Courtney looks at me over her latte. “How many languages do you speak?”
Right. She heard me speak English, Cantonese, and Mandarin in the last three minutes.
“I speak five fluently. French and Toisanese, in addition to what you already heard.”
“What did you speak at home?”
“English, usually. Both my parents were born here. Some Toisanese, but that was mostly with my grandparents.”
My brothers don’t speak any Chinese languages fluently, although they know a little, but languages were always easy for me.
“What about other languages?” she asks. “You said you speak fivefluently.”
“Spanish, Japanese, and German.”
She looks at me, wide-eyed. “You make me feel like a failure. I speak Cantonese, but my French is shit and my Mandarin is even worse.”
“You have a PhD. Not many people go that far in school.Idon’t have a PhD.”
“Maybe not, Mr. Moneybags, but I’m sure you’re smart enough to get one if that’s what you wanted. But, no, you’re too busy running the world.”
The last thing I want is to make her feel inferior. “You are—”
“Forget I said that.” She waves her hand away from her. “It’s all good. I’m happy with my life.” A shadow briefly passes over her face, but I know she won’t tell me what it’s about, even though I want to know all about her.
Forty-five minutes later, I set out plates and chopsticks, and Courtney opens up all the food that was delivered.
“This smells amazing,” she says.
It tastes amazing, too. Even thecheong fanis good, though rice noodle rolls aren’t my favorite. But the soup dumplings are certainly the best.
Or maybe the best part is that Courtney is sitting across from me.
* * *
We’re reading in loungechairs on my rooftop patio. About two-thirds of the rooftop is available for anyone in the building to enjoy, but the rest of it is mine, although I rarely come up here. Courtney was aghast when she learned this and insisted we make good use of it. Since I’d finishedComo agua para chocolate,she dragged me to the bookstore and ordered me to pick out a book without first doing research and reading reviews. An attempt to make me more spontaneous, I guess. I had to choose a book based only on the cover and blurb—the horror!
The thriller I selected is pretty good so far, although I’ve only read six pages because I keep looking at Courtney. She’s sitting across from me, her legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. She’s wearing a pink sundress that goes down to her knees, and if she uncrossed her legs...
I can’t stop thinking about it.
Anyway, I’m supposed to be reading, not ogling her.
We read in silence for an hour, and it’s comfortable just being with her like this. Together, but not feeling the need to entertain each other. I’d be able to read twice as fast if she weren’t here, but I wouldn’t wish it any other way. I feel a sense of peace when I’m with her, even if I want to lick every inch of her body. Unlike usual, I don’t feel the need to push myself and be as efficient as possible. It’s rather nice.
She glances up and catches me looking at her, and I don’t hide what I’ve been doing.
I smile at her lazily. “I’m enjoying the view.”
She rolls her eyes.
“What?” I say. “It’s true.”
“You’re such a charmer.”
“Not really. That’s Vince.”
She tilts her head to the side. “No, I think it’s you.” Then she mutters, under her breath, “At least that’s what you do tome.” She returns her attention to her book, but I’m not ready to let it go, not quite yet.
