drinks under the name of Kwan. Don't be late.”

“Not again,” Bai lamented.

“There's nothing wrong with meeting someone new. Howard Kwan is a third son, but you can't be choosy. The family is in textiles and quite wealthy. They have factories in China and wholesale outlets here in the States.”

Arranged dates remained the bane of all thirty-plus Chinese. If you hadn't found a mate by the age of thirty, relatives got involved to find one for you, even if they had to troll for one. This wasn't Bai's first blind date, and it probably wouldn't be her last. There were only two ways to avoid the arranged date—death or marriage.

“Is there anything else I should know?” she asked.

Elizabeth looked as if there were more she wanted to say but seemed reluctant to speak. Finally, she shook her head as if to discount her own concerns. “Try not to scare him.”

Chapter 5

The limousine arrived as promised. Jason wasn't inside. The driver, Martin, whom Bai knew well as a friend and trusted triad soldier, opened the rear door for her.

“You look nice, Bai,” he remarked as he gestured toward the open door.

Having taken Lee's advice, she'd worn the red silk. The short cocktail dress barely covered the knife sheathed on the inside of her thigh. The length showed off her long legs. A draped bodice left one shoulder bare and deflected attention from her broad shoulders. A long black silk scarf wrapped her neck, while red and black Ferragamo stilettos flawlessly completed her look.

She turned to Martin. “Where are you taking me?”

A large, blocky man with a talent for taking orders, Martin wore suits too large in a wasted effort to disguise the weapons he carried. When he shook his head, his bulk made him look like an agitated elephant. His shoulders rocked back and forth in denial. “I can't say, Bai.”

She took a step toward him. He took a hesitant step back with a startled look.

“You can't say, or you won't say?” she asked tersely.

“Yes,” he replied while gesturing at the open door of the limousine.

She balked with a scowl on her face, her arms crossed.

He grimaced and pleaded with her. “Please. I've got orders. I just do what I'm told.”

She couldn't fault him for following orders. Jason could be a demanding and unforgiving man. He could also be amazingly kind and generous. Like most people, Martin had learned how to stay in his good graces: he did exactly what Jason told him to do.

“I hate surprises,” she muttered as she slipped into the limo.

“Not nearly as much as I do,” he mumbled as he closed the door.

She settled into the back of the limo where she found another surprise, a bottle of sixty-year-old Macallan's in a Lalique decanter. An ice bucket filled with frozen spring water the size and shape of golf balls sat next to the bottle. The scotch balls would melt more slowly than ice cubes while chilling the alcohol more efficiently.

She eyed the bottle suspiciously. The obvious ploy had all the earmarks of a trap. Jason knew she loved great scotch. He also knew she had a low tolerance for alcohol. Putting her in a comfortable car with deep leather cushions, gentle music, a fine scotch, and nothing else to do was his way of softening her up, a childishly transparent strategy.

Silently rebuking herself for giving in to temptation, she broke the seal on the decanter and made herself a drink. Knowing she was being manipulated didn't alter her appreciation for the fine whiskey. The amber liquid tasted like a combination of vanilla and licorice with heavy peat and a touch of smoke. Smooth and cold, it gently warmed her throat, the heat slowly spreading to her chest and belly.

She sighed and realized that for the first time in weeks she felt truly relaxed. Wrapped in the cocoon of a bulletproof limousine with the most amazing beverage, she luxuriated and raised her glass.

“Xie Xie!”

Two drinks and an hour later she vaguely remembered crossing the Golden Gate Bridge and traveling east off of the freeway into wine country. Eventually, Martin drove up a long lane between rows of grapevines. The limousine came to a stop in a circular motor court paved with brick.

The door opened, and Jason looked in to offer her his hand. She found herself genuinely happy to see him and smiled broadly as she stepped out of the car. After the noise and bustle of San Francisco, the absolute peace of their surroundings felt like a soothing balm.

“Did you enjoy the ride?” he asked.

“Very much, thank you. The scotch was a real treat. Where are we?”

“We're a little south of Healdsburg.”

The sun settled over the coastal range as the sky turned a burnished gold. The warm air smelled of soil, freshly mowed grass, and honeysuckle. She reminded herself that late spring bloomed outside of the city. Most of California prepared for summer heat; San Francisco prepared for summer fog. The inclement weather in the city had something to do with an inversion layer, a term she'd never really understood but which local weathermen never failed to blame.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jason said as he gave her a slow, appreciative glance.

Bai turned in place to show off her outfit and nearly fell as the heels on her stilettos caught on the pavers.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed, catching her as she tumbled into his arms.

She looked up at him in surprise.

He smiled. “I didn't think it was going to be this easy.”

She righted herself and stood to face him with a frown. “I still haven't learned how to walk in girl shoes.”

“I have a solution for that,” he said, and dropped down on one knee to slip the shoes off her feet. “We're dining al fresco tonight. You might as well be comfortable.”

Standing, he took her arm to lead her around a modern brick and clapboard house with large picture windows. The walls of the building seemed to be mostly glass, a feature that would showcase the spectacular views. The expansive home rested on a hill surrounded by vineyards.