I stood in the crowded arrivals line in the Pudong Airport in Shanghai China, holding a sign that read, "Welcome Robert and Anna!!!"
That morning the CEO had called me from America, not unheard of but rare.
"Push your return flight out a few days," he said. "We have clients flying in to Shanghai, looking to buy a company. Support is on the way, but you'll need to handle it for the weekend."
He gave me the details. CFO and a forensic accountant. Names, schedules, reservation details. Their job was to crawl inside the books of this prospective company and determine if it was worth buying.
I needed to show them around for the weekend as a kind of personal favor between rich old business owners. It didn't matter if I was the right person for the job. I was the only American we had in Shanghai, at least for the weekend.
"And Mark?" the CEO said.
"Yeah?"
"Spend some money for Godsakes," he said. "These are executives."
"Yes sir."
So I had a reputation for austerity. I didn't mind. I took pride in being low maintenance. Shoot me out of a cannon from space, and I would get to work. Help.
Even so, the timing was bad. My ticket back to America was already booked. I'd been in China for too long, months instead of weeks. My sister Sarah was organizing a birthday party for me, one I was going to miss.
I waited for strangers to arrive, reminding myself that I chose this life. I wasn't nervous, but... What do you call a dinner with two accountants and an engineer? It sounded like a joke, but I didn't know the punchline. Awkward silence?
The foot traffic picked up. Americans. This had to be the flight. I watched for couples, a man and a woman walking together, projecting expectations on to strangers. Executive. Accountant.
There weren't many couples, and I found myself watching attractive women instead. A tall blond, maybe forty, but with nice legs. Older man and trophy wife. Fake breasts. A short woman in a Dallas Mavericks hoodie, dark hair and a nice ass, rolling along with a giant suitcase, big enough to fit inside.
I sighed, too long in China. I had sworn off dating foreign women. On a long enough time line, distance and culture doomed every relationship. Chinese women, the kind I was attracted to at least, weren't interested in casual dating, and truthfully neither was I.
"Mark?"
The dark haired woman with the nice ass stopped in front of me.
"Anna?"
She nodded. Anna was much younger than I anticipated, maybe thirty, maybe younger. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Large brown eyes and light skin. It's impossible to look your best after that flight, but even so, she was cute. Anna flashed a brilliant smile and extended a hand. I shook it.
"Where's Robert?" I asked.
"Scratched," Anna said. "Family emergency. He's okay, but yeah. Just me."
She bent over, reaching for shoelaces that had come loose. I wasn't trying to look, but I couldn't help but see the gap between her loose hoodie and t-shirt, to her ample cleavage and a sports bra.
I turned away, a shot of lust and also embarrassment. Had she noticed?
"Here's my card," I said. It felt important, a connection to my broader organization, letting her know I was who I claimed to be. She looked at the card then at me.
"A little young to be a Director," she said.
"I could say the same about you."
"I'm not a Dir--" she started.
"But you're here," I said, "Titles don't mean much anyway, all that matters is responsibility..."
Anna stared at me.
"Seems like you have plenty," I finished.
She sighed, a big heave of her shoulders. "Seems so."
"We have a car waiting," I said. I grabbed her giant suitcase and started rolling. It was the kind of luggage college kids pack when they are moving for a semester, trying to pack up their whole life.
"Great," she said. Anna pretended to be excited. I could tell she was tired.
"Mavericks fan?"
"Big time," she said.
"Luka or--"
"Dirk," she said.
We walked down the long corridors of the Pudong Airport.
"You in the military?" Anna asked.
"No," I said.
"Were you?"
"I do push ups. Gym access here is--"
"I meant your hair," she said.
"Oh," I said. "No. Getting a haircut in China is awkward, so I started doing it myself."
I turned to look at Anna. She was watching me, studying words or maybe my body language, drawing conclusions about me.
--
Anna and I loaded in to the company car. The driver shot me a burst of Mandarin, confirming destination and plans. Then we were off, navigating a dark maze of parking garage then out to the overcast exterior, to the underdeveloped "country side" around the Pudong airport.
"It's a long drive across the city," I said, "two hours maybe. I imagine you're tired."
"I have to stay up," she said, "only way to beat jet lag."
Anna stared out the window. I needed to give her space. That flight wore everyone out. Shanghai was my hobby, my real passion outside of work. I was a font of trivia and history, but I bit my tongue. Anna didn't need me talking about the opium wars or Mao ZeDong.
So I watched her watch the city, trying to see it again with fresh eyes. As I was studying her, Anna pulled her hoodie off over her head, no time to look away. It clung to her t-shirt, dragging it up her body, exposing pale skin almost up to her breasts. She wasn't thin in the typical Chinese girl kind of way. She looked... better.
I felt a stir of attraction as I tried to look away. Pulling off her hoodie triggered an inappropriate response, my body only registering that this cute woman was taking off her clothes. I had to force my eyes away from her very nice, very full breasts. Jesus. Too long in China or without a girlfriend. Both.
I spoke to the driver in Mandarin. My vocabulary here wasn't perfect. "We, right now, are hot. Please. Cold."
He nodded and cranked the AC.
"Thanks," she said. "You speak Mandarin?"
"Just barely," I said, but I wasn't sure if that was still true. I had been studying hard and spending weeks at a time in China. Fragments of language were starting to pull together. "You know what... actually, yes?"
"But you cut your own hair?" she asked.
"I may not have that vocabulary..." I said, "even in English."
She smiled at me. "I didn't want to say it..."
We were in traffic, running parallel with the elevated Maglev line. A train wooshed by.
"Did that train have wheels?" she asked.
"No," I said.
My phone started ringing. Anna looked at me. It was my sister, Sarah, calling from the states. She wouldn't like my news. I silenced the call.
Sarah called again.
"You can take that," Anna said.
She wouldn't stop calling. It was my birthday, and the more Sarah thought I was avoiding her, the more she would keep calling. I answered.
"Hi Sarah."
She immediately erupted in to
Happy Birthday,
so loud I held the phone away from my ear, not even on speaker but her voice still carried across the car. Sarah's tone became increasingly desperate as she rounded to the end.
Anna was all smiles, chuckling at my discomfort.
"Are you boarding your flight?" Sarah asked.
"Um," I started, "Sarah I have something--"
"You're staying in China," she said. I heard the disappointment in her voice.
"I'm with a customer," I said. "I need to call you back."