The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient #2)(5)

“They don’t do it, and Kh?i would be angry if he knew. But I have to do something. His older brother is too good with women—I don’t need to worry about him—but Kh?i is twenty-six and still hasn’t had a girlfriend. When I set up dates for him, he doesn’t go. When girls call him, he hangs up. This coming summer, there are three weddings in our family, three, but is one his? No. Since he doesn’t know how to find himself a wife, I decided to do it for him. I’ve been interviewing candidates all day. None of them fit my expectations.”

Her jaw fell. “All the crying girls …”

C? Nga waved her comment away. “They’re crying because they’re ashamed of themselves. They’ll recover. I had to know if they were serious about marrying my son. None of them were.”

“They seemed very serious.” They hadn’t been fake crying in the bathroom—that was for sure.

“How about you?” C? Nga fixed that assessing stare on her again.

“What about me?”

“Are you interested in marrying my Kh?i?”

M? looked behind herself before pointing at her own chest. “Me?”

C? Nga nodded. “Yes, you. You’ve caught my attention.”

Her eyes widened. How?

As if she could read M?’s mind, C? Nga said, “You’re a good, hardworking girl and pretty in an unusual way. I think I could trust you with my Kh?i.”

All M? could do was stare. Had the fumes from the cleaning chemicals finally damaged her brain? “You want me to marry your son? But we’ve never met. You might like me …” She shook her head, still unable to wrap her mind around that. She cleaned toilets for a living. “But your son probably won’t. He sounds picky, and I’m not—”

“Oh, no, no,” C? Nga interrupted. “He’s not picky. He’s shy. And stubborn. He thinks he doesn’t want a family. He needs a girl who is more stubborn. You’d have to make him change his mind.”

“How would I—”

“?i, you know. You dress up, take care of him, cook the things he likes, do the things he likes …”

M? couldn’t help grimacing, and C? Nga surprised her by laughing.

“This is why I like you. You can’t help but be yourself. What do you think? I could give you a summer in America to see if you two fit. If you don’t, no problem, you go home. At the very least, you’ll go to all our family weddings and have some food and fun. How’s that?”

“I—I—I …” She didn’t know what to say. It was too much to take in.

“One more thing.” C? Nga’s gaze turned measuring, and there was a heavy pause before she said, “He doesn’t want children. But I am determined to have grandchildren. If you manage to get pregnant, I know he’ll do the right thing and marry you, regardless of how you get along. I’ll even give you money. Twenty thousand American dollars. Will you do this for me?”

The breath seeped from M?’s lungs, and her skin went cold. C? Nga wanted her to steal a baby from her son and force him into marriage. Disappointment and futility crushed her. For a moment, she’d thought this lady saw something special in her, but C? Nga had judged her based on things she couldn’t control, just like the girls in the skimpy dresses had.

“The other girls all said no, didn’t they? You thought I’d say yes because …” She indicated her uniform with an open palm.

C? Nga said nothing, her gaze steady.

M? pushed away from the sofa, went to gather up her bucket of cleaning supplies, opened the door, and paused in the doorway. With her eyes trained straight ahead, she said, “My answer is no.”

She didn’t have money, connections, or skills, but she could still be as hardheaded and foolish as she wanted. She hoped her refusal stung. Without a backward glance, she left.

? ? ?

That evening, after the hour-long walk home—the same one she did twice a day every day—M? tiptoed into their one-room house and collapsed onto the section of floor mat where she slept at night. She needed to get ready for bed, but first, she wanted to do nothing for a few moments. Just nothing. Nothing was such a luxury.

Her pocket buzzed, ruining her nothing. With a frustrated sigh, she dug her phone out of her pocket.

Unfamiliar phone number.

She debated not answering it, but something had her hitting the talk button and pressing the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“M?, is this you?”

M? puzzled over the voice. It was slightly familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “Yes. Who’s this?”

“It’s me, C? Nga. No, don’t hang up,” the lady added quickly. “I got your number from the hotel supervisor. I wanted to talk to you.”

Her fingers tightened on the phone, and she sat upright. “I don’t have anything left to say.”

“You won’t change your mind?”

She resisted the urge to throw her phone at the wall. “No.”

“Good,” C? Nga said.

Frowning, M? lowered her phone and stared at it. What did she mean good?

She returned the phone to her ear in time to hear C? Nga say, “It was a test. I don’t want you to trick my son into having a baby, but I needed to know what kind of person you are.”

“So that means … ?”