Chapter 2

To get to the Beijing Nursing Hospital where I work, I only had to take one train and one bus. It was surrounded on one side by a grove of covered trees and a million home-brewed coffee shops, and on the other side by Fortune 500 companies.

Despite Xiaoyan's ranting, I was able to catch the early bus, allowing me to visit one of my favorite shops before my shift began at ten o'clock.

A combination of designer dogs and tied bicycles dotted the sidewalk. As I skirted around something that I'm sure would have been named a 'labra-doodle-retriever-pug,' I smiled to myself. One of the reasons I like working in Beijing was because of this. A safe haven where the two sides may meet for a simple cup of coffee. There was no need for class conflict when everyone just wanted to get some caffeine, right? Both the poodles and the Schwinns had adequate room on the sidewalks.

I strolled right into a battle with this abnormally upbeat attitude.

“I don’t care what kind of hurry you’re in, just move the damn car!”

I stiffened in my seat and stared in disbelief at the two men who stood in front of me. One of them had to be a maintenance worker of some sort. He was dressed in a plain slate-colored uniform with a smudged name tag and excessive facial hair. He was still fiddling with his keys, and based on the way he was double-parked near a town vehicle, I assumed he had just abandoned his truck and dashed out into the sidewalk.

The man opposite from him, on the other hand, was a different story.

Everything about him was razor-sharp and razor-sharp. Everything about him was stiff, from his suit to his hair to the way he clenched the muscles in his angular jaw. His hands were empty, and despite the fact that the maintenance worker appeared to have easily resigned from a career in the UFC, his fingers trembled as if he was itching for a battle. On each hand, there are two silver rings. And, believe it or not, a set of fucking diamond-studded cufflinks.

I'm sure he hailed from an affluent family, lived in a spacious mansion, and even had hired help.

I assumed the town car belonged to him.

“Look.”

I could have sworn I saw the man’s eye twitch beneath his heavily tinted sunglasses.

“I’m not trying to make waves, but I was already parked by the time you pulled up behind me. It’s not your spot!”

“Already parked?” A pair of work gloves was hurled to the ground. “Already parked, my ***! You swerved up out of nowhere and took my spot!”

Mr. Ralph Lauren just calmly smiled. “You can have the spot in five minutes. I’m just running in for a quick coffee.”

“Think I’m going to let you out, you stuck-up shallow prick?” he shouted. “I’ll block your car in. I’ll make you late for work. What are you going to do? Call a tow truck? I’ll **** you up, asshole!”

An ongoing dispute over a parking space? Seriously? I needed to step in. A fight like this could go from 0-100, real quick. The maintenance guy was on the verge of total system failure. As a health-care professional, I was worried the throbbing vein in the side of his neck might actually explode. Either that or he might just run up and take a bite out of rich boy’s face.

Both interesting possibilities, from a “my first fight” perspective. But both definitely implied me being late for work. The boring pacifist in me kicked into gear, and before they could launch into some serious sixth-grade name calling, I stepped in between.

“Hey, hey there! Calm down!”

Maybe it was because of how ridiculously disappointing my little bird-like frame looked, bringing up two twiggy arms to either of their chests, but both men took a large step back after one look at me. A rush of pleasure rushed through my veins, and it was all I could do not to smile. Maybe it was because of how fucking badass I was!

Zhefan, keep your cool. Here's where you're supposed to come across as cool and heroic.

With the seriousness of a seasoned investigator, I removed my sunglasses. “What appears to be the issue here?”

The wealthy man began to talk, but I purposely switched my attention to his opponent. I noticed that the maintenance man, Xiaogui, had turned the color of boiling shrimp on his tag.

“The problem is, this guy cut me off with his damn town car!” Xiaogui said.

“Not me.” The man held up his hands and blew out a long breath. “My driver. Listen, I would love to chat about this more, but I’m late for a very important meeting.”

“Your driver?” Xiaogui took another threatening step forward. “I swear, you rich son of a bitch. I have half a mind to—”

“Listen,” I cut him off soothingly. A bit of a crowd had begun to gather and I was suddenly worried that when the fun was over, they might start pouring into my coffee shop and I would never get to work on time.

Another maintenance worker stepped next to his buddy. “Nothing says, ‘I’m a prick’ like a town car and a sixty-dollar haircut.”

There was a muffled reaction next to me, but I ignored it.

“I hear you,” I said, trying to calm both of them before a riot broke out. “But let me tell you what, why don’t we get inside and I’ll buy Xiaogui an espresso just for keeping the peace?”

I threw in a wink for good measure and watched as Xiaogui's coloration returned to normal.

“Make it a double,” he muttered, but he marched obediently inside.

I defused a bomb! He shoots, He scores! First no dark circles, and now this? I’m on a roll today!

The crowd around me cheered. I took a small bow, and a man let out a long whistle. Was this what fame felt like?

“Way to go!” a woman shouted.

“That was so sweet of you!”

“Paying it forward,” another man said.

“You rock!” somebody shouted.

Maybe Xiaogui should find a proper parking spot. He wasn’t going to stay double-parked, was he? Oh, well. At least I stopped the fight. Practically glowing with my accomplishment, I started to follow Xiaogui when a cool voice suddenly made me turn.

“Don’t I get an espresso?”

My automatic rebuke was delayed for a second or two as I lost myself in the rich man's dark eyes.

Oh, my goodness. The guy was extremely stunning. I was taken aback by how hot he was, and I couldn't say anything.

“Please accept my apologies.” I instantly shook my head and resumed my focus to the man.

“What?”

See, I'd been thinking about seas.

He cocked his head to the side, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Didn't I say I'd get an espresso?”

I returned my gaze to his driver, who had finally exited the vehicle and was staring at him with tense anticipation. Cufflinks, again! Even the assistance made me want to rip out my hair.

After the dark-eyes magic had worn off, I put on my real spectacles. “You're running late for a crucial meeting. “You stated as much.” I grinned as my gaze returned to his driver. “After all, you can clearly afford it.”

He smiled back at me as I turned to go inside the shop. As a champion for the common man, the crowd parted in solidarity appreciation and it was only a few moments before I made it up to the counter.

My favorite barista, Chengguang, was already flying around, setting a timer here, sprinkling cinnamon there, but he looked up and smiled when he saw me.

“Morning, Zhefan, the usual?”

I sank my elbows down onto the counter, gazing bleakly at the latest pop star’s new Thanksgiving album.

“Yep. Oh, and let me get that guy Xiaogui too.” I pointed to the maintenance worker and he smiled.

“You got it.”

I pulled out a ten and waited as he bustled around. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the rich man walk into the café and take his place at the back of the line. A faint blush rose up in my cheeks and I kept my eyes front. These cinematic takedowns were always best when you could make a clean getaway afterward. And the elevator music wasn’t helping.

“You and Xiaoyan miss another casting?” Chengguang asked when he returned, carrying two steaming drinks. “You look tired.”

I handed him my cash. “I just haven’t been

sleeping that well.”

He frowned as he handed me back my change. “The dragon dream again?”

“Yes!” I leaned over the counter excitedly, eager to commiserate. “I don’t know what’s going on, but every time it gets close to me, it suddenly—”

“Hey! You in the scrubs!” An impatient voice called out from the line. “Some of us have to get to work.”

I threw back a glare in their general direction. Just like that, my adoring crowd had turned on a dime. Fame was a fickle friend.

“I’ll tell you later,” I said with exaggerated importance to Chengguang, “I have to get to work.”

I scooped up my mocha-chino with all the dignity I could muster and walked out of the café with my head held high. I could feel the rich guy staring at me as I swept past him out the door, but I kept my eyes on the sidewalk. With my luck, I’d probably trip or something right as I tried to deliver a last one-liner to seal the deal.

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