Three Months to Forever Page 2

  She handed him a couple of stapled packets. “Here you go. This is the Hong Kong compliance manual, which is basically an addendum to the global manual. The bulk of it deals with local requirements for the Hong Kong Securities and Futures Commission. However, since you will not be advising on securities, you do not need to be registered with the SFC.”

  Ben nodded his understanding. The fact that on-boarding staff didn’t need to register with the local financial regulatory authority was one of the main reasons why Ben and other Canadians had been able to go to Hong Kong on short notice. They were responsible for setting up new client accounts and wire transfer instructions, running anti-money-laundering checks to make sure the bank wasn’t complicit in illegal money movements, and making sure client files were complete under regulatory requirements. The relationship managers brought in new clients, the portfolio analysts gave investment advice; Ben’s team made sure all the logistics ran smoothly in the background. Some said it was a boring job. Sometimes Ben thought it was too, but he was good at it—one of the best performers on his team, in fact.

  Macey spent the next twenty minutes going over the rest of the compliance manual and the local employee handbook. None of it was surprising to Ben; all the workplace safety policies were similar to those in Canada.

  As they were wrapping up, Macey asked, “Have you been to Hong Kong before?”

  “No, it’s my first time in Asia.” Ben gathered his things and stood.

  “What made you want to come now?” Macey flicked off the light switch and shut the meeting room door behind them.

  Ben had been asked that question a lot in the few short weeks between when his assignment had been approved and when he had to jump on a plane to the other side of the planet. If he was honest, though, he wasn’t entirely sure why he had put his hand up when management asked for volunteers to go to Hong Kong. It had almost been a whim, something he did on impulse just to see what would happen.

  He knew next to nothing about Hong Kong and didn’t speak the language; he never thought they’d pick him of all people. But he knew how to do the job and he was available to leave for an extended period of time on very short notice. Whatever the reason, Ben was glad for the opportunity. It might have started out as a whim, but deep in the marrow of his bones, he knew it was the right thing to do—it was something he had to do, like something was waiting for him on the other side of the world.

  “I’ve always wanted to see this part of the world,” he said. Macey didn’t need a lengthy confession of his philosophical yearnings.

  “I grew up in Toronto,” Macey said. “But my family is from Hong Kong. Moving back here was probably the best decision I’ve ever made. You’ll love it.”

  Ben hoped so.

  Chapter Two

  Wednesday, September 6

  THE THUNDEROUS roar of hooves against the sandy ground echoed past, drowning out the shouts of the crowd gathered at the Happy Valley Racecourse. Ben added his voice to the din and pumped his hand in the air, only to have his beer spill all over his arm.

  “Ah fuck!” He laughed, shaking off the excess alcohol.

  “Ha, bro! You suck at this,” Mo shouted at him with a giant smile on his face. “You keep betting on the slow-ass horses!”

  “Fuck off,” Ben threw back as he tried to brush away the alcohol before it soaked into the rolled-up sleeve of his dress shirt. “Shit. I’ve got to go find napkins.”

  He headed toward the food stands, weaving between groups of spectators chatting loudly about which horse to bet on for the next race. He ducked past lines of people waiting to take photos with some costumed cartoon character he didn’t recognize and finally spotted a napkin dispenser next to a condiments table.

  “Ben Dutton?”

  Ben glanced up at his name and didn’t recognize any of the faces around him until he did a double-take and landed on one staring intently back at him. Dark eyes, firmly pressed lips, and neatly cut black hair. Sai. Oh God. Sai.

  “Hey!” He could hear the slightly over-the-top enthusiasm in his voice and decided to try again with a little more moderation. “Hey, Sai. How’s it going?”

  “I’m doing well. Are you okay?” Sai nodded to Ben’s handful of napkins.

  “What? Oh yeah. I’m good. I just spilled beer all over myself.”

  “I see.” Amusement tinged Sai’s eyes and made Ben’s stomach flutter in anticipation. He forgot where he was for a moment, lost in the hold Sai had over him. Then Sai cocked his head, and the spell was broken.

  Ben tossed the soiled napkins in the nearby garbage bin and shifted from one foot to the other, unsure where to look and what to say.

  “Are you here with your colleagues?” Sai’s intonation dipped in unexpected places; it was a siren song to Ben’s ears.

  “Yeah. They’re, uh, over by the rails over there.” He waved his hand toward the end of the track.

  Sai nodded before speaking. “Do you remember Winston?”

  Winston, right, Sai’s friend. “Yeah, yeah, of course I remember him. He’s with the French guy, right?”

  Sai chuckled. “Jacques, yes. We’ve got a box up there.” He looked over his shoulder at a blocked-off area of the bleachers, and Ben spotted Winston watching them with blatant interest. “Would you care to join us?”

  Ben thought for a split second about Mo and the rest of his coworkers and then dismissed them. “Yeah, sure. I’d love to.”

  “What about your colleagues?” Sai looked skeptical.

  Ben shrugged. “I’ll just message them. It’s fine.”

  Sai gave a short nod and turned on his heel, not waiting to see if Ben followed. From his perch above, Winston tracked their progress. Sai didn’t look back even once. By the time they got to the reserved box, Ben wondered if Sai actually wanted to invite him or if Winston forced his hand.

  “Ben!” Winston greeted him as if they were old friends.

  “Hi, Winston. It’s good to see you again,” Ben replied. Sai took up a spot next to the railing several steps away.

  “I should not be surprised to see you here. Was Happy Valley on your list of things to see while in Hong Kong?” Winston asked.

  “Yeah, it was. Everyone keeps talking about it all the time, so I wanted to check it out.”

  “Is there something similar in Toronto?”

  Ben stole a quick glance at Sai before answering. “There’s a racecourse, but horse racing isn’t as popular in Toronto as it is here.”

  “I see.” Winston flicked his eyes to Sai and back and then curled his lips in a grin.

  Was his interest in Sai that obvious? Ben ducked his head as his ears burned red.

  “Well, it was good to see you, Ben. I’m sure Sai could use some company.”

  Winston might as well have winked at him, for all his words implied. But when Ben was left alone to approach Sai, he hesitated.

  Sai was leaning over, forearms resting on the railing, hands cradling his plastic cup of beer, his back an elegant line that ended in a pert ass covered in suit slacks. He watched the giant screen that showed a live feed of the horses set to run the next race, along with statistics Ben had given up trying to understand.

  A shroud of mystery blanketed Sai, and it aroused Ben’s curiosity more than anything ever had in a long time. Perhaps it was because Sai was older and exuded a quiet confidence that came with experience.

  A thrill of nervous anticipation ran up Ben’s spine as he approached and mimicked Sai’s posture against the railing. Sai spared him a single glance, a subtle sigh, and a slight smile, then turned his attention back to the screen.

  “So I’ve been reading up about the history of Hong Kong.” In fact, Ben had spent all of Sunday night researching. “It’s interesting how China lost the city to the British during the opium wars, then ninety-nine years under British rule, then reverting back to China in 1997. I have some friends back home whose families moved to Canada because of that. They said they wanted to leave because of the whole communism thing.
And the protests a couple of years ago? It all sounds pretty tumultuous.”

  Sai stared at him, and the silence stretched for a couple of seconds past comfortable. Ben’s ears burned hot before Sai spoke. “You’ve been doing your homework.”

  Ben ducked his head and gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I guess.”

  Sai chuckled. “I’m impressed. That’s probably more than most other foreigners know about Hong Kong.”

  “Really?” Ben turned to face Sai, leaning his hip against the rail. “That’s surprising. If they’re living here, why wouldn’t they want to know the history of the place?”

  Sai narrowed his eyes at him, pausing almost as if he didn’t believe Ben was sincere. “I suppose that since Hong Kong isn’t their home, they don’t feel a need to know.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad. I feel like there’s a really rich history here.” And he meant it. He really did. His journey down the rabbit hole of the internet had led him through a series of websites about Hong Kong culture and the Cantonese language. He’d learned locals referred to most foreigners somewhat flippantly as gweilo, or “foreign devil,” and there was such a thing as Hong Kong-style diner cuisine, courtesy of decades as a British colony.

  Sai straightened, placing them much closer to each other than would be typical for practical strangers making small talk. And the look in his eyes kicked up the fluttering in Ben’s stomach to a whole other level. The air suddenly felt a little too thin.

  “Why are you so interested?” Sai asked.

  “I don’t know.” Ben dropped his gaze away from Sai’s intent stare. “I’m here for three months. I guess I just want to know the place.”

  “You could just as easily go to parties every night and all weekend long. Have a good time and then go home.”

  It felt like a test to Ben, like his response would determine the path of their future acquaintance. “If I wanted to party, I could have stayed home. I came here because….” He swallowed around his suddenly dry mouth. “Because I want to be here.”

  Ben snuck his tongue out to wet his lips, and Sai dropped his gaze to follow the movement. The fluttering in his stomach seemed to settle into a peaceful calm the longer he spent in Sai’s presence, and Ben hoped to God he had passed the test. He swayed a little closer and could have sworn Sai leaned in too. The moment’s momentum was sweeping them toward what Ben was sure would be a scorching-hot kiss. Sai stiffened at the last second, smiled politely, and backed away.

  Oxygen rushed back into his lungs, but Ben couldn’t help the keen sense of disappointment. He wanted to know how Sai’s lips would feel under his own. Would they be hard and demanding? Or soft and pliant? They’d probably be both. One could dream.

  Sai turned back to the giant screen showing the horses already in their starting blocks. A buzzer sounded, the gates blew open, and off they went, kicking up sand, eating up distance, and rounding the track with their colorfully attired jockeys leaning gracefully into the turn.

  As the horses ran, Ben’s attention was on Sai next to him. The way he tucked in his chin and assumed a posture of casual authority. The way he slipped his hands into his pockets, shoulders held down and back, nonchalant yet powerful. Ben shifted on his feet to hide the shudder running up his spine.

  The horses raced across the finish line to the uproar of the spectators, but Ben was deaf to all of it. “So how would you recommend I go about learning more about Hong Kong?”

  Sai turned his dark eyes to him, and Ben sucked in a breath at the heat in them; there was no mistaking the raw desire Sai cast his way.

  “We’re going to a local bar after the last race,” Sai said.

  Was it Ben’s imagination, or was Sai’s voice a couple notes lower than before?

  “Would you like to join us?”

  A sharp spike of excitement rushed through him, but Ben couched his expression and simply nodded and pretended to consider the offer. “Sure.”

  Sai’s lips curled in slow motion, ending in a knowing smile.

  They ended up at LINQ, a nondescript bar Ben had walked past before without realizing what it was. Wednesday night was apparently Guys’ Night, and the doors were thrown wide open, with customers spilling out onto the street. Inside, the small space was crammed with men, all of them laughing, drinking, touching arms and shoulders and waists.

  There was a table reserved for them near the back, and a waiter appeared as they took their seats. Local and imported beer and well-made gin and tonics flowed freely for the rest of the night, and the more they all drank, the more intense the conversation got.

  Ben found himself asking controversial questions about Hong Kong politics, and Sai, Winston, and some other friend, whom Ben had not formally met, yelled their arguments across the table.

  Gone was the quiet, reserved Sai from earlier. Instead, Sai leaned his elbow against the table and gestured with his hands while he spoke, slapping the tabletop with the flats of his fingers when making a particularly heated point or when one of his friends put up a statement he disagreed with. When not speaking, he often settled his free hand on Ben’s shoulder, its weight comforting and secure in a way Ben had never experienced before.

  They discussed the student protestors who took to the streets every couple of years in opposition of Beijing’s influence in local politics. And how the unrest was fueled by the lack of opportunities and well-paying jobs for Hong Kong’s youth. They argued over whether the local economy favored the super-rich and left large chunks of the population living well below the poverty line. Ben couldn’t follow all of it, but what he understood was fascinating.

  More intriguing, though, was the way Sai spoke with passion and fervor about each topic, presenting facts and statistics crafted in articulate arguments Ben was in no position to dispute. He might have been biased, but Ben felt pretty sure none of Sai’s friends could dispute them either.

  When the discussion died down, Ben settled back in his seat and leaned over to Sai. “You seem really passionate about social justice issues.”

  Sai appeared surprised at Ben’s observation. “I suppose you could say that.”

  “You said you work in corporate law?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “Sounds like you should be in human rights law instead.”

  Sai stilled, and Ben wondered if he’d said something wrong. Sai’s dark eyes looked even darker in the dim lighting of the bar, and intense as if he was trying to suss out something about Ben. Ben had nothing to hide, but Sai’s examination was protracted and thorough. He ducked his head, and Sai barked out a short laugh, reaching for his gin and tonic. Ben followed with a quiet chuckle.

  “Oh, Ben.” Sai dropped his empty glass back on the table, his tone laced heavily with sarcasm. “Human rights are for those with hearts that bleed. It is not for those who understand how the world works and seek to be on top.”

  Ben drew his brows together. Was he supposed to have recognized the saying? It sounded cold and extreme.

  “That is what my father said when I told him I wanted to pursue human rights law.” Sai set his glass on the table with a bang. “He decided I should pursue corporate law instead.”

  “Wait, he decided for you?” Ben wasn’t quite sure he understood that correctly.

  Sai’s smile took on a hint of sadness. “You wanted to learn more about Hong Kong and its people.” He waved his hand. “Welcome to Hong Kong.”

  A heavy hand landed on Ben’s shoulder, and he looked up, startled, to find Winston standing over them. “Whatever he’s telling you, do not believe him.” Winston spoke in words a little too slurred to take seriously. “Things are never as bad as Sai thinks they are. Come on.” He tugged at both of their arms. “We’re getting the DJ to play our music. It’s time to dance!”

  Sai tried to wave them off, but Ben liked the idea of dancing, and he especially liked the idea of dancing with Sai. They dragged Sai out of his seat and pushed their table closer to the wall to create a makeshift dance floor.

 
Sai wasn’t much of a dancer, but that was fine by Ben. He could dance enough for the both of them. He worked the small space to his advantage, brushing his arm, his back, and his hip against Sai. A blaze of heat ripped through him when Sai latched his hand on to his hip and held him in place as they swayed together.

  At some point Ben’s arms found their way around Sai’s neck, and Sai pulled them closer until they bumped chests. Ben was taller than Sai by a couple of inches, had a bigger frame, and certainly weighed more. But Ben felt deliciously small when he looked into Sai’s eyes and saw something strong and in control. He trembled under the intensity of Sai’s gaze, and he loved the feeling.

  Last call was announced over the music, and the interruption sent a spike of panic through Ben, jolting him out of his happy, lusty daze. He wasn’t ready to let Sai go, but Sai was already pulling away.

  Ben pulled him back and said the first thing that came to mind: “My friends and I are going on a junk boat this Saturday. Come with us.”

  Sai speared him with a look that said he was crazy. Maybe he was crazy, crazy to think this intelligent, knowledgeable, and sophisticated man would want to spend any time with a nobody like him. But he had to try. He held his breath and waited for the answer.

  It came a couple of moments late. But then Sai’s look softened, and his lips curled in an amused grin. “Okay. I’ll come.”

  Chapter Three

  Saturday, September 9

  WHAT THE hell was he thinking? Sai stood on the dock, staring at the junk boat and wondering if he should just bail. He must have been much too drunk that night at the bar with Ben asking all those questions about Hong Kong.

  Sai remembered his heated diatribes as Ben had looked on with those adoring blue eyes and blond lashes. They were just a shade darker than the shockingly light hair on his head, had been damp with the sweat of Hong Kong’s tropical climate and the number of bodies squeezed into the small bar. And how could he forget the feel of Ben’s body as they’d held each other, solid and soft at the same time, more than enough man to fill Sai’s arms?