The Beauty of Humanity Movement (35 page)

“Me? No. We met for the first time yesterday morning.”

This only increases T
curiosity, but before he has had a chance to pursue this any further she is standing up and smoothing her trousers over her thighs in a way T
finds a bit too sexy. “If you don’t mind waiting in the lobby,” she says, “I’ll just bring him down.”

T
watches Miss Maggie Lý leave. T
does not have a lot of experience with Vi
t Ki
u, at least not of the up-close-and-personal variety. Until very recently the Vi
t Ki
u were not much welcome. This one has a nice slim body and a musical sway to her hips, though she’s tall for a Vietnamese woman. It must be all that milk in the American diet. This would also explain her perfect teeth. Milk and hamburgers. He wonders what she looks like naked. Whether she strips off all her clothes before crawling into bed with her husband. But no, she is a Miss, not a Mrs. Her boyfriend then. An even dirtier thought.

T
reaches for the sugar cubes and pops a few into his pocket. A waiter catches his guilty eye.

Old Man H
ng has never looked so smart: he is wearing black trousers with some gold piping down the side like he belongs in a military band. Rather than sticking to his head as it normally does, his grey hair is a bit frothy. He smells good, too, if a bit feminine, like flowers. He looks far better for having had this accident, in fact.

T
leaves Miss Maggie with a New Dawn business card and a confident wave, saying, “If you ever need the services of a tour guide in future.” Friends in high places, he thinks. H
ng waves a confident goodbye of his own, saying, “I hope to see you again at breakfast.”

But why does he hope to see her again at breakfast? What the heck is going on?

“H
ng,” says T
as they walk down the hotel steps, “what happened?”