Queen of Love

“I asked if you’re going to bring me a repeat customer in Genevieve Liu!” His drunken slurring made Genevieve’s name sound more like jinja-bebe than anything else. “I’m counting on you! I’ll give you a bonus if she refers our company to one of her friends! That goes for you too, Ishida-san! I know you two were the team that brought her in!”

Mr. Ishida clapped a hand against Aya’s shoulder. “It was mostly our Sugiya-san.”

Two men sitting across the table from them knelt toward one another and snickered. Aya shot them a cursed look until they realized she had heard them gossiping about why Ms. Liu, the woman who had bought a lesbian bar, was so enamored with the only female on their team. Pretty much everyone here knows I’m gay. Except it wasn’t kosher to talk about it. Mr. Ishida and the others had established a firm culture of what happens at home stays there. As long as Aya didn’t botch her work because she was too busy being gay all over the place, Takatani and his immediate subordinates wouldn’t care, either. We’ve entered the age of capitalism trumping identity politics. As long as Aya kept making them money… who cared if she was a dyke?

Of course, that went both ways. In return, Aya demanded a certain level of respect. Something the men across the table were not offering her.

“Hey!” Takatani snapped his fingers at them. “What’s this? Sugiya-san is your senior! She’s been here longer than you, and makes this company more than you two put together! Shut up!”

When the waitress brought the next round of beer, Aya got up to help her and Kenji pour. Not because she yearned to bring back her deferential days, but because she wanted to ensure the president saw how grateful she was he put swift ends to rumors and gossip.

If Genevieve saw me now… Had Genevieve ever poured a drink for a male senior and softly spoken to him, bowing her head several times to keep herself as far beneath him as possible? Probably not. Then again, Aya wasn’t bothered by it. Maybe in another life. One in which she had little control over who she was outside of work.

In her personal life, though… with Genevieve…

There was plenty of potential there. Already, Aya’s imagination was alight with what she would ask Genevieve to do when she returned to her apartment in Meguro and had some time to decompress from this farce of a company meeting.

I so look forward to it. She looked more forward to what might await her phone in the morning. The more pictures and videos she collected of the Singaporean heiress, the more inclined she was to put them to good use.

No, not like that…

Something else. Something she hoped Genevieve would enjoy as much. She seemed the type.

La Costa Café always knew how to deliver exactly what Genevieve Liu desired on any given day. On that otherwise quiet Sunday, it was peace. And a tropical backdrop, complete with a rococo fountain springing forth from the palm fronds and misting the natural scent of jasmine emanating from the surrounding bushes.

The VIP area of La Costa was usually Genevieve’s to have even on the weekends. Few could afford the privileges of one of Singapore’s trendiest spaces. It doesn’t stop at the fountain. It was the glass atrium that filtered the UV light from the powerful sun and the decadent air conditioning keeping her cool in her white button-down dress. Her hibiscus iced tea and a slice of strawberry cheesecake cost more than most café offerings, but Genevieve picked her hangout spots for their amenities, not their savings.

Her price-conscious peers didn’t always agree. Hence why she often had the courtyard to herself.

”…Perhaps it isn’t your mother keeping us apart,” read the romance novel paperback currently flopping in Genevieve’s hands as she lay across a chaise lounge pushed up against the fountain. The light spray raining upon her body – and book – smelled of chlorine and jasmine. Occasionally, she sipped from her iced tea and ate a small piece of her cheesecake. The goal was to keep it going so she wouldn’t have to order more. Her waistline appreciated it. “Perhaps it’s you, Charles, who isn’t pleased with my background. You have a deep-seated hatred for the British, admit it.”

The strawberry in the cheesecake was always fresh. Genevieve always gave La Costa another star for that.

“I don’t care if you’re from Manchester or Shanghai, Mei-ling,” Genevieve continued to read, “I love you. Your background has nothing to do with it!”

Genevieve sighed. This was how these stories always went, regardless of the genders involved. When Genevieve raided her home library, however, she went straight for this twenty-year-old epic about Charles and Mei-ling, an interracial couple who wanted to be together, but their cultures threatened to keep them apart. Set in 1998, after Britain handed Hong Kong back to China, Mei-ling was a budding ad executive who wanted to have her cake and eat it, too. Charles was a banker who was stationed in Hong Kong to help the transition from one ruling state to another. Politics aside, it’s not a bad book, for being so… straight. Genevieve didn’t usually care. After all, she adored romance novels more than any other genre. The will-they, won’t they. The push and pull. The temptation, followed by giving in and attempting to make it work. Whether it was a jilted ex or the contemporary times threatening to keep the star couple apart, Genevieve sighed at their love, swooned at their declarations, and bit her nail every time they broke up yet again. This one, though? It hit too close to home.

“Tell your mother to fuck off and get on with it already!” Genevieve hissed as she turned a page. Her foot twirled in the air as she propped her ankle against her opposite knee. Good thing she was facing the wall and wore safety shorts beneath her dress – because any Tom, Dick, or Mary could peer up her skirt at this very moment. Like the waitress who stopped by to politely ask if she wanted anything else.

Or the nosy thorn in Genevieve’s Singaporean side.

“Aiya, if it isn’t Genevieve! It’s been way too long lah!”

Genevieve slowly lowered her paperback to her chest, careful to cover the title with the palm of her hand. “Hello, Wendy.”

She was pretty sure it was Wendy Ahn, come to wreck her respite, anyway. Sometimes it’s hard to tell, especially in certain lights. Wendy was no stranger to the myriad of surgeons across Southeast Asia and South Korea. Right now, it looked like she had acquired a new nose since Genevieve last saw her. Or maybe she had her boobs touched up. God, it was hard to tell sometimes. Wendy also loved her breast-boosting bras and butt fillers. At least her hair was mostly the same!

Wendy helped herself to the small bistro table near Genevieve’s chaise lounge. As the waitress returned to kneel by Wendy’s table and take her order for a frozen white mocha and squid chips, Genevieve had to admit… squid chips sounded good. Too bad she would never admit Wendy put the idea in her head. “How are you, dear Wendy?” Genevieve politely asked before sitting up and straightening out her dress.

“Oh, life couldn’t be better. Just got back from meeting some new ang moh who you should absolutely meet. There was this one Canadian,” she paused to suck in a giant breath, “who had the loveliest wife you have ever met. I mean, my girlfriend is the hottest star in the Sinosphere, but this gal had a wife you could steal in one night. You know what I mean.”

Genevieve had no idea who Wendy was talking about. As usual. Wendy went out of her way to meet anyone who might elevate her social status or amused her for more than half a second. Genevieve was a bit more discerning. Partly because of her background. Wendy has money. Lots of it. Except her family is new money, and as my mother used to say… New Money Means New Habits. A subtle way to refer to the nouveau riche who didn’t know their manners from their asses. My mother hated new money people. For the longest time, the Lius had refused to do business with the Mainlanders who had their up-and-comings in the ’80s and beyond. Then they died, and it didn’t matter anymore.

“It’s always nice to stay busy.”

“Yes, indeed.” A diabolical smile almost cracked Wendy’s face in two. “I see you’ve been staying busy as well, Genevieve.”

“What do you mean by that? Of course, I’m always busy. I’m currently expanding some of my work.”