Somewhere Only We Know(4)

“We do have heating,” I lied easily. “Anyway, my throat is starting to hurt, too.”

Dad leveled a penetrating stare at me. “Are you pretending to be sick to get out of this?”

I sniffled a very realistic sniffle. “Why would I do that? You know I’ve been pumped. My first bank banquet. Thing.”

While skepticism lined his face, I could sense his phobia overriding his dad BS meter. “All right, this is wrapping up anyway. Go home and get some rest. Do you need Mom to send you some food?”

Most easily won victory ever. “Nah, that’s okay. I can grab congee around the corner from my place.”

He made some mumbly comment about Korean porridge being better than congee before I slipped out of the ballroom and into the lobby of the fancy hotel.

My family wasn’t from Hong Kong. Both my parents immigrated to the US from Korea when they were kids, and I was born and raised in Los Angeles. And then a year ago, my dad got this enticing offer at the bank that he couldn’t turn down. Hong Kong being the financial and banking capital of Asia.

It was always about the money. My dad had put aside his dreams of writing the Great American Novel when my mom’s family put pressure on him to get a “real job.” Which led him to a bank. And then he had kids. Which further entrenched him in the banking world. And that’s how we landed here.

Two doormen opened the double doors for me and I ducked outside with a nod of thanks. I glanced up at the hotel from outside, a sleek, dizzying tower of glass surrounded by other tall skyscrapers. Many of them lit up with pink or green trim. A light fog had settled in from the water, giving everything a dreamy, futuristic feel. I rubbed my arms for warmth through my jacket. It was unseasonably cool. Summer heat usually lasted well into winter here.

Even though the homesickness almost killed me at first, I’d started to like it in Hong Kong. Sometimes you can go somewhere new and it feels weirdly familiar, as if you once saw and moved through it in a dream.

Not to romanticize it or anything.

I walked alongside the curved hotel driveway. Luxury cars lined the drive, and I narrowly missed getting hit by one of them—a black Escalade that screeched to a halt at the entrance. The valet guys sprinted to open the back-seat door, and a white guy in sunglasses with a shock of red hair got out.

I recognized that red hair. It was Teddy Slade, American action star. Holy crap, was he staying here? A preternatural sense of knowing someone was up to no good had me pause and follow him back into the lobby. He strode straight into an elevator being held open for him.

A woman in sunglasses and a dark coat stepped in right after.

The woman had the distinct profile of Hong Kong superstar Celeste Jiang. I couldn’t believe it. I immediately texted Trevor Nakamura: I have eyes on Teddy Slade at the Skyloft Hotel. Celeste Jiang’s with him.

Trevor was the editor-at-large for the biggest, sleaziest tabloid website in Hong Kong, Rumours.

And I worked for him.

He immediately texted back: Everyone’s been trying to catch this affair. Can you get a photo?

For the past four months, I had been moonlighting for Trevor, getting him photos whenever I could. My parents, of course, had no idea I was doing this.

I texted back: I can get it. Then I watched the numbers on the elevator. They didn’t stop until the penthouse floor.

Gotcha.

I received a warm welcome when I stepped up to the front desk. Fancy hotels treat everyone well because you never know who you are really talking to. I could have been Jackie Chan’s son for all they knew.

“Good evening, sir, how may we help you?” A tidy young woman with a slight accent to her English greeted me. I assessed her—I knew at hotels like this they didn’t let people go up into the hotel rooms if they weren’t guests. There was a reason why celebrities stayed here. It was a small boutique hotel, and the staff probably recognized most of their guests. Everything was about discretion.

I shot her a quick grin and glanced down at her name tag. “Hi, Jessica. I’m meeting a friend who’s staying here. Can I hang out to wait for him?” I let my gaze linger on hers for a beat too long.

She flushed and smiled back at me. “Oh, sure, the lobby by the elevators is probably best. That way your friend can spot you right away.”

“Thanks, Jessica.” I tapped her arm gently before walking into the lobby. Aware that she was still watching me, I sat down in one of the velvety blue-gray armchairs and pulled out my phone, as if texting my friend. I was actually researching the hotel—was there more than one room on the penthouse floor?

Yes. There were two. Easy.

I gave it a few seconds before I peeked over at Jessica again, who was busy helping another guest. I took a quick look around the lobby—dimly lit and filled with sleek furniture. And flowers. A lot of flower arrangements.

The elevator dinged, and I glanced up. A white couple speaking loudly in Australian accents stepped off the elevator, and an Asian woman wearing a patterned scarf stepped on. I got up and swiped one of the large flower arrangements set on a coffee table and slipped into the elevator after the woman, moving back into the corner.

The arrangement was more massive than it had looked sitting on the table, and it practically smushed the lady in the elevator. I couldn’t even see her. I heard her huff as she moved around me and selected her floor. Peeking behind the foliage, I saw “17” light up after she tapped a card against the sensor.