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My Kind of Town Don Chapman |
Pretty in peach
>>Ala Moana Center
The clandestine Tibetan Warrior Society infiltrated Te-Wu, the Chinese secret police, the way so many secret services have been compromised -- with a beautiful, intelligent woman. And a bit of dumb luck, whether good or bad depending entirely on point of view.
Bodhicita Guzman was dream-shopping at Neiman's and admiring the absolute cutest sweater set -- peach colored, made of knit silk, the inner sweater with a swooping neckline that would give generous hints at two of her better assets -- until she saw the price tag. "Four hundred dollars!" the Puerto Rican-Japanese beauty whispered to herself. But a bit too loudly.
"Rather steep, and such a pity, it would look quite good on you," a male voice said, a hint of British accent.
She jumped, turned, faced a tall Asian guy, mid-30s, very handsome, well-muscled beneath a gray business suit, jet black hair moussed back.
"Forgive me, I was just walking past, and couldn't help noticing what a lovely color that is against your skin," he said, bowed slightly.
"Oh, um, thanks," Bodhicita stammered, shocked as much by his presence and words as by how hot he was. Like, meltdown already. Then there was the British lilt.
He handed her a business card, the fancy kind on slick stock with both English and Chinese characters embossed in gold and red. Bank of Lhasa. Fon Du. Vice President. Honolulu Branch.
Bank of Lhasa? She tried not to show her shock. She wasn't Tibetan, but because of her name -- her father's mis-spelled, P-Ricanized version of Boddhicitta, the path of enlightenment -- and her fondness for a good party, as an undergrad she'd made some Tibetan friends at the annual Free Tibet kegger during UH Homecoming Week. Now a grad student in Pacific history, she still attended the annual bash and often saw Joe Kharma out clubbing and Kamasami Khan at the gym.
"Lhasa?" she said, purposely mis-pronouncing it Lay-sa. "Is that in China?"
What a splendid answer. "Yes, it is." The Chinese state of Tibet.
She nodded, admiring the card. "I'm afraid I don't know much about banking, except that as a struggling student I have a hard time balancing my check book."
Fon Du laughed easily. "You might be surprised how many people I know in banking who have the same problem with their personal finances."
She smiled the smile that hooked a man at least a dozen times a day. "That makes me feel better, I guess."
"I would like to make you feel better. May I purchase this gift for you?"
"In return for what?" she said defensively, stepped back.
"The honor of getting to know you. And seeing you wear it, of course."
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Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek. His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin. He can be e-mailed at dchapman@midweek.com