Off Limits



I hadn’t told Kade the total truth. I didn’t really have a lot to do the next day. However, when I went to get the delivery from the front door, I found Rita’s note sitting on my bag. I tucked the paper deeper into my bag just in case, and through all of dinner I thought about what she’d told me. I was thrilled at the things she said, and I had to admit it made me warm inside to think of being able to make Kade happy.

On more mundane matters though, I wanted to take care of Sydney’s bribe. I thought there might be a way I could ensure I could get the files back, but I didn’t know for certain. Still, it was worth a try, and I had to make preparations.

The next morning, the first thing I did was go to an electronics store. I found what I wanted at the third store I tried, which actually didn’t involve buying anything at all. Instead, by downloading an app to my phone, I could then with a simple tap of a button record a dialogue and upload it to the Internet as a file that I could then access later. The only challenge was that I had to keep my phone out of sight. Thankfully, the guy at the electronics store showed me a Bluetooth headset that I could get that would allow me to tap a button on the headset and it would set up the microphone. Best of all, it was small enough that if I wore my hair over my ear, Sydney wouldn’t see it at all.

My new device set up and checked out, I gave Rita a call. “Hello?”

“Hello Rita, it’s Alix Nova. Uhm, I know it’s the middle of the morning and you’re probably at work, but I was kind of hoping that you might be able to find time to talk.”

“Sure,” Rita said, and I could hear real surprise as well as happiness in her voice. “I work from home, actually. I’ll text you the address. When can I expect you?”

“How about an hour? Unless you live out in Ventura County or something.”

Rita chuckled. “Nope, I live in Torrance, actually. You should be familiar with the neighborhood, right? It’s the fashion district and all for Los Angeles, I think.”

“I sure am. I’ll be there,” I said, hanging up after she’d given me the address. The drive to Torrance was easy, and I parked in front of the little fourplex that Rita lived in. I went up to the second floor, looking for apartment 2B.

Rita answered me only a few seconds after I knocked, looking vastly different than she had the night before. First of all, her hair was black. Secondly, she was wearing the ridiculous combination of a business suit top and basketball shorts. “Hey, good to see you,” she said, inviting me in. “Guess you’re wondering where the blonde hair went.”

“That and jealous of you for having a hair stylist that can do such a great dye job on short notice,” I said. “Seriously, whether you’re a natural blonde who went black or the other way around, that is impressive. But your sense of style can be called . . . original I guess.”

“Why thank you,” Rita said with a chuckle before reaching up and pulling the long black wig off her head, “but I can’t take credit for it. I wear it for work only, and I’m on lunch break right now.”

“Whoa,” I said, “that is even more impressive. I wouldn’t have guessed at all. How’d you pull that off?”

“Lots and lots of practice,” she replied, leading me into her living room. She unbuttoned her suit coat top and shrugged it off, leaving just a sleeveless blouse that, while still jarring with the pink shorts, was less so than the black jacket. She took a seat on a comfortable looking, bubbly styled chair, offering me one on the other side of the room. I saw an impressive computer setup in the corner, which she nodded to. “I do freelance work for various companies in Asia, and it helps to look the part, so I wear the suit top for video conferences along with the wig, and sometimes I even do my makeup to accentuate the Asian-ness of my features. Say what you want, most of the old men who run those companies are racist as all hell, and they barely trust me as it is with my American passport. If I didn’t have the wig, I’d lose at least a quarter of my business.”

“What about your name?” I asked.

Rita chuckled. “I have another, in fact. I’m half-Korean, although the math is weird. Both Mom and Dad were half Korean too, so I’m not sure how the DNA works out, but I have a Korean name, Kim Areum. The Chinese and Korean groups I work for go with that, and for the Japanese I go with Rita. They hate the Koreans more than they distrust Americans I think. But you didn’t come by for my insight on the racial politics of East Asia. Relax and let me tell you what I can, or at least answer what questions you’re ready for.”