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“Gee, they’re loud.” Mrs. Mac shakes her head.
A man’s voice stands out from the noises, almost shouting like he’s had one too many. “The money is on our radar, gents.”
The room erupts once more, and he keeps ranting, “Radar—you get what I mean?”
Why does it sound so familiar?
He could be talking about any kind of radar, but I’ve heard that voice saying the word before. And if I match up that voice with the skinny man holding the woman in yellow—
“Would you excuse me, Mrs. Mac?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” Her laugh is mixed with a challenge. She wants me to admit I’m about to check out the blonde beauty.
“I just need to visit the bathroom.”
I ask a waiter to give me the direction to the gents’ room, and once I know where it is, I take a detour, so I pass the rowdy table from a distance.
“Fuck me…” I mumble to myself.
It ishisvoice! It’s fucking Donovan Fletcher, all right! What’s the chance I meet that stray cat here? With three Chinese men?
General Adler’s remark plays in my head. The Chinese have been relentless in their investment in this part of the world, and perhaps Fletcher is trying to take a piggyback ride.
The seat next to Fletcher is empty—it must be her seat. It was his arm wrapping around that stunning woman’s waist. The man treats his women like takeaways, and his taste is often questionable. But that woman in yellow? Much as I want to deny my curiosity, I do want to see her face.
I trudge down the hall before the stray cat can spot me. As I make a turn into the gents’ room, the adjacent door opens.
Sunshine.
Gold.
Happiness.
The woman who’s starting to bend my mind has just exited the ladies’ room. Her long, blonde hair dances on her equally bright dress.
God have mercy.
Egg.
Butter.
Banana.
Those breakfast items fail to distract me from her beauty. She’s the kind of trouble I avoid—it’s engrained in my system, encrypted, and impossible to unlock. Yet, her smile unsettles me, tugging me as if she has a secret I ought to uncover. And for that, my heart roars like a jet ready for combat, leaving base, flying straight into her.
I don’t know how long I’ve been gawking at her. Or perhaps I’ve only caught a glimpse of her—I don’t know. Time and place are a blur right now. All I know, she’s moving away from me.
“Fuck!” Her voice is muffled, but—really, she swears?
With my heart calling to me like an alter ego, I look into her eyes. Under the dim light, I can only guess that they’re blue.
I continue standing like a fool, but I soon realize she’s in all sorts of predicaments. Her dress strap has gotten hooked onto a protruding piece of wood. The fabric is so delicate the dress falls apart on her when she attempts to set herself free.
She releases a silent gasp.
I’m looking at her eyes.
I swear, I’m looking at her eyes.
