Claimed Darker by Em Brown
Chapter 11
DARREN
Past
“You don’t have to drive me back. I can take BART, you know,” Bridget says the following morning as she sits at my dining table, wrapped in my bathrobe.
“You’d rather take public transportation?” I ask as I set down two cups of coffee.
“No, but I figured you have stuff to do.”
“I don’t have anything on my schedule except a lunch meeting.”
After getting the club established, and with Cheryl managing the day-to-day, there’s not much I have to do. I think about Lee Hao Young’s offer for me to take over the US counterfeiting division for the Jing San. It would definitely be challenging. Stimulating. Something that would make my father proud.
“Either way, I’m a big girl,” Bridget says. “I can find my way back to Berkeley.”
If it was just about sex with Bridget, I’d let her take public transportation. Or I’d have one of my employees give her a lift. But I want to drive her back. I want to prolong our time together. Stuff like that, and the fact that we made breakfast together this morning, feels like things one does in a relationship.
In Phuket, my mother warned me about falling in love. I think she likes Bridget, she just doesn’t think Bridget is right for me. I agree with my mom. Bridget’s too opinionated, too political, too goody-goody for me.
But her pussy’s sweet. And she was fucking amazing last night.
“What are you doing tonight?” I ask her.
“Catch-up on what I missed while in Thailand,” she replies as she butters her toast.
“What about tomorrow?”
“Because I got Shawn to take my shift while I was gone, I told him I’d take his tomorrow.”
“So you’ll come over after that.”
“I can…”
I raise my brows.
She narrows her eyes. “You make these imperial assumptions about what I’ll do all the time.”
I casually tear my croissant in half. “They’re not assumptions. They’re commands.”
She rolls her eyes. “Even worse!”
“It makes life easier if you just do what I say. Besides, I don’t tell you to do anything you don’t actually want to do.”
She shakes her head. “That’s not true.”
She looks cute when she’s rattled.
“Maybe not in the moment,” I acknowledge. “But you put up with it for the reward.”
“What reward?” she asks, though she knows the answer.
“Me.”
She tosses her bread crust at me.
“That’s going to earn you a good punishment,” I tell her, picking the crust off my lap.
“That’s not the way to incentivize me to come over,” she replies.
“Sure it is. Because if you take your punishment like a good girl, you get rewarded. And I know you like your rewards.”
She blushes and goes back to having her breakfast. But I don’t feel like eating anymore. Just the thought of what punishment I would serve has me aroused.
We end up making out on the floor before we finish breakfast. I drop her back at her apartment before returning to The Lotus for my lunch meeting with Lee Hao Young.
“How was Southern California?” I ask the older man as he takes a seat across from me at a table.
Hao Young, originally from the southernmost province in China, is half a foot shorter than me and naturally more tan. His thin gray hair has receded well past the top of his head. If it weren’t for the dim lighting in the club, his crown would probably shine.
“Good. Warmer,” he replies.
Mimi, one of the young, pretty servers, comes over and pours oolong tea for us.
“Have you given thought to the opportunity I presented?” he asks.
“I’m honored to be considered,” I reply, “but I’m not ready to accept.”
In typical old-school Chinese fashion, Hao Young shows no emotion. Mimi returns with a basket of steamed xiao long bao.
“Because of your mother?” he asks as he uses his chopsticks and picks up a dumpling.
I nod, though it’s Bridget who pops up in my mind.
Hao Young dips his dumpling into a small dish of soy sauce with vinegar and sliced ginger. “She does not want to lose a son after losing her husband.”
“Sure.”
“What happened to your father was unusual. His death had nothing to do with the triad. That crazy inmate who killed him was not hired by us. We respected him too much. We honored him.”
“But his involvement with the triad was what put him in prison.”
“Are you afraid to go to prison?”
“No,” I reply, still thinking about Bridget.
“Do you know the number of triad members who have gone to jail?”
I shake my head.
“Less than five percent. The odds of going to prison are low. Your mother should not worry.”
“Try convincing her of that.”
“If your mother was not opposed, would you accept?”
Bridget is still in my mind, but this isn’t about her. Even if it was, however, I’m not going to tell Hao Young about her.
“Sure,” I answer.
Mimi returns with more dishes: shrimp dumplings, fried taro cakes, and Peking duck.
“And why would you accept?”
“Because it sounds interesting. More interesting than running this club. And it’s what my father would have wanted me to do.”
“Does his legacy matter to you?”
“Yes.”
He nods his approval. “You are a good son, Darren. You have respected your mother’s wishes for many years now. Perhaps it is time you respect you father’s wishes. He could have reduced his sentence by implicating other members, but the Jing San was his family. You, his son, are part of the family. You cannot live the rest of your life for your mother. You have to live for yourself.”
For the umpteenth time, Bridget tugs on my mind.
“A bright young man like yourself needs more than a club to fulfill you.”
“But will running the counterfeiting division be that much more fulfilling?”
“Run it well, and the opportunities for advancement are plentiful.”
“I’m sure there are others in the triad equally capable of taking on the counterfeiting division.”
“This is a position we are offering to you because we feel we owe your father. And because many speak well of you. That you have your father’s fortitude, his intelligence. You just need some of his ambition, too.”
“Maybe I’ll be ready to accept later.”
“What if we cannot wait?”
“Then you’ll have to find someone else.”
Hao Young chews his food slowly, then says. “I think we can wait a few months. We may want to phase out of some of our older activities, and our new endeavors can wait until you are ready.”
“I appreciate it.”
The rest of the time is spent on less significant topics, and I don’t think about Bridget again for the rest of lunch.
* * *
“How was your flight?”I ask the following evening as JD takes a seat across from where I sit on a sofa on the second-floor balcony of The Lotus.
“I hate flying,” he answers. “Got Amy into the Mile High Club, though.”
“I figured you guys would have done that on the flight over.”
“Amy got air sick, remember?”
“So how’d it happen this time?”
“I had her smoke some weed. Speaking of weed, you got any?”
“Just received a new product of pre-rolls in cigar tubes. I know you like to roll your own, but these supposedly contain quality cannabis.”
“I guess I’ll give it a try.”
I motion to a server standing by and instruct her to bring the humidor.
“Any pussy joining us tonight?” JD asks.
“Amy’s not coming over?”
“Jet lag. Plus, I could use a break from her. I mean, I spent over a week with her. Could have had me some Ivy League pussy if I’d gone stag, like you were going to do. I still can’t believe you brought Ugly Sweater Lady with you. Though it was fun watching her beat-down of Mok with her shoe. I wish I had caught it on camera.”
The memory both amuses and angers me. I still wish I had kicked the shit out of Mok. I would have gladly spent the night in jail for that. Instead, all I got in was a broken nose for what he did to Bridget.
“What did your dad think of Amy?” I inquire.
JD shrugs. “I’m sure he thought she was cute, but he doesn’t keep tabs on who I’m pounding. He almost mistook her for Ava.”
“Who was Ava?”
“That Filipina chick from Indiana. She wanted to be an actress.”
The name still doesn’t ring a bell. I can’t keep track of the different women JD has slept with.
“What did your mom think about Bridget?” JD asks. “Good thing you had Cheryl dress her up so she at least looked presentable.”
“My mom liked her better than she liked Kimberly.”
“Yeah? Your mom’s not easy to please. If my son brought home pussy like Kimberly, I’d be happy for him.”
“My mom didn’t like it when I brought you over.”
JD shakes his head. “As a kid, I was scared to come over to your house, man. Your mom gave me these looks like she thought I was plotting to kill you.”
“You tried so fucking hard to impress her,” I recall, “always saying ‘yes, Auntie Lee,’ ‘thank you, Auntie Lee.’ You even offered to bus your own dinner plates.”
“Shit, I almost wet my pants when I dropped and broke one of them, too!”
One of the servers returns with the humidor. I wait until the marijuana has relaxed JD before bringing up Manny.
“You know about Manny’s projects with the PSB,” I begin.
JD rests his head against the back of his sofa. “What about it?”
“He says it’s going well but there’s not enough women to meet demand. Hao Young told him you might be able to help him out, maybe even let him help you out with your new stuff.”
“No fucking way. Anybody but Manny Wu.”
“Why not Manny?”
“He’s a fat, dumb wannabe.”
“He’s eager. He’d do whatever you asked him to do.”
“Don’t care. I’ve got challenges enough without having to drag along his loser ass.”
“What about the women to work his massage parlors? You think you could point him in the right direction?”
JD gives me a glazed look. “Why the fuck should I help Manny? What has he ever done for me?”
“Come on. Just throw him a bone.”
“Ugh. I give him one thing, he’s gonna come back for more.”
I decide to table the topic. Maybe JD will be in a more receptive mood after he’s been able to bone someone.
A prospect comes up the stairs, but it turns out to be Kimberly Park. She wears a tight halter that’s more a second skin than a dress. As with most her outfits, it’s cut low to show off the cleavage she’s so proud of.
“How was the wedding?” she asks.
“Seen one wedding, you seen them all,” JD answers. “Just vary the setting, vows and shit like flowers. You want a hit?”
“Where’s Eric?” I ask.
Sitting down next to JD, Kimberly takes the cigar from him. “In Russia. Talking to investors or something like that.”
“You didn’t go with him?” JD asks.
She makes a face. “Why would I want to go to Russia? I’m a tropical destination girl.”
“You think Russian investors will go over well with our crowd?” I ask JD.
“I don’t give a fuck about Russians.”
“They back a lot of Drumm projects.”
“So? When did you care about international politics?”
“I don’t. Something just doesn’t smell right about Drumm and his projects.”
“Look, Drumm projects are almost always shitty. There. I’ve said it. Expect to lose money. This isn’t an investment for a financial return. It’s a quid pro quo. I bet that’s why the Russians are backing them. They know Drumm knows how the game is played. I’ve already made my commitment to Eric. I think you should, too.”
“Darren’s too busy getting his head turned by the dorky sweater girl,” Kimberly replies, passing the weed back to JD. She turns to me. “I can’t believe you took that thing with you to Thailand.” She tries but fails to keep the jealousy out of her tone. “You suddenly into charity?” she asks.
“You’re so cute when you think you’re clever,” I tell her.
She scowls at me. “Did she actually meet your family or did you hide her in the closet next to that ugly-ass sweater of hers?”
JD chuckles.
“I had to dress her up,” I admitted. “Bought her some new clothes, new shoes, some jewelry.”
I didn’t need to add the last sentence because Kimberly already looks livid.
“Because she has zero sense of fashion,” she says.
“So why are you jealous?”
“Ha! Of that thing? I’m not jealous. I’m looking out for you, honey.”
“Well, we can’t all date Eric Drumm.”
“Now who’s sounding jealous?”
I don’t bother telling her that I’m more jealous of a pot-bellied pig than I am of Drumm. Not worth wasting my breath.
“Where you going?” JD asks when I get up.
“Gonna pick up Bridge.”
JD cocks his head to one side. “You two in a real relationship or something?”
“Or something,” I reply, not wanting to discuss it.
Back in Phuket, my mother warned me about falling in love with someone like Bridget. She wants me to walk the straight and narrow, so one would think she’d be happy that I’m with someone so law-abiding she won’t even consume alcohol until she’s twenty-one. My mom thinks I should go for a simpler woman, and she’s probably right on that. But my body wants what it wants.
I don’t know that I’m in love with Bridget, though. There was a moment, the day after the fight with Mok, that I thought I might be. But that burst of emotion has settled down since we got back.
For the better.
