“That one is mine.” Kh?i pointed at a building that was blue glass walls and large white letters on the top that read DMSoft.
She sat up straighter in her chair and inspected it with interest. “Which floor has your office?”
“The top. I share it with others.”
“Like a boss,” she said with a teasing smile, imagining him crammed in a tiny closet while the important people had all the windows.
He aimed a funny smile at her. “Something like that.”
“Lots of the Phils are bosses. One thought I was his employee,” she said for lack of anything better to say.
An unusual stillness settled over Kh?i before he asked, “Did you hear back from the last two?”
“One of them.”
“It was a no?”
She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Do I look like a Schumacher?”
He considered her pensively before focusing on the road again. “Possibly.”
“Maybe these are good for shoemaking,” she said, holding her hands out and grimacing at them. “So ugly.”
“What do you mean?”
She flashed an uncomfortable smile at him and crossed her arms to hide her hands, but he held his palm out.
“Let me see,” he said.
“You’re driving.”
He pulled on her arm until she relented. Instead of inspecting her hand, however, he brought her fist to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I don’t care what these hands do as long as they’re yours.”
It was silly—he was no poet—but his words made her eyes sting with tears. When he put his hand back on the gearshift, she rested hers on top of his. It wasn’t a pretty hand by any means, but it was small compared to his. Did people think they made a good-looking couple?
She relaxed against her seat and watched him on and off for the rest of the drive, recognizing the emotion bursting in her heart. It had been creeping up on her, growing bigger every day, and there was no denying it now. When you felt this way about someone, you didn’t keep secrets from them. No matter how scared she was, she was telling him everything tonight.
? ? ?
Attending a wedding in a tuxedo and bare feet was a first for Khai. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something—his shoes—but Esme appeared charmed. She dug her toes into the sand like a kid as they walked hand in hand across the beach toward the white folding chairs and wedding altar arranged before the water. She wore that same shapeless black dress again, but she was still so pretty she scrambled his brain. It was her smile. She was happy. All was right in the world.
“Only twenty people?” she asked.
There was a brief pause as he shifted his focus from her loveliness to her words. “Yeah, they wanted it small. Stella doesn’t like crowds.” Just like him. “Do you like big weddings?” He’d give Esme an enormous wedding if she wanted, but something like this was more his style. With less sand.
“Small or big, anything is good.” Esme lifted her shoulders in an indifferent way, but then her eyes sparkled as she said, “The flowers, dress, and cake are the fun part.”
He nodded and immediately committed those items to memory. If she agreed to marry him, they’d go to town on flowers, dresses, and cake. Flowers by the truckload. Couture wedding gown. Ten cakes, a hundred, for all he cared. As long as she said yes. Dammit, his stomach was all knotted up.
“They don’t need to be like this,” she added with a smile. “These look expensive.” She pointed to the giant bouquets of white roses, orchids, and lilies decorating the outskirts of the seating area. “Your cousin spent a lot of money on these.”