Annie arrived that evening at Professor Xia's address. She stared in awe at the luxury apartments before her. Did teaching at the University enable someone to live here? She wondered to herself. She stepped out of the taxi, gathered her purse and the two stuffed grocery bags she'd brought. She was second guessing her attempt at an olive branch now. A man who could afford such living accommodations could afford a personal chef or meals from Michelin star restaurants. Her intent had been to cook a nice meal to show contrition and sincerity. Would she make yet another blunder? It was too late for second guesses now.
She glanced at his address on her phone. This was definitely the place. When she walked inside she saw an elegant woman sitting behind an ornate desk.
"Can I help you?" The woman asked in English with a Chinese accent. Annie felt a bit of irritation. Would people in China always assume that she couldn't speak the language? Was this what they felt when Americans assumed they didn't speak fluent English?
Annie answered her in clear Chinese. The woman's eyes widened but she buzzed Professor Xia's apartment. A brief exchange occurred between the woman at the desk and who Annie assumed to be the professor on the other line. The woman then turned to Annie and told her to take the elevator to the twelfth floor. Annie stepped into the elevator and did as instructed. In a few moments she was sailing up toward his floor.
Suddenly she realized that she didn't have his apartment number. Before she could text him the question, the elevator opened into the entryway of not a floor, but a suite. She cautiously stepped out of the elevator.
"Uh, Professor?" She tentatively called out as she stepped out of her heels and took a pair of slippers from the shoe caddy just outside of the elevator. She hung her purse on the hooks above.
"In here!" He called out. She followed the sound of his voice, walking into an open floor plan of a living room, dining room and kitchen area. She sat down the groceries on the bar, looking around with wide eyes, and walked down a hallway in the direction he had spoken from. She passed by what appeared to be stylishly decorated bedrooms. Finally she found him in his home office. He was leaned back in an expensive looking leather desk chair. His feet wore slippers instead of dress shoes and he'd shed his suit jacket and tie. A few of the top buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned. He looked relaxed and sophisticated all at once.
He looked up at her while she glanced over at the printer copier that was spitting out endless syllabus papers.
"I see you had no trouble finding me," He said.
"I wasn't sure I was in the right place until I heard your voice, to be honest," she said.
"I have other sources of income," he said by way of explanation.
She felt her face heat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—" she began to say but was interrupted.
"I know what you meant. Come, would you like something to drink?" He stood and gestured towards the door.
"Uh, what do you have?" She asked as she preceded him into the hallway. He led the way to the kitchen and dining area where a functional bar separated the two. He pointed to the wine racks where she saw he had a number of what looked to be very expensive wines.
"There's also tea, coffee, and bottled water," he said.
She wasn't sure what social protocol dictated here, so she simply said, "I'll have whatever you're having."
He took down two stimmed wine glasses from the cabinet above the bar and uncorked a fresh bottle of red wine. He poured a generous portion for them both and handed her a glass. He tapped his glass to hers and said, "Cheers."
"Cheers," she said softly and took a small sip. She was of the legal drinking age as she was twenty-two, but she had never been known to hold her liquor well. The wine, however, was excellent.
"What is all of this?" Professor Xia asked, pointing at the groceries.
"I wanted to make dinner for you as a way to show you how sorry I am about today. I ran into you, ruined your papers, got coffee on your suit jacket, and was late to your class. The least I can do is make you dinner." She said.
His eyes widened in pleasure. He began emptying the bags on the counter. Fresh steaks, potatoes, vegetables, a number of other things filled the counter.
"But, I think you might be accustomed to finer foods. And, I can't cook Chinese food authentically yet. But I am good at cooking Western food." She explained.
"I normally order something and have it delivered. It's been awhile since I've had home cooked food. It will be a treat. And I think if you're already skilled in cooking then you will become accustomed to cooking Chinese cuisine eventually." He said to encourage her.
She took another sip of wine and began her prep work.
"Can you tell me where everything is?" She asked. He showed her the pots and pans, pulled out a cutting board and knives and then refilled their wine glasses. She washed her hands and he followed suit.
"What can I do to help?" He asked.
"Oh, but, I don't expect you to help!" Annie exclaimed.
"Nonsense. It will be finished in half the time if we both do it." Professor Xia insisted.
"Okay. I was going to grill some vegetables to go with the steaks. Can you chop the vegetables?" She asked.
"I am a university professor with a post doctorate degree. I think I can handle cutting vegetables." His voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Has anyone ever told you not to be rude to a woman with a knife in her hand?" She scrunched her face into a fake grimace as she teased him. His jaw went slack as he stared at her.
"Oh my gosh, Professor, I'm only teasing!" She exclaimed. He shook his head.
He who normally had a steady hand while cutting found himself hopelessly distracted with her in his kitchen. She smelled of roses and vanilla. He was mesmerized by her voice and as she moved about she occasionally brushed against him.
He breathed a deep contented breath. She was completely different from his ex-wife. Wei Ming. She lived up to her name. She was ambitious and independent. But she was also harsh and cold. She nagged and complained often. She was the reason there had never been another woman in his life. He never wanted to end up married to someone like her ever again.
A sharp pain interrupted his memories. He sucked in a breath but Annie noticed it. She immediately reached for his hand and held it gently.
"Do you have a first aide kit?" She asked while carefully holding his hand.
"Under the sink." He hissed from pain. His distraction had caused him to nick his finger. He rinsed the blood from his hand while she located the kit.
He watched her tenderly care for his wound. He knew had it been his ex, she would complain the whole time that he was foolish to be distracted. Annie was gentle and calm. The ringing of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts.
"Excuse me," he said as he made his way back to the office where his phone was. He cringed when he saw the caller ID.