“Bostonlobster spaghetti?” I repeated dubiously.
She laughed. “Does the Italian gentleman not approve?”
“We’ll see,” I muttered as I twirled some of the noodles onto a fork and took a bite.
“Well?”
I made ahmmmmface. “Not bad.”
The consistency of the pasta wasn’t that great, but the spices – which were Asian rather than Italian – were interesting.
“Good‘not bad,’ ormeh‘not bad’?” Mei-ling asked.
“Well, I’ve never tasted anything like it in Italy.”
“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or a complaint.”
“It’s growing on me,” I said as I pried some of the lobster meat out of the shell.
“You can order something else if you don’t like it.”
“No, no,” I said after I chewed and swallowed. “The lobster is excellent.”
“Just not the spaghetti.”
“You’re talking to an Italian,” I said drily. “I have slightly different standards than most people in Hong Kong.”
Mei-ling laughed, then squeezed a lemon onto an oyster and sucked it out of its shell.
We ate and chatted until we were full.
At the end of the meal, things took a slightly serious turn… although it didn’t seem that way at first.
“How long will you be in Hong Kong?” Mei-ling asked, her voice casual.
“I don’t know. I’m here on business, and when it’s concluded, I have to leave.”
“How long will that take?”
“Again, I don’t know. I’m waiting on some other people to come to Hong Kong for a meeting, but they’re taking their sweet time about it.”
“Oh,” she said and looked down at the table.
I reached my hand across the table and took hers. “What?”
She looked up, gave me a forced smile, and looked back down. “Nothing.”
“No – what?”
She kept looking at the table when she spoke. “It’s just… I’m going to miss you.”
My heart skipped a beat when she said it.
“I have some urgent things to attend to back home, but as soon as they’re taken care of, I’m coming back to see you,” I promised.
She looked up at me in annoyance. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
