The Color of Jadeite. Eric D. Goodman

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      “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

      “Not anything I want to hear.” Mackenzie frowned. “Are you going to be nice or are you going to be gone?”

      My answer came too late. Salvador had already taken a seat at the table next to Harriet and, by the time Mackenzie dragged me over, Harriet and Salvador were already involved in a discussion about how yoga—Harriet’s specialty—is better than Valium at managing strong emotions.

      “I totally agree,” I said, taking a seat and deciding to be nice. I was always giving Mackenzie a hard time for not having a personal life—just her work and her dog—so was it really any of my business who she went out with?

      I knew what I wanted, but I perused the menu sullenly while the other three laughed and discussed the finer points of yoga. I closed the menu and dropped it on the table, very sorry to be sitting next to Harriet and across from Salvador, wishing I was in the restaurant by myself, as I’d intended. The only thing worse than dining with an acquaintance when you want to be alone is dining with three of them.

      Mackenzie and Harriet were just finishing up their duck and shrimp platters as Salvador and I ordered.

      “What you getting?” Salvador asked.

      “Bowl of noodles,” I said. “Best in Boston.”

      “No meat?”

      “Of course not. Meat’s bad for you. And worse for the animal.”

      “It’s good for me!” Salvador patted his belly. “I’m feeling ducky tonight.”

      “To each his own.”

      “Yup.” Salvador isn’t the best conversationalist, which made him pretty great company in my book since I wasn’t looking for small talk. I tried not to participate in the little lover’s quarrel next to us, but couldn’t quite block it out.

      “Why can’t you stay put for just a few months, Harriet? It’s like you can’t let a blade of grass grow under your feet.” No one should get on Mackenzie’s bad side.

      Harriet knew how to put herself down in a way that lifted herself up. “Can I help it if business is good? It’s not my fault I’m in demand. I’ve got a few new franchise openings to oversee, then I’ll station myself here in Boston for a while and trust my franchisees to take care of their locations.”

      “I just miss you when you’re gone. And lately that seems to be a lot of the time.”

      “Come with me, have a vacation,” Harriet said—but I could tell in her voice that she only offered because she knew Mackenzie wouldn’t take her up on it.

      “I’ve got a career. I can’t just pick up and go at any time.”

      “Going international with my yoga studios is taking a little more time than I’d anticipated, yes. But I promise to make it up to you when I get back, my little Mac.”

      I wanted to gag and I didn’t even have my food yet. Salvador read the Chinese Zodiac on his paper placemat as though coming to a more enlightened understanding of himself. Of all the noodle joints in all the towns in all the world, I had to walk into theirs. I just wanted to be alone tonight.

      Then, I looked up and everything changed.

      The beauty stood at the bottom of the stairs, just where I’d been moments ago: the most elegant lady in the world. She spoke with a waitress, but she was looking straight at me. When I made eye contact, she flashed me a subtle smile that could have melted butter, then looked back at the waitress. I blinked, not sure whether my vision was playing tricks on me in the dim light.

      Taller than the average Asian, she filled out her red dress in all the right places despite her slender waist, thin arms, and longer-than-life legs. She elegantly concealed her second glance in my direction by gracefully brushing a few stray strands of her silky black hair from her face—the majority of it anchored on the top of her head with a decorative comb, exposing her long neck, delicate chin, high cheek bones, full red lips, and distinctive green eyes. The comb in her hair appeared to be carved out of bone or ivory, and each of her hands included a sparkling ring on one finger—emerald on one, ruby on the other. But neither was on her ring finger, thank God, meaning that she might be open to the suggestion throbbing in my chest. Her red dress was topped off with an orange Mandarin collar and bottomed out with slits that—when she stepped forward—revealed even more of those longer-than-should-be-legal legs. I normally don’t allow myself to go gaga over a girl, but I felt my heart fluttering and everything surrounding—especially my own company—blurred into a peripheral mist. There was something about her that conjured up feelings I’d not encountered in decades, since my own youth. The woman looked as intelligent as she was beautiful, speaking to the waitress with a gentle but definite authority, although she couldn’t have been far out of her twenties.

      I hadn’t looked at a girl that young in that way since I was that age. So what was it about this girl that made me feel this way again?

      To be honest, the why didn’t concern me. Young or old, I needed to meet her. Dizziness overtook me as I stood.

      “Where are you going?” Mackenzie asked.

      “Who is that?” I mumbled. I had to hold onto the table to support myself as I stood, blood rushing to my head for a moment.

      “Who is who?” Salvador asked.

      “Her!” I looked up and found that the waitress was alone.

      “She’s kind of pretty,” Salvador said, eyeing the waitress.

      “No, not her,” I insisted.

      “You’re delirious,” Mackenzie said. “And I’ve got to go. I have an appointment tomorrow. Coming, Harriet?”

      “Absolutely,” Harriet said, throwing some money on the table.

      “It was a pleasure,” Mackenzie said to Salvador. “And Clive,” she leaned over to talk into my ear, “get a grip. Ever since we cracked that dogfighting ring in Isla Mujeres, you’ve been acting weird.”

      I ignored her and began scoping out the room. Where did she go?

      “Maybe you should take some time off,” Harriet called after me. “Go to a yoga retreat, recharge your batteries.”

      I didn’t say goodbye or pay any attention to Mackenzie or Harriet leaving because I was too focused on finding her. I looked at every table in the room, passed through a hanging-bead threshold into a back dining room, but no sign of the woman in red. I came back out into the main dining room where Salvador was already slurping noodles and pulling duck off the bone. “Food’s here,” he said, but I didn’t respond.

      I went to the waitress and asked where the woman in red went, but she didn’t seem to understand me, pointing to my untouched noodles. “Red sauce?” she offered.

      I walked upstairs to the front of the restaurant, where the noodle man massaged dough in the window. I went back down to the far end of the main dining room and passed into the kitchen. The staff seemed startled when I walked through, as though I were an unannounced health inspector. No sign of her here. I noticed the back door was ajar, and I went through it. СКАЧАТЬ