Copyright: Andyhm. 2020
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.
Venn diagram:
A diagram representing mathematical or logical sets pictorially as circles or closed curves within an enclosing rectangle (the universal set), common elements of the sets being represented by intersections of the circles.
I’ve always been interested in the interplay of relationships between people. The most interesting are those of strangers who have a common focus.
Acknowledgements: This story has been hanging around on my hard drive for over a year. The original was edited by BlackRandl. Since then it has been heavily revised and extended. This version has greatly benefited from Nora Fares editing skills and beta reading of Cheryl, bebop3, Killian and Charlie. It is a much better story because of their efforts, thank you. Any remaining errors are my fault as I can never resist that final tweaks.
Warnings: The story is over 41K words in lenth. There is no BTB and I wll deleate any non constructive comments.
Life as a Venn Diagram.
The woman on the bed stirred and stretched her long limbs with all the gracefulness of a cat. Her eyes flicked open, and the tip of her tongue moistened her lips. She rolled onto her side and leaned across, kissing me. It was a little peck to start, followed by a long, drawn-out kiss that left us both slightly breathless. Her long red hair fell forward, the late afternoon sunlight turning it into a cascading stream of fire that drew an immediate response from my groin.
My fingers traced a path down her back, every inch a tactile map long ago hardwired into my memory. I traveled a path well known until I reached the silky-smooth curve of her ass. She gave a little moan of anticipation as I grasped her ass and pulled her close. She felt my hard flesh pressing into her belly, and I was the one to shiver as her hand reached down and squeezed my shaft.
“Again?” She half asked, half demanded.
I pushed her onto her back and rose above her, eager to possess and dominate my woman again. Looking down at her startling green eyes, I growled my answer. “Yes again, and again, and again; it’s my birthday, love.”
“And I’m your present,” she laughed happily. Still grasping my cock, she guided the tip to the gates of her promised land.
As I pushed forward into her gift, her long legs wrapped around my thighs, urging greater domination. Both of us were needy; our desires heightened by our earlier joining. As I pushed, she rose to meet me. Our world shrank as we strove for that moment of agony and exquisite pleasure all lovers seek.
Her body betrayed her several times on the way to our ultimate goal, until finally, ropes of white fire burst into her, forged us together. Exhausted, I collapsed, totally spent, onto her quivering body.
“Jesus, Mandy, you’re the best lover ever,” I finally managed to gasp out as we rolled apart. “I love you.”
Her murmured “I love you” in reply was a sweet vindication to my ears.
I don’t think I’d ever met a person I was so in tune with. She was everything I’d ever wanted to be in the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Only the rub was, she wasn’t my wife; yes, we were lovers and lived together; the best lover I’d ever known, no doubt about that. But we weren’t married, not that I hadn’t asked her, I had. I repeated the question every year on my birthday, the anniversary of the day we first met.
Earlier that day, after lunch in the pub, I’d popped the question for the sixth time and received the same answer: the politest and most beautiful no. The act of asking and the refusal had now become a bittersweet part of my birthday lunch.
“I love you with all my heart,” Mandy had said as she’d slid the ring box back across the table to me. “But you know my answer. I’m scared that if I agree, then we will ruin all that we have together. You complete me, and I’ve never been happier. Please, Alex, let’s go home. It’s time for me to give you your present.”
I pocketed the empty box as we stood up to leave. It was empty because she wore the ring it was designed to hold, on a chain around her neck. It had been my grandmother’s, a family heirloom, and she wore the matching wedding ring on her right hand. She stated that she was mine, all barring a stupid piece of paper, or so she told me.
The first time I’d popped the question, twelve months to the day from our first meeting, she’d turned me down. She had drawn back from me, and with tears in her eyes, she’d pleaded, “Please don’t ask me that. I love you more than anything. I don’t want to live without you. But I can’t marry you. If I was to say yes, everything would change, and you’d stop loving me. I’d lose you.”
She was weeping uncontrollably, and I barely understood the last couple of words. She was unconsciously tracing her fingertip over the tiny tattoo of three Chinese characters on the inside of her wrist. It was something I’d seen her do whenever she was anxious. I’d asked her about it when we first met, and she’d explained she had the tattoo done as a tribute to her father.
“It’s a Chinese phrase that roughly translates as an honor to my father,” She told me.
I hugged her, and gradually, she relaxed. I reluctantly agreed but vowed to continue asking her. She smiled ruefully. “And one day, when I’ve sorted myself out, I’ll say yes.”
Mandy rationalized her refusal by explaining she didn’t trust marriages. Every one of her family’s marriages had ended badly. Her parents, both siblings, aunts, uncles, and even both pairs of grandparents had all divorced, some more than once. It had made her family tree very convoluted, not that we ever interacted with any of them.
She told me, “It’s in my genes, it’s hereditary. I’m not built to get married. No one in my family can stay married, and I don’t ever want to hurt you.”
Amanda and I first met at a barbecue I was hosting to celebrate my survival of the last 27 years in one piece. I lived in a small village in Sussex, in what used to be my grandmother’s home. I was the sole surviving member of my family. I’d been battered and bruised by life, but I was still in one piece. I was flying solo, a result of finding my fiancée in bed with her boss a few days before our wedding. That had been a year before, and I was still on the lookout for a girl I could trust.
Mandy came as David’s plus-one. She strolled into my life, holding onto his arm. The bottle of beer I was drinking paused halfway to my mouth, half-forgotten as my attention was drawn to the tall, beautiful redhead entering my garden. She glanced nervously around, trying to take in everything in one glance. David, after he spotted me, had brought her over to say hi.
As she drew closer and I could see her clearly, I felt my mouth grow dry. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure of her age; her face seemed ageless; she could have been anywhere from late teens to her late twenties. I later found out she was 26.
“Alex, this is Amanda. We go to the same gym in London,” David said protectively, introducing the woman. He was an old school friend; we’d kept in touch, but we weren’t that close. That was how I justified stealing Mandy from him without any feelings of guilt.
She smiled at me, and I was doubly lost. “I’m Mandy, Amanda Forbes, and I want to thank you for inviting me.” Her voice was as beautiful as she was.
“Alex,” I managed to reply. “I’m Alex James,” and I held my hand out. She ignored it, stepping close and kissing me, then stole my beer, finished the remaining contents in one go.
She arrived at the party as David’s guest and stayed to become my girlfriend and lover. Fifty or so other guests were milling around, but I ignored them all after Mandy arrived. I walked around in a dream, abandoning the grill to talk to her, to be with her. Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for David, her interest in me was as intense. He left early in the evening, after adding a new bruise to my life’s collection.
She stayed the night and then the rest of the weekend. Within a couple of weeks, I was roped into moving most of her clothes from her flat in London to my cottage. She never asked; I was told it would happen, and with the inevitability of a rolling stone, it did. How could a woman acquire so many clothes—and don’t get me started on her shoes!
Mandy’s shoe collection immediately took over the tiny third bedroom, and I grew used to finding her clothes scattered across the furniture.
We’d talked about ourselves that first weekend. She discovered I was a psychologist specializing in child behavioral problems and that I worked at a home for disturbed children. I learned that she worked at a merchant bank and shared a flat in London with an Australian friend from her university days. Intriguingly, her job required her to spend one week in three in Hong Kong.
It was a while before she felt comfortable opening up about the rest of her life. When she did fill in the details, I discovered she had grown up in Hong Kong, the result of her parents’ bitter divorce. Her father had been an accounts manager at the same London office of the merchant bank where she now worked. After the divorce, he’d transferred to their headquarters in Hong Kong. The courts had given the thirteen-year-old Mandy a choice of which parent she wanted to live with, and she chose her father. Unfortunately for her, he had died in a boating accident when she was eighteen.
She’d been living with me a month before she felt confident enough to talk about her past. The trigger had been me describing living with my grandmother, of growing up in the village. It was one of those family-history conversations that all new couples seem to have when the relationship morphs from being less about wild sex and more about emotional lovemaking.
She sat on the sofa, curled up tight against me, and must have felt the time was right. She’d flown back from Hong Kong the day before. It was the second time we’d been apart since we had first met. The realization of how much we’d both missed each other had given her the confidence to open up.
I was an open book; I had given her the potted history of my family tree over that first weekend. I was an only child, and both of my parents had died in a car crash when I was twelve. I’d been brought up by my father’s parents. Granddad had passed away when I was at university, and grandma three years before I met Mandy. I’d been her sole beneficiary, and that included the cottage I lived in. She’d lived long enough to see me graduate and take up a position as a pediatric psychologist. The position had been at a privately run, secure clinic for disturbed children. I was still working at the same clinic, although I had become the clinician in charge.
Aside from that, Mandy had opened up and was telling me about growing up in Hong Kong. Then she started to tell me about her father’s death.
“It was a holiday weekend, and I was too busy being a teenage brat. I didn’t want to do anything with my dad,” she explained. Her words caught in her throat, and it took her a while before she could continue.
“He wanted to go sailing, and I didn’t,” Mandy had said, tears forming in her eyes. “Nobody’s too sure what happened; the upturned boat was found washed up on one of the islands a day later, his body found trapped in the wreckage.
“It was a horrible time. I wasn’t myself after he died. I started making stupid decisions and letting my so-called friends lead me into dangerous situations. My old family was of no help. Mum refused to let me come live with her and her new family. None of my relatives were willing to get involved.”
“No help at all?” I’d asked, shocked at what she was telling me, how could her family abandon her in her hour of need?
“None,” she confirmed. “Fortunately, a friend of my father’s became my white knight. Alan gave me a place to stay while all the legal and financial issues were resolved. It allowed me to complete my final year of school.
“Alan had worked with my father at the bank. They had shared an office when they worked in the London office. They had become close friends over the years. Alan had transferred to the Hong Kong office a year before my parent’s divorce. He was the one who’d suggested that Dad should consider a fresh start in Hong Kong.
“He sorted out all the legal issues with the local authorities, and with the help of a couple of friends, he guided me back from the destructive path I was heading down. He organized Dad’s insurance payout and arraigned for the sale of our apartment for me. He took the money and invested it at the bank for me. It wasn’t a vast amount; Dad had a lot of debts, but it was enough to create a small nest egg for me.”
As she’d mentioned her father’s debts, she’d grown serious and then given me a wry smile.
“I was able to go to university because of all that Alan did for me, giving me a place to live and convincing the bank’s management to offer me a scholarship and an offer of a job after I graduated. I owe him so much.”
“Do you still see him?” I’d asked. There had been a disturbing sense of hero worship to her words I found a little unnerving. I was used to sensing what is not said; it’s part of what I did daily at the clinic. Something about her relationship with Alan had my professional spider senses tingling.
“Of course. He’s my boss, the bank’s general manager in Hong Kong. I live in an apartment above the garage block at his villa.”
I hadn’t been sure what to think; the relationship of a girlfriend and her boss was a sore subject with me. Now she’d admitted living near her boss. “Is he married?” Because if he was, then I’d feel a bit better about the situation.
She’d hesitated before answering, “He was single when Dad died, but he got married about eighteen months later, it was a lovely wedding,” she’d added wistfully.
“Will I get a chance to meet him? He sounds a nice person.”
“It would be nice if both of you could meet, but it’s unlikely as he only makes a couple of fleeting trips back here each year.” She was right; so far, I hadn’t met Alan, which in itself was telling.
A year earlier, Mandy was promoted and was now a senior executive with the bank’s client management team. I had hoped when she told me the news that the promotion would mean she wouldn’t have to travel as much, but I was wrong. Her one-in-three schedule continued to dominate our relationship. After the announcement, I asked if she needed to continue traveling so much.
“I love what I do,” she ruefully admitted. “If I cut down on the travel, I’d probably have to move to another department. I’ve built up an understanding with my most important clients, and in any case, most insist on face-to-face meetings. I earned this promotion by doing what I do, so for the moment, I’m still going to be traveling to Hong Kong. It won’t be forever, I promise, maybe just a couple more years.”
That’s where we were, living with an understanding that we would soon settle down to everyday existence. I was left wondering what she considered was reasonable, and if it included marriage. There was also a niggle at the back of my mind. What was it about Hong Kong that kept drawing her back? Each time I dropped her off at the airport, she would exude a palpable sense of fear and eagerness in equal parts that grew closer to the airport we got.
Every three weeks, as regular as clockwork, she’d take the same Saturday evening flight, arriving early afternoon the next day. Her flight back a week later took advantage of the time difference. She’d leave late on Friday evening, and I’d pick her up early the next morning. A subjective nineteen-hour outbound flight and seven on the way back. A couple of times a year, she’d be gone an extra week, but as we always kept in touch, with daily phone calls and video chats, it didn’t seem so matter.
It had gotten to the point that I was so used to her nomadic life that I barely noticed it anymore. I’d even taken advantage of it, scheduling my on-call time at the children’s home to coincide with the time she was away. It made it easier for me to stay overnight in the call room at the clinic.
Some of the children we treated were hefty teenagers. They came to us with a plethora of issues. Often, they were sent to us as an alternative to judicial incarceration. Their problems included substance abuse and the risk of self-harming antisocial behavior. This was a privately funded establishment, and we mainly catered for the children of the rich and famous. The parents expected the best support for their “misunderstood little angels.”
Fortunately, for every two of the pampered offspring staying at the clinic, we were able to accommodate a child in need from the local community and run outreach clinics at several of the local health centers.
The nature of the cases meant that in addition to the continuous cover by the nursing, orderlies, and security staff, at least one of the four staff Psychologists was required to be available 24/7. One of us would sleep at the clinic each night. Usually, we rotated this on-call duty between us, but when Mandy was away, I would cover most of the week, giving the others a chance to go home to their families at 5 p.m. When Mandy was home, they would do the same for me and cover most of my call.
A consequence of the secure nature of the clinic was that we had to maintain a minimum clinician staffing level at all times. The Psychologists would have to schedule an extended vacation time well in advance, and a security-vetted locum Psychologist was booked to cover the duties. A couple of days away when I wasn’t on call was simple to arrange, but going away for more than a couple of days on a whim was nigh on impossible.
Mandy was understanding; she called it her penance for forcing me to accept her nomadic life. We’d plan our vacations like a military exercise, months in advance. We visited far-flung exotic locations, unashamedly taking full advantage of the flight miles Mandy generated. Those destinations never included Hong Kong, even though I’d expressed an interest in seeing the city where she’d grown up.
“I work in the damn place,” she’d argued. “It’s not somewhere I want to spend a vacation. I’d never be able to relax. I guarantee there’d be an issue, and I’d get the, ‘as long as you’re here, do you think,’ message, and I’d be expected to sort it out.” I was to remember those words.
There’d been a few times I’d toyed with the idea of flying over and surprising her in Hong Kong. The logistics were complicated, and when I’d mentioned it, she’d keep on insisting she’d be too busy to spend enough time with me to justify the trip. She seemed to prefer keeping her two lives far apart, so much so that occasionally I wondered if she had an ulterior motive for keeping me away from her place of business.
One time after an argument about her not willing to reschedule her flight so she could come to a close friend’s wedding, I’d suggested that she had a lover in Hong Kong, and that was the reason she wouldn’t change her schedule. In my defense, I was upset, and it just came out. But honestly, I’d always had the odd niggling doubts about what she got up to on the weeks she was away.
Her response was sharp and to the point. “You are the only lover I’ve had since the first day we met. I don’t want another. I promised you I’d be faithful, and I have been.”
We’d kissed and made up with an impromptu afternoon of sex, but it was always at the back of my mind that she was hiding something from me.
The weeks that Mandy was back in England, she’d try not to let her job interfere with our home life. She’d split her time between her office in London and her home office, trying to limit our time apart. The funny thing was that knowing she was only a few miles away in London was a lot harder to take than knowing she was thousands of miles away in Hong Kong.
Somehow, and I still can’t believe I managed it, I shoehorned a desk into the third bedroom, the one she’d hijacked for her shoes. It amused her that I persisted in calling it our third bedroom, not a walk-in closet. In between the floor-to-ceiling shelves and the clutter of abandoned shoeboxes, I managed to create a home office for her.
It was curious, but I knew next to nothing about what she did for the bank. I’d asked, but all she’d tell me was she looked after the problems other people’s money created.
It had to be something someone at the bank thought was necessary, the bank’s computer security was draconian. Her laptop had military-grade software encryption built-in. In addition to a randomly changing password, the laptop used voice and iris recognition just to open. The bank’s IT department had also installed an encrypted router at the cottage, which only Mandy’s laptop could access.
I once made the mistake of looking over her shoulder at her screen while she was working. Immediately, the open program shut down. She cursed, and then explained when sensitive applications were running, the laptop’s built-in security camera scanned her face every second. If it saw a second person, or she looked away for more than 20 seconds, it would lock and hide the open window.
I had been surprised and initially amused at the degree of security and had jokingly suggested that she was a spy. She laughed and told me the security forces would love to have the degree of protection the bank used.
“The bank guarantees all of its clients’ complete security,” she’d explained. “And the clients I work with demand that level of security. That’s what the bank built its reputation on for over 200 years. I don’t want to be the reason it loses it.”
Then she turned serious, “Alex, all joking aside, the clients I work with are powerful and extremely secretive. They demand my total loyalty, and I’m forbidden to talk about my situation.”
The sudden change in her and the sense of fear in her voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Is what you do dangerous? Are you in danger?” I wanted to know.
Mandy shook her head, “Not if I keep to the rules they set. I’m never to discuss who they are and what I’m working on. I would be endangering both of us if I was ever stupid enough to break the rules.”
“So they are dangerous?”
“Yes, I think you could say that,” agreed Mandy. “But as long as I stick to the rules, I’m safe. Alex, I’m not doing anything illegal, but the people I work with are very, very powerful. Please never ask me to explain as I can’t, and it would put you at risk.”
She must have sensed how disturbing her statement sounded to me because she hugged me and said. “I love you too much to ever do anything that would put you at risk.”
After that, if she was working at home, I’d knock on the door before entering the room.
The evening was drawing in, and even though it was still light outside, the breeze coming through the bedroom window had a chill to it. It was enough that I’d pulled a cover over our sexually replete bodies. It was hunger that finally enticed us from our warm cocoon; we’d both eaten frugally at lunch in anticipation of the promise the rest of the afternoon would bring.
Mandy ordered Indian from the local restaurant and asked for it to be delivered. While we waited, we showered together, something we never got tired of. I dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and went down to the kitchen to get the plates out and open a bottle of wine.
Mandy came down ten minutes later wearing an old sweatshirt of mine, one of several she’d appropriated from me over the years. On her, the hem fell to her mid-thigh. She stepped into the kitchen and sat down, concentrating as she read, and reread a message on her phone; her darkening expression began to concern me.
“Is everything okay?” I asked.
She swallowed and couldn’t meet my eyes. “No,” she said softly, and then glanced at me to gauge my reaction to her next words. “I have to go back to Hong Kong earlier than expected.”
“How much earlier?” I asked, becoming concerned. She wasn’t due back in Hong Kong for three weeks because we were starting our vacation in two days.
“I’m booked for tomorrow’s flight.”
I looked at her in horror; that couldn’t be right! We were flying to the Maldives in two days, our first proper vacation in almost a year. My concern had turned to anger, and I could feel the veins in my temples throbbing.
Up until the past year, her trips to Hong Kong had been as regular as clockwork. But recently, there had been the odd extra trip, and several trips had been extended. She had been very tight-lipped about the reasons for the additional days in Hong Kong. Her last extended trip had been eight weeks ago, and we had ended up having a row when she got back. I’d been forced to give away the theater tickets I’d bought as a surprise.
She’d promised that it wouldn’t happen again, and her next two trips had passed without an issue. Now it was starting up again, and I wasn’t happy. She was about to go back on her promise, and this time, I wasn’t going to accept the situation.
“NO, damn it, no,” I snapped back. “We are going away. We’ve had this vacation planned for months. Call them back and tell them it’s not possible.”
“I can’t, Alex; I have to go, we can just reschedule our vacation.”
“That’s not possible; you might be able to change your vacation dates at will, but I can’t. My cover at the clinic is all set, and it’ll take months to reschedule it.” My voice was slowly growing louder, and Mandy was looking worried.
I must have still been harboring a sense of resentment over her earlier rejection of my annual marriage proposal. That had to be the reason why her statement caused me to overreact. Expecting that I would accept her sudden change of plans was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
“I can’t fucking change the dates, and if I cancel at the last moment, then we lose the money,” I snapped. “And it’ll be at least three months before I can book another vacation; the others have their plans as well.”
I was furious, and she knew it and knew why. We argued about very little, but broken promises were one thing that was guaranteed to start one.
“I have to go. Please, Alex, you need to understand I don’t have a choice in the matter.” There was an urgency and a sense of dread buried in her words, which, for a second, caused me to pause.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t understand. It seems to me that you constantly put the bank and yourself before our relationship. You disappear every three weeks, and I miss you, hell, you could have asked to stay in London after your last promotion, but you didn’t. Christ, you won’t even marry me.” I almost regretted the last part, but then realized I didn’t.
She looked at me as though I’d grown horns and a tail. “Alex, I would if I could. I’ve never loved anyone as much as you, but I thought we were happy like this. I thought the proposal was one of your little jokes after all this time, a part of your birthday ritual.”
I shook my head, amazed that she thought it a joke. The joke was on me. “It’s no joke to me, each year I die a little bit more when you say no.”
I was about to say more, but the doorbell rang. The food had arrived. I left her standing in the kitchen, her mouth open in shock, as I went to collect the food from the delivery girl. I paid, giving her a good tip.
I closed the door and leaned back against the hard, unyielding wood, the bag of food on the floor by my feet. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm down. Did Mandy think that all my proposals had been an elaborate game? Did she hold me in such low regard that our vacation meant so little to her? From the second she’d walked down the stairs, her body language was like that of a prisoner walking to their execution. She had to have known how I’d react, and there hadn’t been enough time between me going downstairs and her first telling me she needed to go for her to do more than read a text or listen to a message. She’d made no effort to call Alan and argue her case for not going. She seemed to accept her fate without a discussion, regardless of the damage it caused.
No job, I felt, was worth destroying a relationship, not hers or mine. I’d even offered to pack up and move to Hong Kong if she wanted to take a permanent position rather than carry on with her nomadic lifestyle.
I picked up the bag and returned to the kitchen. The room was empty, and I almost threw the food on the table. I guess where she’d be, and I was right, the door to the office was closed, and I could hear her raised voice. For once, I didn’t feel guilty about listening to her conversation. I moved closer to listen, but the door was solid oak, and I couldn’t make every word.
“…can’t, you knew…”
“plans. What so bloody important?”
…
“Fucking hell Alan, this isn’t what we agreed…”
I placed my ear against the wood, and that helped me hear her side of the conversation.
“I know what I promised both of you. I’ve held up my side of the bargain. I’m paying my debts; now you need to hold up your side.”
…
“We all agreed I’d earned the right to be allowed to live my own life, and that’s what I’m trying to do. Do you understand the problem you are causing?”
…
“I know what he planned. I told you it wasn’t convenient, and I wouldn’t be there. I thought you both understood.” Her voice dropped, and I could make out nothing of the rest of her conversation until she moved closer to the door, and I heard some of the last parts of her conversation.
“… and I miss you, too, Alan, but I’ve kept…”
“you need to keep yours. You should…”
“the paperwork sorted out…”
“ago. Look, I’m…”
“to go and…”
“I can do to put out the fire you’ve lit.”
I hurried downstairs and sat at the kitchen table and stared at the empty plates. Mandy took a while to appear; she hadn’t changed her clothes as I’d half expected her to. She sat down opposite me; for a moment, she played with her phone before setting it down carefully.
“What can I do to make you understand I don’t have a choice?” Mandy said, desperation written across her face. “I have to be in Hong Kong by Sunday evening; I can’t say no.”
You can, I thought, but her posture, her tone, was telling me that she believed she had no choice in the matter. That was at odds with the strong woman I knew she was.
“And I need you to honor the promise you made to me, and be on the plane Monday,” I responded; given all that had happened over the past few months, I needed her to understand I needed her to make a stand. It was coming down to her job or our relationship. It was time to roll the dice and hope I didn’t roll snake eyes.
“I have to know what’s more important to you: the bank or us.”
She buried her head in her hands. “You don’t know how much I want to go with you, but I just can’t,” she said, her voice muffled and drawn. She looked up and said hesitantly and with more than a hint of desperation, “If I agree to marry you next year, will you let me go?”
Jesus Christ, that was a throw of the dice I hadn’t been expecting. I looked at her in disbelief; after all these years, she wanted to bribe me with the one thing she knew I desired. It was wrong; this was something she should want to do, not hold it out to me as a consolation prize for acquiescing to her plans. I didn’t have to say anything to her; my expression said it all. My feeling of hurt was like a leaden lump in my stomach.
Her face showed her anguish and the fear that she’d stepped over the line. She whispered, “I’m sorry, Alex, that was a stupid thing to say. Please don’t hate me, but I’m desperate for you to understand. I wish I could tell you why I have to go, but I just can’t risk your safety.”
“That’s not good enough; I’ve been asking you to marry me for years, and now you hold it out to me like a sick bribe.”
“That wasn’t what it was supposed to be.”
“It’s what it sounded like. Shit, for years, I’ve not questioned the hold your damn bank seems to have over you. Now for once, you are going to tell me why you are willing to put their needs before us.”
“I can’t,” she implored. “All I can tell you is that Alan wouldn’t have demanded I return unless there was a real reason.”
“Then it seems we are at an impasse,” I said regretfully. “You’re going to go and can’t even tell me how long you will be gone.”
Tears were running down her face as she pleaded with me to wait. “I could be back in a few days. I can book our flights later in the week, fuck, the bank can pay for them. We could still get to enjoy a fair bit of our vacation.”
“Could be, maybe, that’s just not good enough, Mandy,” I pointed out. “There’s no way I’m going to wait here on the vague off-chance you’ll return before I’m supposed to be back at work.”
I sighed. She wasn’t leaving me a choice. If I let her go without a fight, Alan would know that, regardless of her wishes, all he had to do was snap his fingers, and she’d come running. It had been getting worse recently; Mandy needed to understand the game she was playing had consequences. We’d had arguments in the past when her job had interfered with our relationship, and ultimately in each case, I’d backed down. This time was different; a line had to be drawn in the sand.
I shook my head, “I’m sorry, Mandy, not this time. I’ll be flying to the Maldives as planned, and it’s up to you if it’s with or without you. It’s your choice.”
I was at a loss, not knowing what else to say. Even after all that had been said, I didn’t get a sense that Mandy fully realized just how serious I was. All I had left to try was one last throw of the dice, a last attempt to shock her from the path she was heading down.
“If you are on the flight tomorrow night,” I said, “Then it will be without my grandmother’s rings. I don’t want you to take them with you, and I think it would be best if you move back to your flat in London on your return.” I held out my hand palm uppermost.
Her hand flew to the ring on the chain around her neck, and she glanced down at the ring on her finger. “Please don’t make me do that,” she whimpered, a new flood of tears coursing down her face.
I said nothing. There was nothing left to say, either she would or she wouldn’t. Then suddenly, she stood up; for the first time this evening, I saw resolve was written hard across her face. Her chair was toppling back to land on the floor with a loud crash.
“Don’t you damn well move,” she demanded. “I need to make a call.”
She was halfway out of the room when she paused to say. “I’m not giving up on you or your rings without a fight.”
But who were you fighting, I wondered? Was it me, Alan, or yourself? Upstairs, the door to the office slammed shut behind her. I guessed she was calling Alan again. The fact she wouldn’t make the call in my presence was an ever-present reminder of the secrecy that invaded her life.
I couldn’t recall one time she’d ever received or made a call to her erstwhile mentor and remained within my hearing. Christ, I hated that man. I’d never met him, yet it appeared that he ruled our lives like a puppet master. He was pulling the strings, and Mandy and I were dancing like marionettes to his tune.
Sitting at the kitchen table, I considered my options. Unfortunately, there weren’t many left; I’d boxed myself into a corner. All the niggling doubts about our relationship I’d carefully been sweeping under the carpet for years had reached critical mass and were bursting to the fore. For the better part of four months each year, her life was a closed book to me. She was a voice or a face on a screen, telling me what she thought I wanted to hear. I had no idea what her life was like at her other home. I hadn’t even seen a photograph. Boyfriends? Girlfriends? Lovers? All were a possibility; I just hadn’t a clue.
Would we survive this? Well, what happened on Monday would tell. If she wasn’t on the plane, then I would know. This incident was the last in a long line of issues that had dotted the relationship. The gut-wrenching thing was, I loved her. I had from the moment I first saw her, and regardless of the crisis we found ourselves in, I still did. I was no longer sure I could live with her if she continued to put her job and Alan before our relationship.
The food had turned into a cold mess in the containers; I no longer had an appetite, so I placed them in the fridge in case Mandy would still be hungry. I poured myself a glass of wine and paused at the foot of the stairs. Nothing seemed to be stirring, and I couldn’t be bothered to listen at the door again. I went out into the patio that ran the length of the rear of the cottage.
The wind had dropped, and the evening was still pleasantly warm. I sat down on my grandmother’s old swing chair and watched the last of the sunset as the band of color faded away. The wine tasted harsh as I swallowed, a bitter draft to drink as I waited to hear my fate from the woman I loved.
The night was dark, and a myriad of stars shone down. The evening grew chilly, and I shrank into myself. Minutes? Hours? I’m not sure how much later Mandy appeared carrying two mugs of Irish coffee. She’d pulled on a pair of shorts but still wore the same shirt. She sat down beside me and offered a mug to me. The combination of coffee and alcohol burned as I sipped, the heat a welcome change to the chill I’d been feeling.
For a long, long moment, we sat and sipped in silence, neither wishing to be the one to start. Finally, and very quietly, Mandy said, “I’ve confirmed my flight for tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” was all I could say. I’d guessed this was what would happen, but I’d been allowed to hope, hadn’t I? I wanted to cry and scream at the end of our relationship, but I couldn’t; all I had was politeness to fall back on.
“Do you want me to take you to the airport?” I asked. “I’ll pack up your stuff and have it ready for you when you get back.”
“You don’t need to pack my stuff, I’m not going anywhere, I do need you to take me to the airport, and then I’d like you to get on the same plane and come to Hong Kong with me.”
I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but nor did I understand her change of heart. Countless times, I’d offered to meet up with her in Hong Kong, and each time she’d found some reason to reject my proposal.
I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it. What the hell was I supposed to say, other than it felt like she was doubling down on her offer of marriage: another throw of the dice to make me accept the situation.
“Say something,” she said, breaking into the drawn-out silence between us.
“Why now?” I wanted to know.
“Because I know if I go on this trip without you, I’m going to lose you, and I can’t do that.”
“I’m not sure that you haven’t already. Something has to change,” I murmured.
“I’m trying to sort it out.” She moved closer and rested her head on my shoulder. “Hug me; I’ve just had the mother of all rows with… Alan. It felt worse than arguing with my father.”
I rested my arm on her shoulder, pulled her close, and she gave a sigh of relief. Then in a more business-like tone, she said, “Alan has agreed to book a ticket and one of the best suites at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel for you. The bank’s paying; it’s the least they can do for fucking up our vacation.”
It sounded too perfect, and then I picked up on one part of her statement. “A suite for me, not us?” I questioned.
She hesitated, never a good omen. “Alex, I’ll be staying at my apartment,” she admitted. “It’s the one concession I had to agree to. Alan wants me to have no distractions while I sort out the mess; the client is demanding I concentrate on his problem to the exclusion of all others.”
“So I’m a problem now. Will I see you at any time?”
“Of course.” But somehow, her statement lacked conviction.
I sat back, my thoughts a swirling mess. I’d be trading one lonely vacation for another, laced with more heartache. I didn’t see the point. “No, I’m going to stick with our original plan,” I said regretfully, and I heard her catch her breath and start to cry.
“At least there, I’ll be able to accept I’m on my own. I’ll know where I stand, and just maybe I’ll get to relax on the beach, to try and do some of the things we planned.”
Mandy whimpered, but I ignored her, “What have I got to look forward to in Hong Kong?” I asked. “Nothing, I’ll have the dubious pleasure of sitting around in a hotel or going sightseeing on my own: all the time knowing how close by you are, a bitter reminder of what could have been. Most likely, I’ll only get to see you when it suits Alan or your mystery client, which sounds like never! That would be a sick form of Chinese torture. No, what I want is for you to keep your commitment to us, to me. I have a vacation booked, and I intend to do my best to enjoy it, with or without you.”
It was her turn to slump back in the chair. “And if I were to promise to be with you every evening?”
“Don’t promise me something that I doubt you’d be able to keep, and why should I accept just the evenings? In the Maldives, we would have been together all day and night.”
“But I love you,” she said softly.
“I know you do, and no matter what, I still love you, but it seems you love your job more, and I don’t think I can take being an afterthought anymore. I’m tired of all the secrecy, and the lack of trust, never knowing what you do when you’re over there.”
She sat beside me and pulled her legs up, hugging her knees to herself. “But I do tell you.”
“No, you might mention you’ve gone out for a drink or a meal, but never where, or with whom. Christ, I don’t even have your address, just your UK phone number, and that goes to voicemail half the time.”
She gently shook as she cried, little sobs escaping her lips. I couldn’t tell, was she crying for herself or us? All I could do was keep my arm around her and wonder what it was that Alan had over her that would make her react like this.
Finally, the sobbing stopped, and she used the tail of the shirt she was wearing to wipe her eyes. She took several deep breaths and stood, upsetting the chair, making it slide across the floor with the violence of her movement.
She started to move away, then stopped, her fingers drumming on the back of her phone. Again, she headed towards the back door, then paused and looked back at me, studying my expression. She came and stood in front of me. She took hold of one of my hands, while the other pulled her phone from her pocket.
She dialed a number, “Listen and don’t interrupt me,” she said into the phone when the call was answered. “You have two choices; actually, you have three! First, I go on my planned vacation with your blessing and a promise not to disturb us. Second, I stay with Alex in the suite, or he stays in my apartment, I don’t care which. I only work for a couple of hours in the mornings. Or lastly, I resign, and you know the ramifications of what that would mean to all of us, but I’m willing to risk it. It’s Alex’s vacation time, and I’m going to do my best to spend as much time with him as possible and make sure he enjoys it.” There was an odd tone to her last statement that worried me.
She paused, listening to the other end for a few seconds, then added. “Regardless of which one you decide on, all our previous arrangements are over. You need to do what you promised to do. Call me back when you’ve made your choice.”
She ended the call, not giving the person at the other end any chance to reply. Logically, it had to be Alan, but she hadn’t mentioned a name, so that it could have been someone else.
She sat down beside me without looking at me and said, “There are a few things I need to tell you about growing up in Hong Kong, but right now is not the best time. What you need to do now is take me to bed and finish off what you started this afternoon. I suspect Alan will decide to stick his heels in and fuck me over, so I’ll end up resigning. If I’m going to get fucked, it better be by my lover.”
I didn’t get a chance to point out the rather significant flaw I saw in the options she’d proposed as her phone started to ring. It had been less than a minute, which startled her. She looked at the caller’s identity and raised her eyebrows. “That was a lot faster than I expected.”
She answered the call. She held the phone to her ear closest to me, and I could hear both sides of the conversation. I don’t know if she did it to prove to me her sincerity, or she just forgot, as this was the first time she’d ever taken a call from either Alan or the bank without stepping out of my hearing.
Alan’s voice was so loud and harsh, I could have probably heard him from the other side of the patio. “Amanda, don’t ever call me and make threats like that again.”
“They weren’t threats Alan; I was just giving you the options. It’s your choice which one you choose.”
“Christ, you know how important the Sung’s are to the bank. The Patriarch demands nothing less than your full attention, and he won’t understand your infatuation with your lover. Not with your history.”
What history? Another question I’d be adding to the list.
“Come on, Alan; it’s a simple choice, one, two, or three. Tell me which one.”
“No,” I interrupted and told her. “There aren’t three options; only two. It’s either the first or the last; the middle one is not an option I’ll accept. I told you I wouldn’t accept timesharing you on our vacation.”
“I’m putting you on hold,” she told Alan roughly, and did so, dropping the phone to the cushion beside her, and cutting off his indignant “Wait.”
She gave me an anguished look, “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“I tried to, but you weren’t listening. You were so fixated on resolving all your issues and making everyone happy,” I said.
I took her hands in mine, hoping she’d understand. “I told you I wasn’t willing to sit around a hotel in the vain hope of seeing you at some point. You’ve known for years that I’d like to come to Hong Kong with you. But you were the one who always said no, and why? Because you said, you wouldn’t be able to spend enough time with me, so what’s changed? Nothing that I can see, except that now it suits you. Am I supposed to sit around a hotel and be happy? I don’t think so. What you are proposing isn’t my idea of a vacation.”
“What if I promise you it will only be a couple of hours a day, at most, and I’ll even let you pick them. If I’m lucky, I should be able to wrap it up in three or four days. I want the chance to show you the places I grew up in and let you meet some of the people I grew up with.”
“I’d love to meet your friends and see those important places. But somehow, I can’t see Alan or your client letting you keep to your promise.”
Her voice was cold and hard when she replied. “Oh, they will; they, of all people, owe me that.” Her tone softened, “I won’t lose you.”
I’m not sure that you already haven’t, I thought. She was painting me into a corner. Alan’s only logical choice was the one I was taking off the table.
“You’re not giving me much of a choice, are you,” I said. “Alan’s going to choose the Hong Kong option; it’s the only one he can. So either I lose you now, or in a few days when he forces you to break your promise.”
“I won’t let him,” but even I could hear the hint of uncertainty.
I knew if I acquiesced to Alan’s demand, I was just delaying the inevitable, but sometimes you need to take a leap of faith, and this was mine. I loved her, and I needed to show her that. I could end up regretting it, but I said. “I’ll go to Hong Kong with you if that’s the option he chooses.”
She began to relax and moved to pick up her phone, but stopped when I continued. “But there have to be some ground rules. I’m going to hold you to your promises—no separate accommodation. You only work for a couple of hours a day, and never in the evening. I’m going to give you a week, that’s all. And you need to start telling me the truth and stop keeping secrets from me. As soon as you don’t keep one, or you don’t answer one of my questions, I’ll be taking the first flight home.”
She looked like she was caught between a rock and a hard place. “I will keep every promise I can make, but remember, I can’t answer any questions about the bank or its customers.”
“That fair enough, but I don’t want you to use the excuse that someone’s a customer to avoid answering a question. You could say anybody was a customer, and I wouldn’t know any better.”
She took a deep breath and said, “I promise the only questions I won’t answer will be about the bank workings or a specific customer’s dealings with the bank, will you accept that?”
I nodded, and she gave me no time to retract my decision. She picked up the phone, taking it off hold.
“Alan,” she said, putting the phone to the same ear.
He almost shouted down the phone. “Don’t you ever put me on hold again, Amanda!”
“Alan, I’m sorry, but Alex and I had an issue we needed to resolve. The second option is back on the table with a couple of nonnegotiable modifications. I’ll work on the Sung clan account for a couple of hours each morning, but just the morning, and for no longer than a week. After the week, the bank’s going to fly Alex and me to Bali, and we will be staying in the villa the bank owns. I don’t care if it’s already booked, you will make sure it’s free for us.”
“Damn it, Mandy, you are holding me to ransom; you know the Sung’s will only deal with you. I don’t have a choice; I’ll take your second option.”
His voice grew quieter, and now I could barely hear him. “I’ve never regretted anything, and I hope you don’t; we made the best of a terrible situation, but all the same, I’m sorry.”
She gave me a guilty look and moved the phone to her other ear. “Alan, we both did what we had to do. We will be there Sunday afternoon, and I’m staying with Alex at the Mandarin, and it had better be one of their best suites. Don’t even think of stiffing him on the ticket, he’ll be sitting with me.”
She smiled at me, then she seemed to have another thought. “Alan, canceling our vacation is going to cost Alex a lot of money; they won’t refund any of the money he’s paid out on our vacation at this late date. So you are going to cover it, I want you to transfer ten thousand into Alex’s account; that should cover it. And don’t forget to arrange a villa.”
…
“No, sterling, not Kong dollars, you tight ass.”
She finished the call and turned to me. “Now, where were we?”
She grabbed my face between her hands and kissed me hard and savagely, stopping only to breathe.
“I’m going to take you back to our bed and prove to you just how much I love you.” She reached down to press her hands against the bulge in my jeans. “Fuck, I’m so yours, I want this thing in me. I’ve hurt you, and you need to punish me.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me upstairs.
We barely made the flight. Mandy had been desperate to prove to me how much she loved me. Her first step had been to strip and lay across my knees, insisting I smack her until her buttock cheeks glowed. Then she fucked me until my body cried surrender. We hadn’t fallen asleep until after the sun had risen. Her loud alarm had dragged us back to the real world at midday, and we’d both needed the healing powers of the shower to begin functioning as human beings again.
Mandy usually traveled light, with hand baggage. She had all the clothes and toiletries she needed at her apartment. This time, she was throwing extra items into a second bag while I was trying to pack one with my stuff. My flight bag, an old backpack, held my MacBook Air and iPad. I added my camera and accessories, and a couple of books for the flight.
Usually, when I took Mandy to the airport for her flight, the journey would take me at least one and a half hours. Today, I was going to need to park the car, I guessed that it would add an extra hour. Our flight was scheduled to leave at six-thirty, and you were supposed to be there a couple of hours earlier to clear the security checks.
It was three before we left the cottage, Mandy was on her phone attempting to check us in. “Nice, we’ve got tickets in first,” she said. Then she called the British Airways Gold member help desk and found out that we could use the valet service to park the car. She’d racked up so many miles that she’d acquired a gold status for life several years before, and was now on the highest tier. It’s incredible how much that status level, plus being booked in first class, will do to cut the red tape.
Of course, that monstrosity, better known as the M25, lived up to its reputation, and it was almost five-thirty before I drew up outside terminal 5. There were a couple of BA representatives and a car valet waiting for us. In one carefully orchestrated movement, the valet took responsibility for the car. The BA reps gave us our boarding passes and dealt with our checked bags, and then escorted us through the security checks.
We weren’t the last passengers to board, but almost. There were only a couple of other passengers seated in first class when we were shown to our seats, 3E and F. The cabin attendant lowered the partition that separated the two seats, and we settled down.
Mandy took my hand and smiled, “Don’t think this is the way I normally travel, I’m not usually in first,” she admitted. “Most of the time, I’m in business.”
Around us, the cabin crew was preparing the cabin for takeoff. We were offered a drink, and we both chose a glass of Champagne.
“How come we are in first class?”
“I think Alan’s feeling a bit guilty. It looks like he had the girls in the office book me a first-class seat. I suspect he was going to book you in economy; that’s why I told him to get you a seat in the same class as me.”
“Well, I’m not complaining.” I stretched across to kiss her.
The flight took off on schedule, and before long, the seatbelt signs were switched off, and we were at our cruising altitude. The early part of the flight followed a fairly usual pattern. We were fed and watered, and then the lights were dimmed, casting the cabin into deep shadow.
I had reclined my seat into a comfortable position and was considering opening a book when Mandy eased herself onto my lap and curled up against me.
“Before you say anything, I asked the stewardess if it was okay, and she said yes,” she said in a soft, giggly voice. She fiddled with my seat belt. “But I’m supposed to strap us down in case of turbulence.” She clicked the catch closed and tightened the strap.
She reclined the seat a bit further, then wriggled slightly to get comfortable and relaxed. Or tried to; it seemed to me that I could still feel her tension, and when I looked at her, she was staring into my eyes, and she looked scared.
“Please remember I love you,” she whispered her body language, indicating that this was the start of a conversation she’d hoped to never have with me.
“I think I’ve known that since that first day,” I said, trying to reassure her and kissing her. Our mouths joined, and for a brief moment, I felt her relax as I sought to confirm my last words with deeds.
She smiled as we broke apart and quietly said, “I guess you noticed I wasn’t a virgin when we met.”
“Telling me, ‘that was the best fuck ever,’ the first time might have given the game away.”
“Yes, well …” and she blushed. “I know I’ve never really told you much about that side of growing up in Hong Kong, have I? I guess now is as good a time as any to cover the salient points.” She gave a little giggle, but her body betrayed her. It was as tense as a spring.
“Are you sure?”
She took her time answering me. “Yes… No, I’m scared of what you’ll think of me and what I did. Shit, let me get the easy part over first. Before my father died, I’d had a couple of boyfriends, just schoolgirl crushes, and neither were serious, heavy petting was the most we did. So I was still very naïve; that all changed after my father’s death. I had two lovers; one didn’t last long; the other was a long-term affair.”
She stopped, so I prompted her with quiet, “So how old were you?”
She hesitated and then said, “I was almost 18 and a half when I slept with the first of them. I didn’t start my affair with the second for another year. It was a horrible time for me; at first, I was frightened and lost, and then I was involved with an older man, and for a few months, I felt safe as his companion, his lover.”
The last few words she said so softly I could barely hear her over the rumblings of the jet engines. It was almost like she was trying to convince herself of the truth in her words.
“This was Alan?” I asked, fully expecting the answer to be yes. I’d always thought that they’d had a history; this seemed to prove it.
She surprised me; she shook her head, “No, it wasn’t, it was an older Chinese gentleman, a longtime acquaintance of my father. He stepped in to help me out after all the confusion surrounding my father’s death. For those first few months, he kept me safe and dealt with a number of the problems Dad had left me. I slept with him because I needed someone to comfort me. I think he loved me, but I’ve never been too sure. But he was married, and the affair couldn’t last, so he ended it. Yet we’ve stayed good friends ever since, and I owe him so much.”
“Who was the second one, then?”
“The second had always been around, and when my first lover had to end things with me, he took care of me, and ultimately we became lovers.” Again she paused, as though she feared I’d turf her off my lap in anger.
When I didn’t, she continued, her voice broken and hesitant. “I was his companion and lover for several years. When I was away at university, I would fly back to be with him for the vacations. He paid my bills and rented an apartment for me, so I didn’t have to stay in the dorms. I was still living with him when I met you, but by then, it was more for convenience than anything else. I’d known for a long time I didn’t love him. Being with him was more of a comfort thing for both of us; I guess you could say we were friends with the occasional benefit.”
Again she paused to gauge my reaction; sensing nothing, she continued. “I called him the day after I met you and told him it was over. He didn’t make a fuss; he told me he’d sensed I was ready to move on and gave me his blessing. When I flew back, the first thing I did was move into a new apartment. I promise you I’ve never slept with another man since I met you.”
“Why are you telling me about them now? They were in your past and are irrelevant to our future. You’ve never worried about meeting any of my old girlfriends, so why would I care about yours?”
“Because you didn’t have the same kind of relationship I had with them. Now there’s a good chance you’ll meet one or both of them over the next few days. I don’t want you to be blindsided by them.”
I’d been looking at the top of her head as she’d been speaking; now she raised it, and I could see the tears in her eyes. “Neither of them has done anything to hurt me, but unfortunately, they are both the type of people who will take great pleasure in ensuring you know about my relationship with them.”
I’d long ago guessed she’d had issues in her past, over and above her father’s death. She’d never been able to hide it from me entirely, so I wasn’t completely surprised by what she was saying.
“I suppose this is one of the reasons you’ve never been keen on me coming to Hong Kong, isn’t it?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“And the other reasons?”
“Complicated.” And her expression told me to let it go for the moment.
“What changed? Why now?” I asked.
“I had the choice of continuing to try to hide my past and losing you or throwing caution to the winds and beg you to join me. It was easy but a very frightening choice to make.”
“But why did you carry on working in Hong Kong when you had to know something like this would occur sooner or later? You had several opportunities to move full time to the London office. Why didn’t you take one?”
“That’s a different issue, a very complicated issue, and I don’t have permission to tell you.”
This time when she paused to see how I was taking her explanation and wasn’t happy with what she saw, she knew I was pissed at her.
“How complicated could it be
Her voice was soft but desperate, “There’s nothing I can do unless I’m permitted to tell you. I promise I will ask, but it’s directly linked to the bank and a number of their customers. I’ve never denied you anything, but this is one thing I just can’t talk about.”
“Is it linked to why you were so adamant that you had no choice after Alan called?”
“Yes, but again, unless I’m given permission, that is all I can say, please don’t ask me anymore.”
There wasn’t much more either of us could say, so I told her I understood and wasn’t happy, but agreed and felt her relax in my arms, I was convinced there was far more to this, but this wasn’t the time or the place to pursue it.
For years I’d thought I understood this woman. We’d had a slightly odd lifestyle, but we had always made up for the missing week in the other two together. Yet it seems she had a hidden past, a pair of lovers. Although why she thought I’d be upset to find out she’d had lovers before me was difficult to understand. She had been a beautiful 26-year-old when I met her, and even more attractive now. No one in their right mind would have thought she hadn’t had lovers in her past. I was just grateful I was the one she’d decided was her future.
I kissed her on the top of her head. I was frustrated with the situation, but that didn’t mean I loved her any less. She raised her head and looked at me with her sleepy eyes.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I’m sorry I caused all of this,”
“You didn’t cause this; it’s all my fault. But in a way, I’m not sorry, as I’ll finally get to show you my other world. Where I grew up, my school, my favorite places, and restaurants. I’ll be able to introduce you to my Hong Kong friends, and I’ll finally get to be a tourist; it’s been ten years since I’ve had the opportunity to spend a day exploring the place.” She smiled and murmured, “Oh, and I do love you, too.”
“I’m going to enjoy having my own tour guide.”
She grinned and settled down. I tucked my hand under the waistband at the back of her jeans and pulled her closer; she sighed and soon was asleep. I drifted off, and that was how we spent the next few hours of the flight until the cabin lights announced it was time for the breakfast service.
Mandy used the restroom to freshen up and change into a dress, a gorgeous green silk dress I’d never seen before. It fitted her like a second skin, the hem falling to her mid-thigh. I felt like a tramp beside her. I tidied up the best I could in the restroom and cursed my lack of foresight, not having packed a change of clothes in my carry-on bag.
There was a scratch on the door, and Mandy softly called out my name. I opened it, and she slid in beside me, locking the door behind her. I had to give it to BA; their restrooms in first class were not the pokey little cubby holes I’d experienced on my previous flights. There was room to swing the proverbial cat in this one.
“I come bearing gifts,” she giggled softly.
I raised my eyebrows suggestively, which caused her to snort in amusement.
“Idiot,” she whispered and kissed me. “I knew you’d forget to pack a change of clothes for the flight.” She passed me the small bag she was holding. “I packed some things for you; there’s a clean shirt, a pair of boxers, and a small toiletries kit in there.”
“Now I know why I love you.”
“It’s my mega brain, isn’t it?”
I slid my hand under the hem of her dress and cupped her ass cheek. “Close enough.”
She shivered under my touch, putting her arms around the back of my head, to draw my head down. She kissed me as though the fate of her world depended on it. When we separated, she saw the unasked question in my eyes.
“I’m worried,” she admitted, “I’m scared that I’ve damaged our relationship beyond the point of recovery. I never wanted my past to come between us.”
“It hasn’t; nothing you did will ever change how I feel about you,” I quickly reassured her. I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve always fantasized about fucking you on a plane.”
She gave me a startled glance, and then her expression turned predatory. She licked her lips, “We’ll never get a better chance,” she whispered.
My grin grew wider as she deftly undid my jeans and slid my boxers down my hips. She knelt and kissed the crown of my cock where it pushed out from the waist of my boxers. Her tongue swirled across my hard flesh, collecting the drop of pre-cum as payment.
“Ohh, Mandy,” I gasped.
“Shush, not so loud, help me out here, I don’t want to mess up this dress.”
She turned her back to me, and I unzipped her dress. She shrugged her shoulders, stepping out of it, and hung it on the hook on the door. Her lingerie was expensive, silky soft, and almost transparent. I picked her up and sat her on the counter and pulled her tiny panties down until they hung around one ankle like a bangle.
There was a sheen of moisture on her pussy lips, and she gave me a look of anticipation and dark desire.
“Fuck me hard and fast,” she demanded.
I grasped my cock and pressed it against her entrance. She moaned in anticipation, then bit down on my shoulder to stop crying out as I thrust in one savage motion.
“Fuck,” I gasped. She was so wet and hot.
“Oh Christ, don’t stop,” she groaned, as, after a couple of hard thrusts, I pulled almost out and paused with the head stationary between her plump lips, teasing her. She wrapped her legs around my waist and grasped my ass with her hands, trying to pull me in.
“You evil bastard, fuck me. I need to come so badly,” she whimpered.
I rammed back into her, and we fucked hard and fast, her whole body shaking as I thrust into her. This was never going to be subtle lovemaking; it was the best type of glorious animal sex, no quarter given or expected.
She came, her face screwed up with the effort to keep quiet, her fingernails digging bloody gouges in my ass. I spurted long and deep into her as I came with her, shuddering as I tried to pump every last drop into her waiting body.
“Ohh, Fuuuck, that was fucking amazing,” she whispered and ran a scattering of feather-light kisses across my face and down my neck.
At some point, I’d pulled her bra from her, and it lay beside her. I kissed her neck and then her nipples.
She moaned and then groaned in disappointment as I pulled out of her. Her groan turned into a gasp of concern as cum dripped down her leg.
“Quick, pass me some towels.”
While she wiped up the evidence of our coupling, I quickly used a wet wipe to clean up and then changed into the fresh shirt and boxers she’d given me. She pressed a liner into place on her panties and pulled them up.
She grimaced, “This is the bit about a quickie they never tell you about.”
I smiled and passed her dress to her, and once she’d pulled it on, I zipped it up for her. She quickly tidied herself up, then kissed me before slipping out of the restroom.
I waited a moment before making my walk of shame back to my seat, convinced the crew and passengers knew just what we had been up to.
Mandy laughed when I sat down, “God, you looked so guilty; don’t worry, nobody noticed.”
We settled in for the last portion of the trip, and soon the plane began to descend, and the fasten seatbelt signs illuminated.
The cabin crew came around, making their final preparations for landing. The senior purser, a dark-haired woman in her late thirties, spoke to Mandy as she checked the seat belt was fastened, and they both burst out laughing. The woman kissed Mandy on the cheek and smiled at me before returning to her crew seat.
Mandy waited until we were walking down the jetway before explaining what the woman had said to her.
“She was welcoming us to the club,” she told me.
What club?” I asked suspiciously.
“The mile high club, we even get badges.” She showed me a badge depicting two tiny gold planes, one mounting the other.
“Oh god,” I groaned.
“This one’s yours, I’m already wearing mine.” Crap, she was, too.
The ground staff directed the other first-class passengers and me towards the VIP immigration lanes. I was surprised when Mandy presented a Hong Kong passport and not her British one. It only took a few minutes for both of us to complete the immigration process. Our bags were in the first half dozen off the carousel.
“So, you’re a Hong Kong citizen. Were you ever going to tell me that little tidbit?” I asked as I stacked our bags on a trolley.
“It’s not important; it was something the bank arranged for me. I’ve got dual nationality, so I use my British one to enter the UK and the Hong Kong one when I come here.” She shrugged her shoulders, “The lines are usually shorter that way.
After we cleared customs, Mandy said, “There should be a car waiting for us. Usually, the bank sends a car to pick me up, but as we are staying at the Mandarin, they are sending one of theirs.”
There was a car waiting for us, but it wasn’t from either of the sources Mandy had mentioned.
I was pushing the trolley piled with our bags as we exited the Customs hall. Mandy was walking in front of me, looking for the driver. She stopped dead in her tracks when we were a few paces past the exit doors. We’d both been looking in the direction of the crowd of people waiting to greet the arriving passengers, hoping to see a sign with our names. I’d almost hit the back of her legs, and I gave her a puzzled look when I saw an elegant silver-haired gentleman in his mid-to-late 50s step from the crowd and move in our direction.
“What are you doing here, Alan?” Mandy asked in a cool and measured tone when he reached her side.
So this was the mysterious Alan. There was something about his attitude that had the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.
“Since I’m the cause of all your problems, I thought the least I could do is collect you from the airport.” He leaned forward to kiss her on the lips, but Mandy turned her face, and his lips barely brushed her cheek.
She took a step back and said, “There was no need, the Mandarin is sending a car for us.”
“I’m afraid not; I called the hotel and canceled the car. We need to talk before you meet with the Sungs this evening.” He glanced at the trolley. “I hadn’t realized you were bringing the kitchen sink as well as your boyfriend.” His tone was dismissive.
“Why the fuck would you do that…” Mandy snapped out in anger, then stopped as I placed a hand on her arm. She started at my touch, and then visibility relaxed.
She took a couple of deep breaths. “Sorry, Alex, this is Alan Davis. He’s the bank’s General Manager, and because of him, we need to go and find a taxi.”
I held out my hand, and we shook hands. There was none of that macho hand squeezing you read about, just a quick shake and release. We stepped back, and each assessed our rival.
He seemed tall compared to the crowds around us, yet in reality, he was an inch or so shorter than I was. He was a handsome man and had probably been devastatingly attractive when he and Mandy first met. I could understand why Mandy had been attracted to him. She hadn’t said he’d been the second of her lovers she told me about, but I was sure he had been. I wasn’t sure what he saw in me, but his expression hardened.
“Pleased to meet you,” he said, but there was a lack of sincerity to his words that I found it easy to identify.
“Alex, I’ll get you a taxi to the hotel,” he said. “I need to talk to Mandy about the problem, and I’m afraid everything we discuss is confidential.”
Mandy straightened up and jabbed a finger into his chest. “No. Don’t try and make me break the promise I gave Alex within moments of us landing.”
Then to me, she said, “Alex, love, you will find the limo service desks just over there. Could you please arrange for one to take us to the Mandarin? I will be over in a moment.”
I went, not wishing to get between them, but I couldn’t help watching them as I waited for service. Mandy appeared less than amused, and it seemed I was relatively high on the agenda as both would keep glancing in my direction. It looked like it was getting quite heated when suddenly Alan made a brief gesture with his hand, and Mandy froze. Then she seemed to shake herself, and I heard the “NO” from where I was standing. She turned on her heels and stalked towards me.
“God, he’s so… so male,” she snarled as she reached me. I smiled at her frustration and decided to defer the question about their relationship to a more opportune moment.
“So what’s happening? Are you going to a meeting this evening?”
“No, for us, it’s a limo, hotel, sex, and not necessarily in that order!”
I laughed, and she broke into a wide smile. “Sorry, that was stupid of me,” she said, “but I wasn’t kidding about the sex. I told Alan to cancel the meeting and reminded him that in all things, you come first.”
I looked back to where Alan still stood, animatedly talking on his phone. Mandy followed my gaze and pursed her lips.
“Christ, I’ve known Alan for almost half of my life, and he still manages to surprise me,” she said as we followed the driver as he led us to the limo.
“Half?”
“More. I was thirteen when I first came out here to live with Dad. Alan was one of his friends, as well as his boss at the bank. He and Dad hung out a bit, but I didn’t pay much attention to him until after Dad’s accident.”
The driver packed our bags in the trunk, and we settled into the back seat. She pulled her laptop out of her bag. Before she opened it, she gave me an apologetic smile. “Don’t be angry, but I promised I’d take a look at a couple of documents Alan sent me. I’ll do it now, and then I can concentrate on you, and you alone, when we get to the hotel.”
I was hoping to understand more about the Hong Kong version of Mandy, so I asked. “Am I going to get to see your apartment? You’ve never really told me where it is.”
She stiffened slightly, “I guess so, and it’s up in the hills overlooking the city. Alan’s place is one of the old villas up in the hills. My apartment was converted out of the old servants’ rooms on top of the garage. It’s got a separate entrance, so usually, I never see Alan except at work.” She stressed the last part.
She looked pointedly back to the laptop, sat on her lap. I took the hint; there wasn’t much I could say. I just hoped that this wasn’t an omen for the rest of the trip. While she opened the laptop and angled the camera so it couldn’t see me, I checked my email on my iPad. There was nothing of importance, so I turned to observe Mandy.
She was sitting with her legs tucked up, peering at the screen. A lock of her hair was wound around the finger she was using to stroke her cheek as she concentrated on evaluating the information Alan had sent her.
She glanced up and saw me watching her; she gave me a rueful smile. “I’ll stop as soon as we arrive. Then I’m going to pamper you, and this evening I’d like to take you to one of my favorite places to eat and drink.
The airport is a fair way outside the city, and with heavy traffic, the journey took close to an hour before we arrived at our hotel. At the reception, Mandy surprised me by speaking fluent Chinese to the girl behind the desk. I don’t know why I was surprised; she’d lived there for a fair chunk of her life, only this was the first time I’d heard her use the language.
She saw the surprised look I gave her. “Oh come on, I’ve been here for years; of course I speak Chinese. I’m fluent in both Mandarin and Cantonese,” she said. “A lot of my school friends were Chinese, and they taught me.”
“You continue to amaze me.”
“Good.” She gave me a cute little smile.
The room, no, that didn’t do it justice, the palace on the top floor had amazing views across the harbor.
Mandy grinned as she took in the suite. “God knows how much this is costing the bank.”
The suite consisted of a large bedroom and an enormous lounge and dining area. Mandy discovered the bathroom while I was taking in the stunning views. I followed the squeals and the trail of discarded clothes to find Mandy in the bathroom looking at an enormous white freestanding bathtub. It stood on a shallow plinth, and the wall beside it was a full-height window. Every room featured a wall of glass.
She started running the water and added a generous splash from one of the bottles on the counter. A pleasant aroma of lavender began to fill the room. She said, “It’s big enough for a whole family, let alone just us. Will you join me?”
Silly question. I answered her by undressing.
I slid into the hot water, and Mandy followed me in, stepping in gingerly and settling down in front of me. She laid back against me, her head on my chest and the tips of her breasts just breaking the surface of the water. Her arms lay along the rim of the tub. My firming cock pressed against her back. I wrapped my arms around her, and she sighed contentedly.
She murmured, “This feels so nice.” She wriggled back against me and continued, “I was beginning to feel guilty about coercing you to come with me,” she gestured around us. “I’m not now.”
I kissed the back of her neck and caressed the soft curves of her breasts. She sighed and placed her hands on top of mine, pushing my palms down on her hard nipples. We laid looking out of the window, enjoying the view, Mandy pointing out several prominent landmarks while we let the hot water work on our tired bodies.
With a splash and a surge of the water, she turned to face me. She slid her body up, sliding along mine until her face hovered above mine. My poor hard cock was trapped between us, and I gave a little groan as she wriggled. Mandy kissed me, and more water sloshed over the brim of the bath.
“This is fun,” she said, “We need to get a bigger bath in the cottage.”
“I suppose you want me to knock down the wall and fit a picture window as well?”
“Hmm, it could be fun to let the villagers watch us.”
“Watch what?”
“This,” she said.
She sat up and repositioned herself above my hard cock, two-thirds of which broke the surface of the water like a periscope. The sensations rippled through me as she slowly lowered herself down, encasing me in the soft silky wet flesh of her vagina. Her muscles clutched at me in protest as I filled her, the crown of my cock caressing the entrance of her womb.
She raised her bowed head to look at me, “Ohh, fuck, Alex, I love you,” she gasped and then groaned as she started rocking. I rolled my hips to meet her every move. The water rose and fell, splashing over the brim. Her eyes were unfocused, and her mouth open as she grunted rhythmically in tune with our movements. I whispered words of encouragement, and she reacted, her movements becoming more aggressive, grinding her pelvis against mine.