“Damn. What would you like to know?”

“You are single, I assume, or you would not be here.”

“I am very single.”

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”

“I’ve been in a seriously deranged relationship for years with someone who left me behind for higher learning in the Hollywood Hills.”

She clucked her tongue. “You poor thing. Maybe you should have given her a reason to stay instead of putting her up on a pedestal where she couldn’t be reached.”

“It’s very complicated. Or, I thought it was. She has these two brothers, you see. And one of them adopted me when I was younger, and if he knew I so much as touched her, like this—” He ran a finger along the side of her hand. Once, twice. He stroked over her delicate wristbone and traced along the inside of her arm, back and forth, watching goose bumps spread across her skin. “He might smash my head into a sticky pulp. Or he might do something else, like send me away from the house in which I now live. I would lose my job and my family.”

“He would not,” Astrid whispered. “If he did, I would—I mean, I’m sure this girl you speak of would pack her bags and never speak to that brother again.”

“It’s easy to say that now, but what would she do for money? Where would she live?”

“With you, of course.”

With him—him! He couldn’t believe they were talking about this, no matter how remotely. It was like everything that hadn’t been spoken over the last few years was suddenly out in the open. Or was it? He couldn’t tell. All he knew was that his pulse was pounding in his temples and his mouth was dry.

He licked his lips. “What would I do for money? And I don’t think she’d want to live in my old apartment in Chinatown. This girl likes the finer things in life.”

“She’s not the only one,” she said, slanting him a critical look. “And the two of you could temporarily live with her nicer brother on Telegraph Hill.”

“You’re assuming he wouldn’t stand behind his older brother’s wishes. And even if he took them in, that might risk dividing the entire family, and this family has already been through a lot of tragedy. I am certainly not worth the injury this could cause.”

“You should let her be the judge of worth,” Astrid said, brow lowering.

“It’s not the only complication, I’m afraid.” He continued stroking her arm; touching her was like the patter of rain above them, seductive and relaxing. As long as he could continue touching her, their Pretend Conversation would continue. “Even if the family could be mended, there are other things dividing them. She is high class, and I am low. She is college educated, and my uncle forced me to drop out of school when I was thirteen so that I could earn him money by robbing people—”

“Lazy bastard.”

“—but most of all, she is a privileged white woman. I am Chinese.”

She leaned closer. “I’ve heard from a reliable source that the xenophobes plaguing our society have got it all wrong—that the Chinese are beautiful, resilient people with a rich cultural history that spans thousands of years. And that they came here to Gum Shan—”

“Gam Saan,” he said, correcting her pronunciation as he leaned closer.

“Gold Mountain, then. The reason they came to California was the same reason my parents came here from Sweden. Because life was hard at home, and though they loved their land, they came here to seek their fortune. How were they supposed to know that a bunch of idiots with power were already out here, and that they’d be jealous of their hard work and make life miserable for them?”

Bo chuckled. “Your reliable source seems to have strong opinions about history.”

“He’s smarter than every single one of my professors.” She tucked a lock of misbehaving blond hair behind one ear at the same moment her knee moved and touched his. “He knows a hundred Chinese fables. Do you know any, perhaps?”

“I know a few.”

“Tell me one about a cunning fox spirit. Those are my favorite. I like that all the female fox spirits are beautiful seductresses and make men do stupid things.”

“You just described my life.”

She laughed.

“Let me think of one I haven’t told you.” He paused to think and said, “I know one that doesn’t have a fox spirit outsmarting anyone to make them do stupid things, but she’s still quite extraordinary,” he assured her. “So extraordinary, that it’s believed she must be descended from the old foxes.”

“Tell me about her.”

With his knee touching hers, he leaned closer and told the story.

“A young scholar in a small village pined away for his childhood sweetheart for many years, but he didn’t dare touch her because her family was wealthy and respected, and his family was poor. When she was finally old enough for them to be together, he spent his savings to buy fine clothes and a horse and went to her family home to ask for her hand in marriage. But when her father answered the door, a loud celebration was going on behind him. The scholar asked what they were celebrating, and the father told him that another man from a respected family had proposed to his daughter and they were to be married.”

“That’s awful,” Astrid murmured. Her hand dropped between them and settled on the stone wall.

His hand followed hers. He continued.