It wasn’t that I didn’t find her attractive. She seemed almost normal in this setting—just another beautiful girl enjoying the celebrations. But deep down, part of me still balked over our differences. Any lust I might have felt for her, any desire, was edged with anger and dampened by contempt. After another twenty minutes of dancing, Angela pulled me down by the shoulders, one hand sliding carelessly to my bicep, and said into my ear that she wanted to go somewhere quieter. I nodded, but not before she brushed her lips against my earlobe. She drew me back off the dance floor, hand clasped tightly with mine. I had a feeling that Angela always got what she wanted.
We left the crowded dance chamber to the one adjoining, this one with fewer people and much more subdued. A circular bar dominated the large rectangular room, the edge of its counter lit in electric blue. Bottles of liquor were nestled on mirrored shelves behind the bar, also tinged in bright blue. Classical music played from the air vents that pumped out our regulated air as well—Bach. The walls were soundproof, so not a note of taitronica emanated from the dance area. Barbots still hovered overhead, ready to take a drink order, but actual bartenders stood behind the bar, for those who preferred to deal with humans. Angela ordered a typhoon cocktail for herself and I asked for a Jin beer—brewed especially for Jin’s soirees.
The party guests here were older, much more conservative in their elegance, although their jewels were displayed just as prominently, even more extravagant than what I’d seen on the younger crowd. Large diamond chokers, bracelets, and rubies glittered even in the soft ambient light. I led us to one of the many tables by the floor-to-ceiling windows. The 101 building was encased in glass, and the party was held on the eighty-eighth floor, owned by Jin himself. The Chinese considered eight to be an auspicious number, so it was unsurprising that Jin had bought this entire floor for his personal use. Taipei’s lights blinked and flashed beneath our gods’-eye view, and it looked beautiful from up here.
An attendant dressed in a gold qipao embroidered with dark pink chrysanthemums offered us finger foods from a large silver tray. Angela took two meatballs and I chose a stuffed mushroom. It was filled with tender bamboo shoots and was the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten, its flavors exploding in my mouth. Angela nibbled from one meatball but left them both on her gilded plate. It took all my willpower not to chase after the attendant and snatch more food from her, given so freely and endlessly. Leftover food and drinks were discarded everywhere around us, even as attendants came and swept the plates and glasses away. What could feed entire hungry mei families—food better than anything they had ever tasted—thrown into the trash.
The waste was unfathomable.
“You’re a good dancer,” Angela said, sipping from the glowing straw dipped into her tall glass, watching me from beneath lowered lashes.
I raised my beer to her and took a swallow. “I had a fantastic partner.” Jin’s beer was a golden hue, the flavor crisp and cool, reminding me of wax apples in the summer. Mom would always save so we could share a few when they were in season. “I haven’t danced like that in a while.”
She widened her kohl-lined eyes. “Why not?”
“Too busy studying, I guess.” I grinned. “Besides, the clubs in Berkeley don’t compare to what you have in Taipei.”
“Studying, huh?” Angela wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something rotten. “You’re too hot to be a nerd.”
I laughed, even though my initial reaction was one of scorn. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Play the part.
Her gaze settled on someone behind my shoulder; she straightened, as she had been leaning closer across the small table. She raised her hand and waved, and the subtle scent of her floral perfume drifted to me. “I wasn’t sure if you’d stayed,” Angela beckoned.
I felt a cool breeze as someone swept up from behind me to stand beside our table. Another you girl, dressed in a flowing white dress, like the one I had spotted earlier across the dance floor: Daiyu. I drew a small breath when Angela said, “Jason, this is Jin Daiyu, the unofficial hostess of this party. And she hates parties.”
My heart leaped into my throat, but I managed to swallow before lifting my face and smiling up at her. Her silk dress was sleeveless with a wide square neck, and she wore a choker of blue stones set in silver. They emitted a faint light, casting her face in its soft glow. Her hair was swept up, and she looked like some wayward goddess. It felt as if my heart stopped for a long moment, my grin frozen on my face, before I managed to say, “But your father throws a great party, Miss Jin.” I inclined my head. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I met her eyes, waiting for that inevitable moment of recognition. Her lips curved into a faint smile. Then her straight eyebrows lifted slightly, not from alarm, but in question. She thought I was flirting.
Angela laughed. “Isn’t he cute? I’m keeping him.”
“Another one? You’re well on your way to establishing a personal harem,” Daiyu said, and her rich voice was exactly as I remembered it. She must have been wearing heels, as she appeared even taller in her white dress.
“Do join us,” Angela said. “I haven’t seen you in ages. You never come out to play.”
I made to rise so I could offer her my chair before getting another one, but she shook her head. “I can’t stay.” She studied my face, dark eyes lit with curiosity. “You’re Tianren’s cousin, right?”
One corner of my mouth slanted up even as I gripped the beer bottle tighter in my fist. “No. I’ve no cousins left in Taipei. I just moved here from the Bay Area.”
Angela giggled. “Doesn’t he look familiar? But I think it’s because he reminds me of that famous Cantonese star.”
“Perhaps.” Daiyu tilted her head. “But I think Jason’s look is unique.”
Probably because I was the only youth in the room whose looks hadn’t been genetically or surgically manipulated. My free hand almost went to where I usually hid my knife, but I swept my fingers through my hair instead. There were no knives on me tonight. Security was tight.
I took another drink of beer. “Sit down. We’re taking a break from dancing.” I willed my pulse to stop racing. Victor and everyone else had promised that there was no way Daiyu could remember me. What if they were wrong? There was an anomaly for everything. Never mind the photo her father had been sending around. Surely, she’d seen it too. Would I blow this on our first meeting? “I’ll get you a drink.”
I tried to stand again and Daiyu laughed, a surprisingly full sound. “I really wish I could.” She touched my shoulder this time, a light touch, and I remembered how that same hand had grabbed my shirt with such strength during our last exchange. When she had begged me not to use the memory-wipe on her. “My father’s waiting for me.” She rolled her eyes and Angela made sympathetic noises.
“We could come with you,” Angela offered. “Would that make it better? You could introduce him to Jason.”
I swallowed my beer too fast and pressed the back of my hand to my mouth, clearing my throat. How could I get out of this?
Daiyu brushed her fingertips against my arm this time before I could respond. “You’re a darling, Ange. But you know how my father gets with boys.” She let her hand drop. The familiar way she had touched me made my palms sweat. “Nothing personal, Jason. My father’s just a bit of a hard-ass.”