Post by marianne on Dec 17, 2008 1:48:33 GMT
White Tiger
Paperback
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty Ltd (July 24, 2006)
ISBN-10: 0732282969
ISBN-13: 978-0732282967
Chapter One
“Emma, this is your final warning. If you do not wear a suit to my kindergarten, I will dock your pay.” Miss Kwok sighed theatrically and glared at me over her reading glasses. “Jeans are not acceptable at any of my kindergartens. More smartly dressed. Remember.”
I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to be out of her office and up to Mr Chen’s.
“Your hair is unacceptable as well. You should come with me to the salon. Your hair is messy, you don’t wear makeup; really, Emma, your whole appearance is just not good enough. You should work harder to make yourself more presentable.”
A flood of words hit the back of my throat and I swallowed them all.
“I have had some complaints from the parents.” She shuffled the papers on the desk. Her face appeared early forties, the work of an excellent plastic surgeon, but her hands showed her true age. “The parents say you are spending too much time talking with the children and not enough time teaching them the abc’s.”
“Talking is the best way to learn English,” I said.
“Well, make sure they learn their abc’s. They need to be able to recite the alphabet and spell some words to pass the examinations for first grade. They’re here to cram for the best schools, you know that.”
I tried to control my face as I thought about what I’d like to do to a school that had examinations for entry into first grade.
“Well?”
I shrugged. “It’s your school, Miss Kwok. I’ll do more abc’s.”
“I do not like your attitude sometimes, Emma.” Her voice became more fierce. “Oh, and stop wasting the drawing materials. I only budget for one set a year and they’re using them too much.”
I glanced at my watch. “Is that all? I’m supposed to be at Mr Chen’s in less than an hour.”
“How is the work going with Mr Chen?”
“He’s taken every private spot I have,” I said. “As soon as I’m finished here, I go straight up to the Peak and spend the rest of the day with Simone.”
This caught her attention. “He is the only client you have outside the Kindergarten?”
I nodded a reply.
She studied me intensely. “Do you like working for him?”
“Sure. He’s very nice. His daughter is delightful. Thanks for giving me his number.”
“How would you like to earn a little more money?”
“You already pay me very well, Miss Kwok. I earn as much as the manager of the kindergarten, you know that.”
Her eyes rested heavily on mine. “If you tell me about some of his business dealings, the names of the people who go in and out of his house while you’re working there, you could earn even more.”
I stared at her.
“I could make it very good for you.”
“No.”
She lifted her head slightly. “You will do this for me, Emma.”
“No,” I said. “I resign.”
“You can’t resign, Emma. You will stay with me.”
“I’ll have a resignation letter on your desk tomorrow morning.”
She grimaced with exasperation.
I met her eyes and held them. “I resign.”
“Nobody in Hong Kong will pay you as well as I do.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “I’ll find something.”
“You have to give me two weeks’ notice,” she said. “You have to continue to work for me for two weeks, Emma.”
“I feel a sudden bout of the ’flu coming on,” I said, then rose, turned, and went out of her office without looking back.
#
I leaned against the divider in the MTR carriage and mused. Done it again. But I was thoroughly sick of being bullied by Miss Kwok; no amount of money she paid me would compensate.
I shook my head as the carriage swayed through the darkness of the Cross-harbour Tunnel. I could not believe her nerve, asking me to tell her about Mr Chen’s activities. I knew she had more business interests than just the chain of kindergartens; she was one of the wealthiest women in Hong Kong. The Merry Widow, the Social Godmother. But asking me to spy on my private clients was just too much.
I sighed. I had a tidy nest egg saved; the combination of Miss Kwok’s excellent salary, together with the fat cheques I received from the private clients over the previous four years, would certainly keep me going for a while. I wasn’t ready to return to Australia, the concept of a mundane life in suburbia wasn’t appealing at all. At only twenty-eight I felt no great rush to settle into anything boring.
I tried to tidy my hair; as usual my short brown ponytail had come out everywhere. Nobody on the train took any notice of me, I was just an uninteresting Westerner, the only one on the train. Medium height, about five six; slightly overweight. Plain clothes, plain face, plain brown shoulder-length hair. Nothing very special at all. But my skills as an English teacher were highly sought after in Hong Kong. I wouldn’t have any trouble finding something new.
Or maybe Singapore. Gifted English teachers were always welcome in Singapore, and the correspondence course I was halfway through could be taken from anywhere in the world.
The train stopped at Admiralty station and I joined the rush onto the platform. I rode the escalator up to ground level and the terminal where I could take a bus to Mr Chen’s apartment on the Peak.
There’s no such thing as Prince Charming; you have to make your own happy endings.
The traffic noise and polluted air hit me like a physical force as I walked out of the station. Chinese New Year had just finished, and the late February weather was cool. There was a hint of humidity in the breeze that suggested the presence of the stifling summer just around the corner.
Maybe Singapore.
#
“And then the Dark King kissed the Dark Queen and the baby Princess good bye,” four year old Simone said, moving the Lego figures around on the cream carpet.
“Why is he the Dark King?” I said.
“Because he is, silly Emma.” Simone leaned forward as she moved the Lego and her tawny hair fell over her shoulders. Her mother had been European, giving her flawless porcelain skin and light brown eyes. She stopped and looked at me blankly, then her face lit up. “Daddy’s home!”
The complicated gears on the metal gate outside the front door clashed, and the lock on the front door rattled. Simone threw herself to her feet and dashed through the living room to the front door. “Daddy!”
Mr Chen came in. Simone’s father was in his mid-forties, and tall for a Chinese, more than six feet. He wore an old-fashioned Chinese cotton jacket and pants, all in black, and he moved with restrained power that hinted at hard muscle. He had very long hair, well past his waist, and as usual it had come out from its tie and fallen over his shoulder. He ignored it as he kicked off his shoes.
When he saw Simone, he bent and held one hand out to her, and she raced to him with her arms up. He hoisted her easily with one hand, and with the other snapped the sword he’d been carrying into its clips on the wall.
Simone threw her little arms around his neck and kissed him loudly on the cheek. He smiled at her, his dark eyes sparkling, then saw me over her shoulder and nodded, more serious. “Miss Donahoe.”
I rose and nodded back to him; I was always careful to treat Chinese employers with respect. Employer. He was the only one left, now. He had taken every private spot as they had freed up, and I suspected he’d even negotiated with some of the other parents to release me so that I could work for him.
“And what have you been doing?” he asked Simone.
“Ngoh tong Emma – ” Simone began.
“English, Simone,” he said with mock ire.
Simone giggled and started again. “Me and Emma have been playing Legos. We’ve been having fun.”
“Good.” He lowered Simone carefully. “Go and play with Miss Donahoe.” He turned to the door in the hallway behind him. “Monica!”
Monica, the Filipina domestic helper, opened the kitchen door a crack and poked her head out. She saw Mr Chen, threw the door open, and came into the hallway, wiping her hands on a towel. She was short, round, and middle-aged, with a kind face. “Sorry, sir, didn’t know you were home.” She saw the Lego strewn on the living room carpet. “Sorry about the mess, sir, I’ll clean it up.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “Make me some noodles while I take a shower. Ho fan, soup, choy sum. Not too much, I may go out again later.” He stopped and concentrated. “Why is Leo downstairs?”
“He’s washing the car,” Monica said. “It was very dirty, sir.”
“Call him on his mobile and tell him to come back up right now,” Mr Chen said.
Monica disappeared into the kitchen.
“How long do you think you can stay, Miss Donahoe?”
“As long as you like, Mr Chen,” I said. “I resigned at the kindergarten this afternoon, I don’t need to be in early tomorrow.”
He was obviously concerned. “You’ve found a new job? You’ll be leaving us?”
“Don’t go, Emma!” Simone cried.
“I won’t go, I was just tired of working for Kitty Kwok. I’ll find something else, but don’t worry, I won’t leave you.”
“Good,” Simone said, and returned to the Lego.
“So how long will you need me?” I said.
He smiled gently. “About fifteen years. How about coming here full-time?” He raised his hand. “Wait, don’t answer, let me shower and change first, and then we can talk about it.” He strode down the hall towards his room.
“You can stay forever?” Simone said, wide-eyed with delight.
“I don’t know, Simone,” I said. “I’ll need to think about it.”
Her little face screwed up with hope. “Please say yes.”
The gate and the front door opened and Leo came in. Mr Chen’s driver was a black American, nearly six and a half feet tall, and a wall of muscle. He had a spectacularly ugly face, the centrepiece of which was an artistically broken nose, but he had a kind smile and adored Simone.
“Hi, Leo,” Simone said without looking at him.
“Hi, Simone, Emma.” Leo kicked off his shoes at the front door then poked his nose into the living room. “Where is he?”
“Having a shower,” I said.
He nodded.
Simone jumped up and turned to speak to him. “Guess what, Leo?”
His small brown eyes sparkled at her. “What?”
“Emma’s going to stay for ever.”
Leo glanced sharply at me. “Is that right.”
“No, no,” I said. “He just asked me to go full time. But I have to think about it.”
Leo came into the living room and towered over us. He crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Actually, Emma, it would be a good idea if you came full-time. You’re the best teacher Simone’s ever had.”
“Thanks, Leo, that means a lot to me.” I glanced down at Simone’s hope-filled face. “I’ll think about it.”
Mr Chen came down the hallway barefoot, towelling his damp hair. He always wore incredibly scruffy clothes at home, and this evening was no exception. His black t-shirt was faded and frayed, and his black cotton pants had a large shredded hole in one knee.
He had unusually dark eyes, nearly black; and the sculpted face of a Southern Chinese, with prominent cheekbones and a strong chin. He pulled the towel from his hair and threw it over one shoulder. He bent, ran his hand through his long hair, tossed it back, and smiled into my eyes.
Suddenly Singapore didn’t seem so good.
Mr Chen saw Leo and scowled. “You. In here. Now.” He turned and went into the dining room across the hall without looking back.
Leo dropped his bald head and skulked into the dining room after Mr Chen.
“Leo’s in big trouble,” Simone confided to me, breathless. “My Dad’s going to yell at him a lot.”
“Why? He just washed the car. That’s what a driver does.”
“He’s not supposed to leave us alone,” Simone said, deadly serious. “We could get hurt.”
“Hurt? Who by?”
She leaned closer and whispered. “Bad people.”
Good God, Leo wasn’t a driver, he was a bodyguard. All children of rich families in Hong Kong were targets; kidnapping didn’t happen often, but it did happen. Of course he was a bodyguard, it was obvious. No wonder Mr Chen was so upset about Leo leaving us in the apartment alone.
Simone nodded, her eyes still wide. “That’s why Daddy carries his sword everywhere. Bad people.”
“Sword?” I said.
Simone pointed towards the sword on its clips next to the front door.
I jerked back with shock. What was he doing running around with a sword in his hand? And why the hell hadn’t I paid the sword any attention before? I had been working part-time there for six months, and I hadn’t noticed it on the wall until Simone pointed it out to me.
“Why does he carry a sword, Simone?” I said.
“’Cause of the bad people, of course,” Simone said, as if that explained everything.
“Does he work with the movie studios? Does he teach martial arts?”
“Arts.” Simone shrugged. “Stuff. Daddy’s stuff.”
I suddenly realized that I had no idea how Mr Chen made his money, and he was obviously extremely wealthy. He could be involved in organized crime. I’d worked for him for six months, nearly every evening, and he didn’t seem like that sort of person to me. But I had to wonder.
“What stuff does Daddy do?”
Before Simone could answer, the dining room door opened and Leo came out, cowed and miserable. He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Your turn, Emma. Simone can go to Monica for a bath.”
“I want Emma to bath me!” Simone yelled.
“I have to go and talk to your Daddy about working full-time, remember?”
“Ooh, yes.” She pushed me towards the dining room. “Go and talk to him.”
Mr Chen had tied back his long hair and was checking the mail when I went into the dining room.
“Sit, Miss Donahoe.” He pushed his ho fan noodles aside. “Now.”
“Eat,” I said. “You look starving.”
He smiled and his eyes wrinkled up. “No, no, it can wait. Full-time. Yes or no?”
“You haven’t even told me how much you’ll pay me or what hours I’ll be working, Mr Chen. I can’t decide until you tell me.”
“Yes, you’re quite right. How about six days a week, live-in, full-time? Sunday off, that’s Monica’s and Leo’s day off. I can probably give you a few extra days off a month as well. Five thousand US a month.”
I fell back slightly. “Five thousand US?”
He nodded. “I think it’s a generous offer. Room and board as well, live-in. Is that acceptable?”
Sixty thousand US a year, to be a nanny? I studied him. He seemed genuine. I’d worked part-time for him for six months, and he’d been perfectly honourable in his dealings. There was just one question I needed the answer to.
“Mr Chen,” I said, then finished the question in a rush. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”
He stared at me, completely blank.
“I mean, is the ICAC likely to come in with guns and burst down the door and drag you away?”
He still stared at me, then snapped out of it. “Nothing I am involved in is illegal. The ICAC could not possibly be interested in me. All of my activities are perfectly legal. I would never put Simone’s happiness in danger.”
“Why do you have a bodyguard, then?”
He watched me silently for a while, then spoke. “Leo protects Simone.”
“Are there people after you?”
His eyes were very intense. “I am powerful. That makes me a target. You don’t need to worry, you will never be in danger if you work for me.”
“Is that why you carry a sword around? Don’t the police stop you?”
“I never carry the sword in the street. It stays in the car when I go out.”
I leaned forward over the dining table. “What do you do for a living, Mr Chen?”
His dark eyes looked straight into mine. “I will tell you after you’ve worked here for a while. If you decide to stay.”
“Why wouldn’t I decide to stay?”
He smoothly avoided the question. “Will you take the job, Miss Donahoe?”
I hesitated. Sixty thousand US dollars a year, a delightful little girl, and a handsome mystery man. How could I say no? “Yes.”
He smiled, full of warmth and good humour. “When can you start?”
“I could start tomorrow, but I’d need to sort out my rent first. Oh,” I said as I remembered, “I had to give Miss Kwok two weeks’ notice.”
He waved it away. “I know Kitty Kwok, she gave me your number in the first place. I’ll sort it out with her, and I’ll fix it up with your flatmate. You can move in tomorrow if you like. You can live in?”
“Sure.”
He rose and held out his hand, and I shook it. He had surprisingly cool hands, with hard calluses on his fingers. “Leo will help you move your belongings tomorrow. Welcome aboard.”
I shook my head as I went down the hall to say goodnight to Simone. Done it again. Two snap decisions in one day; that was a new record, even for me. I didn’t even know where my room would be.
Paperback
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers (Australia) Pty Ltd (July 24, 2006)
ISBN-10: 0732282969
ISBN-13: 978-0732282967
Chapter One
“Emma, this is your final warning. If you do not wear a suit to my kindergarten, I will dock your pay.” Miss Kwok sighed theatrically and glared at me over her reading glasses. “Jeans are not acceptable at any of my kindergartens. More smartly dressed. Remember.”
I didn’t say anything. I just wanted to be out of her office and up to Mr Chen’s.
“Your hair is unacceptable as well. You should come with me to the salon. Your hair is messy, you don’t wear makeup; really, Emma, your whole appearance is just not good enough. You should work harder to make yourself more presentable.”
A flood of words hit the back of my throat and I swallowed them all.
“I have had some complaints from the parents.” She shuffled the papers on the desk. Her face appeared early forties, the work of an excellent plastic surgeon, but her hands showed her true age. “The parents say you are spending too much time talking with the children and not enough time teaching them the abc’s.”
“Talking is the best way to learn English,” I said.
“Well, make sure they learn their abc’s. They need to be able to recite the alphabet and spell some words to pass the examinations for first grade. They’re here to cram for the best schools, you know that.”
I tried to control my face as I thought about what I’d like to do to a school that had examinations for entry into first grade.
“Well?”
I shrugged. “It’s your school, Miss Kwok. I’ll do more abc’s.”
“I do not like your attitude sometimes, Emma.” Her voice became more fierce. “Oh, and stop wasting the drawing materials. I only budget for one set a year and they’re using them too much.”
I glanced at my watch. “Is that all? I’m supposed to be at Mr Chen’s in less than an hour.”
“How is the work going with Mr Chen?”
“He’s taken every private spot I have,” I said. “As soon as I’m finished here, I go straight up to the Peak and spend the rest of the day with Simone.”
This caught her attention. “He is the only client you have outside the Kindergarten?”
I nodded a reply.
She studied me intensely. “Do you like working for him?”
“Sure. He’s very nice. His daughter is delightful. Thanks for giving me his number.”
“How would you like to earn a little more money?”
“You already pay me very well, Miss Kwok. I earn as much as the manager of the kindergarten, you know that.”
Her eyes rested heavily on mine. “If you tell me about some of his business dealings, the names of the people who go in and out of his house while you’re working there, you could earn even more.”
I stared at her.
“I could make it very good for you.”
“No.”
She lifted her head slightly. “You will do this for me, Emma.”
“No,” I said. “I resign.”
“You can’t resign, Emma. You will stay with me.”
“I’ll have a resignation letter on your desk tomorrow morning.”
She grimaced with exasperation.
I met her eyes and held them. “I resign.”
“Nobody in Hong Kong will pay you as well as I do.”
“I don’t care,” I said. “I’ll find something.”
“You have to give me two weeks’ notice,” she said. “You have to continue to work for me for two weeks, Emma.”
“I feel a sudden bout of the ’flu coming on,” I said, then rose, turned, and went out of her office without looking back.
#
I leaned against the divider in the MTR carriage and mused. Done it again. But I was thoroughly sick of being bullied by Miss Kwok; no amount of money she paid me would compensate.
I shook my head as the carriage swayed through the darkness of the Cross-harbour Tunnel. I could not believe her nerve, asking me to tell her about Mr Chen’s activities. I knew she had more business interests than just the chain of kindergartens; she was one of the wealthiest women in Hong Kong. The Merry Widow, the Social Godmother. But asking me to spy on my private clients was just too much.
I sighed. I had a tidy nest egg saved; the combination of Miss Kwok’s excellent salary, together with the fat cheques I received from the private clients over the previous four years, would certainly keep me going for a while. I wasn’t ready to return to Australia, the concept of a mundane life in suburbia wasn’t appealing at all. At only twenty-eight I felt no great rush to settle into anything boring.
I tried to tidy my hair; as usual my short brown ponytail had come out everywhere. Nobody on the train took any notice of me, I was just an uninteresting Westerner, the only one on the train. Medium height, about five six; slightly overweight. Plain clothes, plain face, plain brown shoulder-length hair. Nothing very special at all. But my skills as an English teacher were highly sought after in Hong Kong. I wouldn’t have any trouble finding something new.
Or maybe Singapore. Gifted English teachers were always welcome in Singapore, and the correspondence course I was halfway through could be taken from anywhere in the world.
The train stopped at Admiralty station and I joined the rush onto the platform. I rode the escalator up to ground level and the terminal where I could take a bus to Mr Chen’s apartment on the Peak.
There’s no such thing as Prince Charming; you have to make your own happy endings.
The traffic noise and polluted air hit me like a physical force as I walked out of the station. Chinese New Year had just finished, and the late February weather was cool. There was a hint of humidity in the breeze that suggested the presence of the stifling summer just around the corner.
Maybe Singapore.
#
“And then the Dark King kissed the Dark Queen and the baby Princess good bye,” four year old Simone said, moving the Lego figures around on the cream carpet.
“Why is he the Dark King?” I said.
“Because he is, silly Emma.” Simone leaned forward as she moved the Lego and her tawny hair fell over her shoulders. Her mother had been European, giving her flawless porcelain skin and light brown eyes. She stopped and looked at me blankly, then her face lit up. “Daddy’s home!”
The complicated gears on the metal gate outside the front door clashed, and the lock on the front door rattled. Simone threw herself to her feet and dashed through the living room to the front door. “Daddy!”
Mr Chen came in. Simone’s father was in his mid-forties, and tall for a Chinese, more than six feet. He wore an old-fashioned Chinese cotton jacket and pants, all in black, and he moved with restrained power that hinted at hard muscle. He had very long hair, well past his waist, and as usual it had come out from its tie and fallen over his shoulder. He ignored it as he kicked off his shoes.
When he saw Simone, he bent and held one hand out to her, and she raced to him with her arms up. He hoisted her easily with one hand, and with the other snapped the sword he’d been carrying into its clips on the wall.
Simone threw her little arms around his neck and kissed him loudly on the cheek. He smiled at her, his dark eyes sparkling, then saw me over her shoulder and nodded, more serious. “Miss Donahoe.”
I rose and nodded back to him; I was always careful to treat Chinese employers with respect. Employer. He was the only one left, now. He had taken every private spot as they had freed up, and I suspected he’d even negotiated with some of the other parents to release me so that I could work for him.
“And what have you been doing?” he asked Simone.
“Ngoh tong Emma – ” Simone began.
“English, Simone,” he said with mock ire.
Simone giggled and started again. “Me and Emma have been playing Legos. We’ve been having fun.”
“Good.” He lowered Simone carefully. “Go and play with Miss Donahoe.” He turned to the door in the hallway behind him. “Monica!”
Monica, the Filipina domestic helper, opened the kitchen door a crack and poked her head out. She saw Mr Chen, threw the door open, and came into the hallway, wiping her hands on a towel. She was short, round, and middle-aged, with a kind face. “Sorry, sir, didn’t know you were home.” She saw the Lego strewn on the living room carpet. “Sorry about the mess, sir, I’ll clean it up.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “Make me some noodles while I take a shower. Ho fan, soup, choy sum. Not too much, I may go out again later.” He stopped and concentrated. “Why is Leo downstairs?”
“He’s washing the car,” Monica said. “It was very dirty, sir.”
“Call him on his mobile and tell him to come back up right now,” Mr Chen said.
Monica disappeared into the kitchen.
“How long do you think you can stay, Miss Donahoe?”
“As long as you like, Mr Chen,” I said. “I resigned at the kindergarten this afternoon, I don’t need to be in early tomorrow.”
He was obviously concerned. “You’ve found a new job? You’ll be leaving us?”
“Don’t go, Emma!” Simone cried.
“I won’t go, I was just tired of working for Kitty Kwok. I’ll find something else, but don’t worry, I won’t leave you.”
“Good,” Simone said, and returned to the Lego.
“So how long will you need me?” I said.
He smiled gently. “About fifteen years. How about coming here full-time?” He raised his hand. “Wait, don’t answer, let me shower and change first, and then we can talk about it.” He strode down the hall towards his room.
“You can stay forever?” Simone said, wide-eyed with delight.
“I don’t know, Simone,” I said. “I’ll need to think about it.”
Her little face screwed up with hope. “Please say yes.”
The gate and the front door opened and Leo came in. Mr Chen’s driver was a black American, nearly six and a half feet tall, and a wall of muscle. He had a spectacularly ugly face, the centrepiece of which was an artistically broken nose, but he had a kind smile and adored Simone.
“Hi, Leo,” Simone said without looking at him.
“Hi, Simone, Emma.” Leo kicked off his shoes at the front door then poked his nose into the living room. “Where is he?”
“Having a shower,” I said.
He nodded.
Simone jumped up and turned to speak to him. “Guess what, Leo?”
His small brown eyes sparkled at her. “What?”
“Emma’s going to stay for ever.”
Leo glanced sharply at me. “Is that right.”
“No, no,” I said. “He just asked me to go full time. But I have to think about it.”
Leo came into the living room and towered over us. He crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Actually, Emma, it would be a good idea if you came full-time. You’re the best teacher Simone’s ever had.”
“Thanks, Leo, that means a lot to me.” I glanced down at Simone’s hope-filled face. “I’ll think about it.”
Mr Chen came down the hallway barefoot, towelling his damp hair. He always wore incredibly scruffy clothes at home, and this evening was no exception. His black t-shirt was faded and frayed, and his black cotton pants had a large shredded hole in one knee.
He had unusually dark eyes, nearly black; and the sculpted face of a Southern Chinese, with prominent cheekbones and a strong chin. He pulled the towel from his hair and threw it over one shoulder. He bent, ran his hand through his long hair, tossed it back, and smiled into my eyes.
Suddenly Singapore didn’t seem so good.
Mr Chen saw Leo and scowled. “You. In here. Now.” He turned and went into the dining room across the hall without looking back.
Leo dropped his bald head and skulked into the dining room after Mr Chen.
“Leo’s in big trouble,” Simone confided to me, breathless. “My Dad’s going to yell at him a lot.”
“Why? He just washed the car. That’s what a driver does.”
“He’s not supposed to leave us alone,” Simone said, deadly serious. “We could get hurt.”
“Hurt? Who by?”
She leaned closer and whispered. “Bad people.”
Good God, Leo wasn’t a driver, he was a bodyguard. All children of rich families in Hong Kong were targets; kidnapping didn’t happen often, but it did happen. Of course he was a bodyguard, it was obvious. No wonder Mr Chen was so upset about Leo leaving us in the apartment alone.
Simone nodded, her eyes still wide. “That’s why Daddy carries his sword everywhere. Bad people.”
“Sword?” I said.
Simone pointed towards the sword on its clips next to the front door.
I jerked back with shock. What was he doing running around with a sword in his hand? And why the hell hadn’t I paid the sword any attention before? I had been working part-time there for six months, and I hadn’t noticed it on the wall until Simone pointed it out to me.
“Why does he carry a sword, Simone?” I said.
“’Cause of the bad people, of course,” Simone said, as if that explained everything.
“Does he work with the movie studios? Does he teach martial arts?”
“Arts.” Simone shrugged. “Stuff. Daddy’s stuff.”
I suddenly realized that I had no idea how Mr Chen made his money, and he was obviously extremely wealthy. He could be involved in organized crime. I’d worked for him for six months, nearly every evening, and he didn’t seem like that sort of person to me. But I had to wonder.
“What stuff does Daddy do?”
Before Simone could answer, the dining room door opened and Leo came out, cowed and miserable. He gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Your turn, Emma. Simone can go to Monica for a bath.”
“I want Emma to bath me!” Simone yelled.
“I have to go and talk to your Daddy about working full-time, remember?”
“Ooh, yes.” She pushed me towards the dining room. “Go and talk to him.”
Mr Chen had tied back his long hair and was checking the mail when I went into the dining room.
“Sit, Miss Donahoe.” He pushed his ho fan noodles aside. “Now.”
“Eat,” I said. “You look starving.”
He smiled and his eyes wrinkled up. “No, no, it can wait. Full-time. Yes or no?”
“You haven’t even told me how much you’ll pay me or what hours I’ll be working, Mr Chen. I can’t decide until you tell me.”
“Yes, you’re quite right. How about six days a week, live-in, full-time? Sunday off, that’s Monica’s and Leo’s day off. I can probably give you a few extra days off a month as well. Five thousand US a month.”
I fell back slightly. “Five thousand US?”
He nodded. “I think it’s a generous offer. Room and board as well, live-in. Is that acceptable?”
Sixty thousand US a year, to be a nanny? I studied him. He seemed genuine. I’d worked part-time for him for six months, and he’d been perfectly honourable in his dealings. There was just one question I needed the answer to.
“Mr Chen,” I said, then finished the question in a rush. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”
He stared at me, completely blank.
“I mean, is the ICAC likely to come in with guns and burst down the door and drag you away?”
He still stared at me, then snapped out of it. “Nothing I am involved in is illegal. The ICAC could not possibly be interested in me. All of my activities are perfectly legal. I would never put Simone’s happiness in danger.”
“Why do you have a bodyguard, then?”
He watched me silently for a while, then spoke. “Leo protects Simone.”
“Are there people after you?”
His eyes were very intense. “I am powerful. That makes me a target. You don’t need to worry, you will never be in danger if you work for me.”
“Is that why you carry a sword around? Don’t the police stop you?”
“I never carry the sword in the street. It stays in the car when I go out.”
I leaned forward over the dining table. “What do you do for a living, Mr Chen?”
His dark eyes looked straight into mine. “I will tell you after you’ve worked here for a while. If you decide to stay.”
“Why wouldn’t I decide to stay?”
He smoothly avoided the question. “Will you take the job, Miss Donahoe?”
I hesitated. Sixty thousand US dollars a year, a delightful little girl, and a handsome mystery man. How could I say no? “Yes.”
He smiled, full of warmth and good humour. “When can you start?”
“I could start tomorrow, but I’d need to sort out my rent first. Oh,” I said as I remembered, “I had to give Miss Kwok two weeks’ notice.”
He waved it away. “I know Kitty Kwok, she gave me your number in the first place. I’ll sort it out with her, and I’ll fix it up with your flatmate. You can move in tomorrow if you like. You can live in?”
“Sure.”
He rose and held out his hand, and I shook it. He had surprisingly cool hands, with hard calluses on his fingers. “Leo will help you move your belongings tomorrow. Welcome aboard.”
I shook my head as I went down the hall to say goodnight to Simone. Done it again. Two snap decisions in one day; that was a new record, even for me. I didn’t even know where my room would be.