Sex and Vanity(12)

Lucie went up to the waiter standing beside a small circular fountain filled with lotus flowers and grabbed three flutes of champagne off his silver tray. As she walked carefully up the steps trying not to spill any of the bubbly, she came upon Rosemary Zao dressed in a shimmering gold caftan festooned with peacock feathers. She thought it was funny how different mother and son looked—he was way underdressed in a brown linen shirt and awful mustard-colored jeans that were too tight on him, looking like he had stumbled into the wrong party in the wrong decade, whereas his mom’s outfit was a party unto itself.

“Ah, Lucie! How pretty you look in blue! Do you like your room? Isn’t it nice?” Rosemary asked excitedly.

“Yes, it’s very nice. Thanks again, Mrs. Zao. It’s such a treat to be able to enjoy the view.”

“I’m so glad. I told you the suite was amazing, didn’t I? Now, let me ask you something. You are hapa,fn2 yes?”

“Um, yeah.” Lucie nodded, caught off guard. It wasn’t very often that she was asked that question so directly.

“Which side is the Chinese side?”

“My mother is Chinese.”

“How nice. My husband, Emerson, was hapa too—his grandfather was Australian. That makes George one-eighth Aussie, although he looks Chinese, don’t you think? But that’s why he’s so handsome. He’s like Bruce Lee. You know Bruce Lee’s mother was half German?”fn3

“I didn’t, actually,” Lucie replied politely, although her mind was reeling. Did Mrs. Zao actually just say that her son was handsome because he was one-eighth Aussie?

“I think you and George have a lot in common. You two should be friends.”

Lucie could feel her jaw tighten in annoyance. What was this woman talking about? She had nothing in common with her son.

“You could be a good influence on George. He’s too serious for his age. He worries too much.”

“What does he worry about?” Lucie asked, before regretting it instantly. Why did she ask a question when she could have just made a quick exit?

“Everything! The icebergs melting, world poverty, penguins, you name it. I don’t know why, but this son of mine feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. Ever since his father died four years ago, he feels like he’s responsible for me. But I tell him, ‘Don’t worry about me! Go out and have fun!’ When I was his age, I was going dancing every night. My goodness, the times I had at Disco Disco or the Club 97 in Lan Kwai Fong!”

“Well, I do think our generation feels more burdened than yours. I mean, climate change, poverty, and penguins are all real concerns.”

“Yes, but there needs to be balance. You know, the middle way. Look, I’m not asking you to be his girlfriend or anything. But maybe you could … you know … be nice to him.”

Lucie felt too awkward to say anything, but it didn’t matter because Rosemary wouldn’t stop talking.

“You know, I had to drag George to this wedding. He didn’t want to come. He said he didn’t want to witness a massive waste of money.”

“Well, I’m not sure how much your son is going to like me, Mrs. Zao. You see, I don’t think this wedding is going to be a massive waste at all. Isabel is my dear friend, and she does everything with intention and heart. I think it’s all going to be wonderful!” Lucie turned abruptly and headed quickly up the stairs. She was spilling champagne along the way and knew she was behaving rudely, but she didn’t care. She was beginning to think that Charlotte had been right all along, and she was regretting the decision to accept the Zaos’ rooms. Rosemary’s words kept ringing in her ears. Maybe you could … you know … be nice to him. What the hell did she mean by that?





CHAPTER FIVE


Da Luigi Beach Club



Capri, Italy


“Valentino used to live in that villa. This is the street where all the oldest, most historic houses are,” Isabel said, pointing up the hill as she strolled with Lucie along Via Tragara. One side of the street consisted of high stone walls, imposing hedges, and ornate gates, giving only tantalizing glimpses into the worlds hidden beyond them. The other side had lower walls where one could admire the beautiful gardens and terraces of villas that looked out to the sea.

“This is my favorite street so far. I thought Via Camerelle was lovely, but then it just keeps getting more beautiful the farther along you go, doesn’t it?” Lucie remarked, trailing her fingers over the hibiscus bushes along the wall.

“That’s the thing about this island—it reveals its secrets slowly. I’ve been here probably half a dozen times and I still feel like I’m discovering a whole different island every time I come,” Isabel said.

“I’m so glad you texted me this morning,” Lucie said as she strolled happily along the sun-dappled lane with her friend, breathing in the scent of orange blossom that seemed to follow them everywhere.

“Of course! I need to have some alone time with you, before the onslaught!” The two of them had met on the terrace of the Grand Hotel Quisisana and caught up over a breakfast of croissants, truffled scrambled eggs, and cappuccinos, and now they were heading to the beach club to meet up with some of Isabel’s friends.

“It’s such a treat to have this time with you, right before your wedding. Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to help?” Lucie inquired.