The Stand-In(103)

My eyes go wide. “What?”

“Sam isn’t in love with me, nor I him. We are friends only.” She narrows her eyes. “You knew that. He made it clear enough.”

I avoid that. “Why would she say that?”

“Sam went home and told her to stay out of his life.” She smiles proudly. “He’s never done that before. Lili is a power and he finally had it out with her.”

“Then where did the announcement come from?”

“Lili tried to force his hand. Sam was furious, as was my father. She overstepped.”

I thump back into the chair. “What are you going to do?”

“Say we broke it off and hope it plays well for Sam’s movie release.” She adjusts her sleeves. “We have to let Lili save some face, but this is enough for her to know her limits. At least there was a gold lining because she’ll never try to do that again. Sam feels free.”

“Do you mean silver lining?”

She laughs. “Gold. Lu Lili would have nothing less than the best.”

To know they’re not engaged buoys me up and I can’t stop grinning, even though it doesn’t mean anything for Sam and me. “About Sam…” I don’t know how to finish the sentence.

“I’ve never seen him more miserable,” Fangli says. “It’s hard for him to connect with people.”

“Sam?” I raise my eyebrows.

“His mother is a monster, as you know. She kept him on display and he grew up quite the little emperor, petted and spoiled. She sees him as an extension of herself and sometimes he does, too.”

“He told me about her.”

“It’s hard for him to trust that people like him for himself, not for his family or his money. Or his looks.”

I take a deep breath. “I never knew if he was with me or you. Whether he’d prefer to be with you.” That’s hard to say.

“We are friends.” She claps her hands for emphasis. “Long-time friends who love each other, but what I have with Sam isn’t what you have with him. I never saw him so relaxed as with you. You brought out the best of him. It was like being with the old Sam, the one who used to laugh with me and Chen.” Her expression looks wistful.

I run my finger around the edge of my glass. “I screwed it all up.”

“He told me he tried to talk to you.”

“I overheard you speaking and thought it was about me.” I tell her about the translator, and her face is an exact replica of the mixed disbelief and pity Anjali had displayed. “Mei came and apologized.”

“We knew as soon as ZZTV called who the leak was.” Her expression is grim. “I couldn’t see what was in front of me. I didn’t know she had feelings for Sam and what she would do. She wanted him. You were in the way.”

I shake my head. “Unbelievable.”

“I trusted her,” says Fangli, her voice breathy. Then she shakes her head. “She felt terrible after. She said it was like being in a fog. I had to let her go, but we didn’t press charges.”

I’m glad. Mei wasn’t a friend, but I understand the regret of bad decisions. “I didn’t see the story.”

“Mei told them it was a lie. They decided not to run with it because they couldn’t corroborate and we threatened to sue. She said it was the least she could do.”

Poor Mei, even though she could have caused much damage.

Fangli grimaces. “My manager was furious, rightfully so, but once I explained, it was better.”

“That’s good.”

“He hadn’t realized how bad things had become for me. He’s listening now.” She smiles. “Another thing I have to thank you for.”

“Thank me?”

Fangli pauses to look at me carefully. “Do you not know?”

“Know what?” I can see my expression reflected in hers, pursed lips, tilted head.

“Gracie. You changed my life.” She says it so simply, like it’s a fact. “I was exhausted and you brought me rest. Confused and you brought help. Now you bring me a mother I thought was dead? A sister I never knew I had? How can that not change me?”

“We have each other.” When I say the words, it’s a revelation. I thought when Mom died, I would be alone.

I have Fangli.

She smiles as if she knows what I’m thinking and says, “We have each other.”

“We do,” I say. Wow. I mean, wow. “What does this mean?”

This makes her laugh and it’s toned with delighted excitement. “I don’t know. I never had a sister. I think we’ll fight and make up and do sheet masks with each other. I see that happen in American movies.” She comes over and gives me a spine-cracking hug. For a small woman, she’s strong.

“This is a lot for you,” I say.

“I need to talk about this with my therapist.” Fangli sees my look and goes red. “It’s hard to say that.”

“You should be proud you’re helping yourself,” I say gently.

“I can’t talk about it at home, not yet. I can’t help others. I will, one day.”

“First get yourself in order.”

“I’m trying.” She hesitates. “About our mother. Should I visit?”