From Jenny to Mei Ch. 23

"No... I hate doing that. I'll be fine. Philip?"

"Yes, Karla?"

"He said he wanted to meet with you again."

"Ok. I kinda expected that."

"Would tonight after work be ok?"

"Does he want money?"

Karla was a bit shocked at his question; shocked and offended. "He's not that kind of guy."

"Sorry," he said, realizing from Karla's tone that he was being a dick. "It was an asshole question. I didn't mean to ..."

"It's ok."

"I've been preoccupied."

"Mei said it would be your first time with two girls. How was it?" She sounded more intrigued and confidential than conversational.

"Um," he looked at Ai in a kind of, 'What am I supposed to say?' look.

"He didn't pass out," Ai said, "but we'll get him next time for sure."

"Ah," Karla sighed, "you two have all the fun."

Philip, wanting to change the subject, said, "Text me his number and I'll send him an address. I'll meet him downtown at six."

"Ok. Gotta go," she said and hung up.

"What do you think he wants to say to you?" Ai asked.

"I think he wants to know what kind of man I am."

"Oh well then that won't be a problem."

"Guys don't like the same kind of guy girls like, Ai."

She waited, knowing he would elaborate.

"Guys that women find attractive are competition, unless they've got natural charisma, or are funny, or the gregarious type. I'm not either of those."

"But you have such confidence."

"Guys hate that. Confidence is arrogance with a better name."

At the law office they were immediately ushered into a partner's conference room and Philip was welcomed by an older gentleman, Jack Urban, like he owned the building.

Philip noticed that his long-time lawyer, one of his father's closest advisers and sort of an unofficial uncle, fussed over Ai with real warmth after an initial appearance of shock. He assumed he figured out their relationship was more than just business and was initially taken aback by Ai's youth. And Ai was so very lovely, breathtaking in her simple yet exotic way, that it didn't surprise him to see his old friend react the way he did.

It was over in twenty minutes. Ai was asked to sign some papers here and there and they even conducted the company's first board meeting where she was elected chairwoman of the board by acclamation. She walked out with two manilla envelopes, one with a folder containing the corporate papers and one with a stock certificate and a document proclaiming the existence of FMI, Incorporated, a Nevada Corporation.

"Why Nevada?" She had asked at the conference table as she signed.

"I'll never own a California company again. The taxes are insane."

The next stop was the bank and they were treated like even bigger big shots.

"As I said in my call yesterday," he spoke to a Mrs. Cash, which Ai found amusing, "we'd like to open a corporate account without fees of any kind."

"Of course, Mr. Conners. Our Business Advantage account has no fees if the balance is kept above ten thousand throughout the statement period."

"You mean if it drops below ten grand then the fees start. Even for one day?" That sounded unreasonable to Ai.

"Yes. That's correct."

"I don't know, Philip. That seems pretty strict."

"What would you like to open the account with?" Mrs. Cash asked.

Ai realized that they had never talked about capitalizing the company and her jaw fell when he said four-hundred thousand dollars.

"But..." she objected, "that's too much."

"We have a million shares. Each will be worth forty cents. Seems about right to me."

"But we can't use that much money," she objected, knowing full well he was giving her two hundred and forty grand, about what she had set as her goal to quit escorting.

"It's just going to sit here in the bank at, like, one percent," she said.

"No it won't. You can see my guys later in the week and move everything over fifty thousand into higher yield investments."

"But it's still too much."

He turned in the chair in which he was seated and looked at her. "What's the number one reason startups go under?"

"Undercapitalization, but we still don't need that much."

Mrs. Cash was confused. She'd never seen business partners have this kind of discussion.

"Let's not start the company with an argument." He shifted his attention. "Mrs. Cash, I am directing you to transfer that amount into the new account from the one ending in seven-three-two-seven."

"Yes, Mr. Conners." She knew who Philip was and would swim the bay to keep him banking with her branch.

Ai was moved to within a hairs breadth of crying at the gesture. With what he had done for her in the last couple of hours she could close the company tomorrow and walk away with the money she'd make fucking almost five-hundred guys. It was solemn proof of his love for her. Not that she needed it, but it was moving just the same.

They got back in the car and headed south toward San Jose State.

##########

Mei left her explanation for taking the day off vague, and told the director of her fictitious uncle's death and how she would like to use her vacation time to attend the memorial service in LA. She didn't enjoy lying the way Jenny had but the story of the magnanimous dead uncle needed to be established.

The director said that in all of her time she'd never known of an employee going to the extreme of having a temp sub for her. She reluctantly admitted, however, that Mrs. Boyd had been remarkably competent and efficient and was secretly hoping Mei Chun might miss more work.

Samantha whispered to her when the director left, "You will not leave out one detail at the lunch you are going to buy me. If your man is rich enough to get you a temp then you can afford lunch."

Mei winked her agreement and the day began.

There were questions and remarks about Mrs. Boyd and how unusual it was. Even Dr. K made an exaggerated greeting to the VIP employee. But things calmed down and by ten the rhythm of the day had settled into the standard routine of the office. Except for Mei. She was apprehensive; worried that perhaps Dr. K would misunderstand her gesture, or offer, or proposition. She was now confused a bit as to what exactly it was, this desire to offer to suck his cock. She fiddled and fumbled, unused to the feeling of moths tickling her diaphragm. It was an unpleasant feeling but one she couldn't shake. Her hands were cold and her breathing difficult.

At quarter past ten she saw her opportunity. A young Chinese woman entered the clinic alone. She had the look of a working girl, fake eyelashes and boobs that didn't move. She got out of her chair and motioned for Judy to take over. She grabbed a clipboard and went into the waiting room.

"Nǐ hǎo. Nǐ shì zhōngguó rén bā? (Hi. You're Chinese aren't you?)"

"Shì de, wǒ shì. (Yes, I am)," the woman said, a bit startled at the personal attention.

She sat with her and filled out the forms and told her to wait. Then she went back and made sure that she was Dr. K's next appointment.

A few minutes later she took her in and sat waiting with her for Dr. K. Her nerves were really on edge and to calm them she chatted with the girl about her life in China and how she got to the U.S.

Eventually she told Mei she had a woman's problem and wanted to know if the doctor would be a woman. Mei told her that it would be a male doctor but that he was the finest in the clinic and the one she would go to if she had a similar problem. She was skeptical but trusted Mei. She'd never yet met another Chinese in her short time in America who was as nice.

At the end of her biography he came in, introduced himself in the friendly way Mei had heard a hundred times but that she still liked. She translated and the woman's apprehension faded quickly. She had, she thought, an STD, being a 'Jìnǚ' (hen, Chinese for prostitute).

It didn't phase Dr. K. He'd seen thousands of hookers and had no issues with the way they made their living. In fact he noticed that a cheerful personality was common in the profession. He was a bit confused as to why she proffered the information, however, but figured maybe Chinese were more open about that kind of thing with their doctors.

Usually a blood draw and urine test were all that were done but she said there were bumps and explained to Mei that was why she wanted a female doctor. Mei thought it odd, this modesty in a prostitute and assured her not to give it another thought.

She stood and removed her jeans and got up on the exam table. Mei motioned for her to remove her panties and spread her legs as Dr. K put on gloves.

He examined her and spoke to Mei, describing the bumps and assumed she was taking notes.

He put his gloved hand on her flat belly and used his thumb to part her folds. It struck Mei as faintly erotic.

"How..." she started to ask but thought better of it and stopped.

Dr. K looked up at her. He noted a nervousness in her that was unusual. "Yes?"

"Nothing," she said quickly.

He pressed on one of the bumps. "What were you going to say, Mei Chun?"

"It's kinda personal."

"It's ok. Does she speak English?"

"Nǐ néng shuō yīngyǔ ma? (Can you speak English?)"

"Wǒ bù shuō (nope)."

"Not a word, she says."

"Ok. What's your question?"

"How can you do that and not let it affect you?"

"You mean look at a woman's vulva?"

"Yeah, I mean, I'm a woman and it still does a little something to me. And I'm no lesbian." After the briefest of pauses she continued, "Well, not really."

He gave her a quick curious glance, then said, "Through years of steely determination. That and having seen so many of 'em."

"So..." she said tentatively, "it's not sexual at all? Like, you have no interest anymore?"

"Not in this context, no."

"But in your private life?"

"Well," he said, "that's a different story." He spun in his chair, removed his gloves and indicated to the patient that she could get dressed. "Tell her they are ingrown hairs. She's probably never shaved before. Is that right?"

Mei relayed the hopeful diagnosis and asked.

"No, never she said."

"Ok. Get a nurse to have those tests done and see me in my office." He gave the patient a reassuring smile.

Mei knew he wasn't upset and some of her nervousness was gone. She quickly got a nurse and told the much relieved and chatty, patient to get some cream at the drugstore and that she would return in a few minutes.

"So, what was that about, Mei Chun? Have a seat," he said as she entered and closed the door.

She sat in the old comfortable chair that had always been in his office and came right to the point. "I'm worried about you, Dr. K. You've been dragging yourself around here with your heart bleeding and it's got me worried and concerned for you."

"That obvious?"

"Yeah. We've all noticed it."

"So some personal questions about sex, you thought, might get my mind off my troubles?"

"Weeeellllll," she said, drawing out the word like it was copper rod being drawn into wire, "not exactly."

He looked puzzled.

"See, I had this idea." This was getting difficult. "I wanted..." She looked at him more intently, "I had thought..."

"Yes?"

"Don't rush me!" she snapped.

"Sorry."

"See, I like you Dr. K. You were the one that made working here tolerable all those months when I hated my job. Now I like it but then I hated everyone here but you. You were always nice and treated me well even when I was an insufferable bitch."

He nodded his head slightly. "You've made quite a change when you dropped Jenny."

"You have no idea."

"A new boyfriend will do that, I guess."

"A total transformation," she agreed. "So I wanted to do something special for you. Something to help you forget your troubles, even for a little while. Something to show my appreciation for your kindness and tolerance for Jenny."

"And asking me how I felt with my thumb on a patient's clitoral sheath was what you came up with?"

"No. Do you still like sex?"

"Of course. Oddly, I think about it more than ever. I should be declining but..." He shook his head a bit, "Perhaps it's a last gasp before it leaves me forever." He had been thinking it was the testosterone replacement medication he'd been prescribed two months ago that might be responsible for his renewed vigor.

"Do you masturbate?"

"Jenny!"

"Mei Chun, please. Have you seen anyone else since your wife died?"

"No," he said, and looked at the wall behind her, "I haven't."

She saw the wistful look on his face. "But you'd like to?"

"Yes. I guess. It's time. Got a grandma you want to set me up with? Is that what this is about?"

"No. Me."

It didn't register. Like the wrong key for a lock, the words wouldn't fit into his ear. He reflexively leaned forward in his chair like she wasn't speaking loud enough. "Come again?"

"Me. I want you to have me."

"Mei?"

"Yes. I mean I don't expect you to fall in love with me. My boyfriend wouldn't like that, but a few times just to release the tension. To let you relax. Sexual but casual. Like a really good massage."

She felt so good now that it was out. She'd noticed the nerves had faded; her hands were warm again and a different kind of excitement was present in her belly.

"I... I... I don't know what to say. You're not playing with me, are you? Because I would really be hurt if this were a joke."

"Never. I would never do that, Dr. K."

"You really want to have sex with me?"

"I was thinking a blow job would be nice. Yes."

He sat back in his chair and stared at her.

"I'm very good," she said with hopeful pride.

"I am sure you are. I'm just frankly astounded."

"Yeah. Perhaps you need some time to think about it? Why don't you just stroke my behind as a signal or something when you want it and if you don't find the idea... um... interesting we don't have to bring it up again and I'll find something else you'd like. Ok?"

"Ok." He didn't mean to say, ok, as in 'ok, I'll take a blow job please.' He meant it as 'ok, I acknowledge the conversation is at an end.'

"Ok, great. Anytime is fine. Just pat my ass or something."

"Right," he didn't mean to say that either but she left with an enormous smile as she closed the door.

He sat, flabbergasted.

Mei returned to the Chinese woman, probably in her early thirties, and chatted a while as her blood was drawn. She liked her instinctively and realized that the working girls she knew, Sarah and Ai were indeed happy people. She wondered if happy women went into prostitution or if being prostitutes they were made happy by getting so much dick.

She wrote her extension number on an appointment card, circled the clinic's number on the front and, at the last moment, wrote her cell number on the back.

"Zhè shì wǒ de shǒujī hàomǎ (this is my cell phone number)," she said as she handed her the card and told her to call for results in four days or if she needed help and said good bye.

"Xièxiè (thank you)," was all the woman could think of to say.

Back up front, preparing to file the folder, Samantha took her arm and dragged her out of the employee door.

"You're taking me to Boulevard for a long lunch, Mei Chun, honey and you're spilling the beans. All of 'em. You're starting in the cab and not stopping till we get back."

She did indeed start in the cab by telling her that's how she traveled since meeting Philip, "He's got a whole taxi service on call for me." She then started on a description of Philip, leaving out his wealth, making it seem like he wasn't all that rich and was digging into savings to splurge on her.

"Yep, men can go overboard on things like this."

She told her a lie about her own newfound wealth which was difficult for her — she didn't like lying. The explanation that her uncle died and left her a pile was politely received if not believed.

At the restaurant Samantha insisted on the quiet table she had requested when making the reservation. They were seated with a breathtaking view of the bridge. When they were left with the menus she prompted her to continue and Mei described Friday night. She told her about Otto.

"I knew he'd get you one."

"He made it himself. It was amazing. He's so handy that way."

She told her about Ai and how he met her.

"Don't let that bother you, honey," Samantha said, finally deciding on what to have for lunch and putting down the menu, "Men like ours often need a bit extra."

"Oh no, I was delighted. And Ai's the perfect girl. She's so pretty and we're just like sisters now."

"So you have no problem with it?"

"No way. We all slept in bed last night and I could hardly tear myself out of the shower this morning when I left them in there kissing. I wasn't at all jealous. Not really. Not, I mean, like, scratch her eyes out jealous. More envious I guess. Like, not green dragon jealousy. More like..."

"Ok. I get it. You don't begrudge her but would rather it be you."

"Right. And with the two of them was, like, mind-blowing. But, I'm getting things out of order."

Mei ordered a mimosa and Samantha asked for the same and the waiter took their lunch order.

She told her of Sunday night with Karla and the test, describing being bound for her and giggling when she described her face when she entered the room. "I thought her eyes would pop."

"I've never tried those hooks. I was always afraid I would slip and get impaled or something," Samantha said. "Sounds like he's got a well equipped room."

"Yeah, it's got everything. We haven't had time to use it all yet."

She was telling her about binding Karla to the machine when their food arrived and Samantha found it hard to concentrate. Girls weren't her thing, but the description of Mei taking control of Karla tickled her in the right places. She thought that maybe she should have explored that side of things when she was younger.

While she ate her Maryland Crab Cake salad, which she shared with Samantha, Mei told her about Tim and the tricky situation and how she hoped it would work out.

Samantha was starting to become incredulous. The story just kept getting more complex with more characters. It was like the three body problem in her college physics classes. Two bodies interacting gravitationally was a straightforward equation, like the orbit of the moon around the earth. But when a third body was introduced the math got exponentially more difficult. Mei was describing a five body problem.

"How you going to manage all this, Mei Chun?"

"Ai won't be a problem. She's already so in love with Philip and she's like my long lost sister so we love each other already and Karla and Ai won't be a problem either. The issue is Tim."

She told her how Philip had talked with him and about his offer to help him with girls and an apartment.

"He'd be a fool to refuse," she said.

"I don't think he will. The way he stared at me while I was..." she looked around the fine dining room, "well, you know."

"Sex touches something really deep inside us."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she said in a tone of voice that conveyed the awe she felt.

They finished their lunch and settled on coffee rather than dessert. They chatted a bit more, Samantha increasingly astounded by her young friend and her tale.

When the bill came Mei put her black card on the folder. Samantha noticed it and picked it up.

"Now, Mei Chun, I politely didn't call your tale about this dead rich uncle bullshit, but you're not fooling me."

"I can't talk about it."

"I've never seen one of these. It's metal for god's sake."

"Titanium."

"My lord!"

"It comes with a concierge."

"Mei Chun, honey, you are on the ride of your life. I am so happy for you. When you gonna quit?"

"Huh?"

"Well goodness girl. With a black Amex my guess is Philip is stinking rich and you don't need to work in the clinic."

"He says I have to work but I'm thinking I might ask the director if I can take Wednesdays off and spend them at the kids center I told you about."