“It’s time for their first dance!” Pó Po squeals, having already moved on to the next event of the evening.
The singer opens her mouth to sing and out comes a Mandarin version of “My Heart Will Go On” by Celine Dion. Bennett and I glance at each other and burst into laughter at how unexpected it is. Nina and Asher look confused but dance anyway to the romantic crooning. They hold each other close, their feet moving in sync on the temporary dance floor, and laugh together. Pó Po closes her eyes and sings along, swaying back and forth in her seat.
The last note of the song ends, and I’m excited to hear what they play next. It’s anybody’s guess. The saxophonist leans forward with her instrument, the smooth notes of “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” filling the room. Pó Po drags me with all the strength she can muster to join her, while I try to pull Bennett up to join us.
“You can’t not dance!” I shout to him over the music.
“I don’t dance in public!” he says. “Remember? Junior prom.”
“What could’ve been so bad? You were what, seventeen? We all look ridiculous at seventeen.”
He shakes his head. “It involved a pulled hamstring, sweaty bangs, split boxers, and my entire grade laughing at me.”
“I promise I won’t laugh when you pull your quad this time,” I say very seriously.
Bennett stays put in his seat.
My shoulders drop. “You’re really going to make me dance alone?”
Bennett visibly tenses. “Sorry,” he says, “but honestly? You don’t want me dancing with you. It’ll just be humiliating.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want,” I say, disheartened.
“Love is crazy, and that’s the thing!” Pó Po sings, reinterpreting the lyrics. The song is performed in English this time so even I can sing along if I want to. She dances her heart out and tugs at my arm. I follow her, abandoning Bennett at the table. I recall what Pó Po said about him not wanting to get too attached. A cloud of uneasiness looms over me, but Pó Po’s excitement pushes it away.
Pó Po doesn’t move fast, but she wiggles with passion. She throws her head back in delight, her happiness contagious. Auntie, Mom, and Dad join in, each of them taking turns to show off their dance moves. A few minutes later, Nina and Asher bop their way over to us.
“This was a great idea, Pó Po!” Nina shouts over the music. “You’re right. I would’ve regretted not having this. Maybe you really do know best!”
“Don’t ever forget that!” she shouts back.
When the slow Mandarin version of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” booms over the speakers, I go back to the table to sit with Bennett.
I lean in closer to his ear. “You okay?” I ask.
Bennett drapes his arm around me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “I’m great. Thanks for inviting me. This means a lot.”
“Thanks for coming,” I say, angling my face up toward his. “You’re sitting this next song out, too?”
He nods.
For the next slow song, I find my way back to Pó Po. She wraps her arms around my waist, and we rock back and forth.
Pó Po leans back to look me in the eye. She holds her pinky up. I link mine with hers, and we press our thumbs together.
“Liv,” Pó Po says, “you are worthy of love. Let people in. Your heart is stronger than you think. And always remember that I am so proud of you.” She cradles my face in her hand and looks intensely into my eyes. In this simple act, it’s as though she can sense all my worries and fears and wants and desires that are deeply embedded in me. “You were never, and will never be, a disappointment.”
Chapter 18
It’s ten minutes past 11:00 a.m., and Harper still hasn’t arrived for her session. Is it possible I scared her off for good with Bennett or she already found someone using ZodiaCupid? Did I miss an email about her canceling? In a panic, I google small business loans. Dozens of links populate the page, and I scan over topics like fixed assets and working capital.
I log in to the online banking dashboard to check on Lunar Love’s financial health. The numbers have dropped, even with the addition of Harper and a few others. Social media and the live podcast episode have drawn some attention, but they’re still not converting enough clients.
I lower my head into my arms, racking my brain for ideas. I remember Pó Po’s offer to loan Lunar Love part of her savings, but I can’t accept that. There’s something there, though. I log in to my own bank account and do some budgeting and calculations. If I significantly cut back on going out to eat, don’t buy new clothes, and limit travel for the next few years, I could invest my own savings into the business and still be able to make rent on my apartment. Barely, but it’s doable. It would be owner’s equity. Not a lot of owner’s equity, but enough to cover the past-due bills and the ones for next month.
I initiate a transfer and watch my personal savings drop down to a terrifying new low. I’m betting big on Lunar Love. I should put my money where my mouth is.
As I’m on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack, the front door swings open. Harper!
“I’m sorry I’m so late. My previous meeting ran long, but the good news is we locked in that client I was telling you about.” Harper exhales a happy sigh as she settles into the chair in the session room.
After a flood of cancellations, I’m just thrilled she showed up at all. “Congrats! That’s exciting.”
“Their social media presence is not great right now, but we’re going to turn it around. Speaking of, I noticed you joined the world of social media. Welcome! Your last tweet was great. I like that you’re keeping the messages true to who you are as a business. Don’t lose that.”
“Thanks. Coming from you, that means a lot,” I say, relieved on many different levels. We just need that content to result in sign-ups. “Let’s start by talking about Bennett. I know you said on the phone that he’s not what you’re looking for. Can you elaborate on that? For my learning purposes.” Saying his name out loud feels revealing, as though I may have said it too affectionately.
Harper adjusts the waistline of her jeans and props her left calf under her right thigh, getting comfortable before divulging her emotions.
“I understand why you paired me with him. He’s confident, opinionated, enjoys good food, and is easy to talk to,” she reports.
I maintain a neutral expression. I’ve made out with one of my clients’ matches. One of my clients’ dates! The word professional doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. I’m a complete fraud.
“But…” She trails off.
“But what?” I grip my pen tighter.
“He wouldn’t stop talking about you!” Harper says with one raised eyebrow.
I wrinkle my nose. “I hope my being there didn’t dominate the conversation. I shouldn’t have shown up like that.”