The Expat Diaries: Twelve Days to Christmas (Single in the City Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  The Expat Diaries:

  Twelve Days to Christmas

  Michele Gorman

  Copyright

  All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2012 Michele Gorman

  Cover Illustration copyright © Yurchenko Yulia

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the publisher.

  Also by Michele Gorman

  The Curvy Girls Club

  Perfect Girl

  Bella Summer Takes a Chance

  The Reluctant Elf

  Christmas Carol

  The Expat Diaries: Single in the City

  The Expat Diaries: Misfortune Cookie

  Weightless (a Romantic Comedy Short Story)

  ♫ On the First day of Christmas my fortune gave to me…

  a ticket home to see my family ♪

  This wasn’t your normal proposal.

  ‘He’s going to ask me to marry him,’ I said, shakily tucking my mobile back into the beach bag. I felt sick. Giddiness? Nausea? Too much sun? Whatever the cause, I needed to sit down. ‘Ohmygod, he’s going to ask me to marry him!’

  ‘How do you know?’ Stacy asked, scooting closer to my beach towel and covering me with sand in the process. Tiny pieces of white shell stuck to my obsessively sun-creamed legs. ‘He just told you that? Now? On the phone?’

  We had the beach nearly to ourselves, even though the unusually warm December weekend made it hot enough to fry pancakes on the pavement. Warm winter days were just one more perk of living in Hong Kong. Not that the locals would dare venture out in less than a winter coat at that time of year. Their wonky internal thermostats convinced them that temperatures below 85°F caused vital organs to freeze.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Brent asked from his towel, millimeters from mine despite the unoccupied expanse of sand on either side of us. He liked to be close, like a puppy, always underfoot.

  ‘Well, I’m not a hundred per cent sure, and he didn’t call to tell me that. He just wanted to say hello because he missed me.’ I smiled at that. We’d only seen each other last night. It was such a romantic night. Just thinking about him made me giddy. My grin widened. Stacy made a vomit face. ‘We were talking about Christmas,’ I continued. ‘And he said he has something important to talk to my parents about when we go home. He hasn’t even met them yet. What else could it be? Deductive reasoning, right?’

  Stacy nodded.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Brent searched my face.

  ‘I can’t believe it, it’s amazing! I mean, it seems quick, I know… but it’s not, really. We’ve been together over a year. All right,’ I said, noting Stacy’s expression. ‘Except for those few months.’ What an annoying stickler for detail she could be. ‘I can’t believe it. He’s going to propose. Wow.’

  ‘Yeah, wow,’ said Brent and Stacy together.

  The prospect of taking Sam home to meet my family seemed way less serious back in November when we booked the flights. Granted, involving airports when introducing a boyfriend to your family will inject an air of significance to the event. There’s no way around that. We couldn’t exactly pop by for a casual inspection over Mom’s pot roast from six thousand miles away.

  I was excited about Christmas even before I knew Sam was coming with me. It had been nearly two years since I’d been home. I couldn’t wait: seeing snow, and caroling in the neighborhood where I grew up, waking on Christmas morning to the smell of Mom’s pancakes, arguing with my sister about which cheesy DVD to watch first, being chastised by Dad for eating all the dark chocolates from the giant Russell Stover box his students give him every year. Ah, family. I figured Sam was looking forward to his own arguments back home in Wyoming, where they’d do Wyomingesque things like rustle cattle or chop down trees in the snow. But no, he had more than rodeos on his mind for the holidays. ‘I’d like to come home with you, and meet your parents,’ he’d said as we snuggled on the outdoor sofa of my favorite rooftop bar. ‘Next year maybe we can visit my family together.’

  My belly had flipped at the implication. Next year. Talk about a statement of intent. Ever since I first fell in love with him, I’d wanted to hear words like that. Of course he was welcome to come home with me. Aside from the chance to spend nearly two weeks together, day and night, and show him off to my family, there was the small matter of getting there without the need for tranquilizers. I wasn’t known for my composure at thirty thousand feet. As my best friend and fellow Connecticuter, Stacy was contractually obliged to join me in fright, er, flight. But she was exercising an exemption clause to stay with my boss instead (in a non-professional capacity; he was also her boyfriend). That meant an empty seat beside me, ideally to be filled by someone who wouldn’t make the flight attendant change his seat just because I’d crawled into his lap and begged him to hold me.

  ‘Hannah?’ Brent caught my attention. ‘What do you want to do?’

  I searched his face for hurt. I didn’t want to upset him but I had to be honest. ‘Well… I love Sam. Sure, we’ve had our problems, but that’s behind us now. These past months have been wonderful, incredible. Like they were before, when we were in London. Of course I’d want to marry him.’

  ‘… I meant do you want to swim or lie here a bit longer?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, flushing with embarrassment. ‘Yes, let’s snorkel. Yes, okay, good idea.’

  ‘Oh my god, it’s freezing!’ Stacy shouted, laughing as she ran headlong into the water, setting off for mainland China in a front crawl and leaving Brent and me in the shallows to torture ourselves one shivery inch at a time. When we got to the sensitive bits, we stopped.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ He asked.

  ‘Not really. Maybe I’ll just stay here for a minute, then go back to the beach.’

  ‘I mean about Sam.’

  ‘Oh. Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?’ Bracing myself, I dove under water, unwilling to expose those sensitive bits either.

  The Hong Kongers were right. Icicles formed on my lungs. ‘Holy smokes, it’s cold!’ Hyperventilating seemed to help. ‘Are you watching for sharks, Brent?’

  ‘Doing my job, sir, yes sir!’ He boosted himself out of the water, scanning the horizon for deadly fins, looking like a very wet, ginger meerkat. ‘Though I don’t know what you think you’d do if you saw one.’

  I’d re-enact one of Jesus’ greatest hits. How could he be so cavalier about the risk of watery death? If toothy predators weren’t an issue, then why were the beaches ringed with shark nets? Exactly. They weren’t decorative features and I wasn’t eager to become the object of pity when people read the headlines. ‘Newly Engaged Expat Eaten by Sharks.’ No thanks.

  Newly engaged. Sam was really going to pop the question. My Sam, love of my life, The One. I’d wanted it ever since we first started going out. How many times had I imagined spending the rest of our lives together? Too many to count. And it
was really about to happen. I dove under water again and screamed to the fishes, releasing a cascade of joyous bubbles from the snorkel. ‘Woo hoo!’ That’s how I felt, Brent, since you asked. And you should be happy for me, like you said you would be. I was going to be Mrs. Hannah Parker. My belly churned at the thought. Tears steamed the inside of my mask as I bobbed along with my face in the water. Yes, definitely excitement. And hope and love. And… something else. I felt light-headed, short of breath, and it wasn’t only because hypothermia was setting in. When I thought about saying yes to Sam, I felt just the tiniest bit panicked. Was it because our relationship hadn’t been a hundred per cent perfect? Nobody’s was perfect. That was unrealistic. We all had little things we’d like to be different. It didn’t really matter that he’d only watch chick flicks under duress, or that he loved oysters. We were aligned on the big things, the important ones. I was sure I’d be thrilled to marry Sam. Ninety-nine per cent sure. Ninety-five at the very least. Those were great odds. Everybody had some doubts. That was to be expected in a normal relationship. Still…

  At the first painfully searing bite, I knew Brent had been wrong to tease me. Hardly a comforting I-told-you-so. ‘Ow ow ow owowOWOWOW!’ I screeched, slapping at whatever was taking an interest in me for lunch. I was just able to stand on the sandy bottom, giving some traction as I lumbered from the water, still bellowing. In solidarity, or fright, Stacy and Brent fled behind me to the beach.

  ‘What’s wrong, Hannah? What happened?’ Stacy shouted as she caught up.

  ‘Something bit me! Look.’ Raised red welts were beginning to streak across my shoulder and upper arm. ‘Jeez, it hurts. It really hurts!’

  ‘Jellyfish,’ said Brent, inspecting the angry marks. ‘You must have swum into one. Did you see anything?’

  The mask. Of course. I’d just run up the beach in my snorkel and goggles. And fins. What a lovely sight – pale, bellowing, and waddling. The mask came off with a sucking sound. ‘No, I only saw fish. Maybe it was a fish bite?’

  ‘What, like a piranha?’ Stacy laughed. ‘This is Hong Kong, not the Amazon.’

  ‘It might have been just a few pieces of tentacles that broke off,’ Brent said. ‘That sometimes happens. Look, you can see that they’re not bites. Hopefully it’s not too poisonous, though.’

  The welts were spreading across my chest. ‘Poisonous? I have to say you’re both awfully calm considering I might have just suffered a deadly jellyfish attack. God, it really hurts! It’s getting worse.’ It was as bad as the tetanus injection I’d had when I first moved. And that made me cry. Something was stinging inside my bikini top. ‘Will ice help?’

  Stacy smirked. ‘I don’t think so. There’s only one thing I’ve heard of that stops the sting. Er, tuck yourself back in, please.’ She pointed to my bikini bottom, where a tuft of hair was making an appearance. Just to round off the look. ‘You know what you’ve got to do.’

  I sighed. I’d thought the same thing but hoped there was a solution that didn’t involve urine. ‘Do I look like a contortionist? Besides, I can’t. I… I just went. So…’ I shrugged at her.

  ‘Sorry, Han, I was right there with you in the big blue toilet. Brent?’

  ‘Aw, god, you’re not serious. You want me to wee on Hannah?’

  ‘Brent, I’m not interested in a golden shower. Stacy and I have no pee. Do you?’

  ‘Yes, Han, unlike you two filthy girls, I don’t piss in the sea.’

  ‘Good. Then you can piss on our friend instead. Win-win. Go ahead. Here, I’ll shield you with the towel.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ I said, nearly in tears from the pain. ‘Be civilized at least. Go do it in a cup.’

  He huffed. ‘Why don’t you get Sam to do it?’

  ‘Brent, there’s not time and it really hurts. Should I go ask Mr. Chan over there to interrupt his family picnic to help out a stranger?’

  His face softened as sympathy won out over his Britishness. ‘Bugger. Fine. I’ll be back in a minute. God, the things I do for my friends.’ He stomped off to the little beach restaurant.

  I don’t know how long the stings would have lasted, but a few minutes after Brent’s medicine was applied they were manageable. The shine had come off the day, though, between the searing pain and demands made of Brent’s bladder. We were unusually subdued on the bus ride back home.

  ‘Han, are you okay?’ Stacy asked as we stared out the window at the sheer drop to the sea on one side and steeply forested mountain on the other.

  ‘Sure, I’m fine. Why?’

  ‘You’re awfully quiet for someone who’s just found out she’s going to be proposed to. Want to talk about it?’

  That’s why she was my best friend. After twenty years together (minus the year I lived in London when she was still in the US), she sometimes knew what I was thinking even before I did. But thinking wasn’t enough. She was going to make me talk about it. I told her about the ninety-five per cent.

  ‘Han, if you’ve got any doubts at all, you need to think really carefully. You know I haven’t always thought Sam was the best boyfriend.’ That was an understatement. ‘But he does seem to have come good, and realized he was a dickhead. I don’t doubt that he loves you very much. He tells you that every day now. But you should look at your own feelings too. Don’t be blinded by the offer.’

  ‘I’m not blinded by the offer! Stace, I’ve wanted this since we were back in London. I wouldn’t have moved here, halfway around the world, to be with him if I wasn’t sure. You know all that.’

  ‘I also know that when you did move here, it wasn’t exactly the fairytale romance you’d imagined. Was it?’

  No, it wasn’t what I’d imagined. What kind of sick Cupid would post your boyfriend to Vietnam the week you arrive in Hong Kong with all your worldly belongings? It did all work out in the end, though, now that we’re in the same city again. ‘We’ve come through all that,’ I murmured.

  ‘Not without a lot of pain. Maybe that’s why you have doubts. And you shouldn’t do something just because it was what you wanted a year ago. Not after what happened. Things changed, and you only got back together a few months ago. Think about it. Once he talks to your parents it’ll be too late to turn back. Do you really want to answer his question in front of your whole family?’ She took my hand. ‘What if the answer is no?’

  It wouldn’t be no. These were just jitters. Normal pre-proposal jitters that everybody had. I was sure of it. Ninety-five per cent.

  But the fact was, once my parents were involved it would no longer just be about the two of us. My mother had caterers on speed dial. She’d notify half the family within minutes of talking to Sam. I did not want my wedding planning to start before I’d even been asked. Sam and I should get at least a few hours of our own time to revel in being engaged before everyone found out. Stacy was right. I definitely didn’t want to be home when he popped the question. He had to do it before we left. Operation Proposal was about to begin.

  ♫ On the Second day of Christmas my fortune gave to me…

  two second thoughts

  and a ticket home to see my family ♪

  Work arrived on Monday with more than the usual chaos. Our offices, at the untrendy end of Nathan Road, three flights up dingy stairs, generally looked like a cross between a sweat shop and a dressing-up closet. That’s because it was a cross between a sweat shop and a dressing-up closet.

  Keeping the high streets of Europe stocked with knock-off fashion necessitated a certain amount of clutter. We sold to the buyers based on the samples sent from suppliers over the Chinese border. Those samples teetered on every desk and in every corner. Half-crushed cardboard boxes littered the floor, filled with last season’s must-haves, now this season’s must-get-rid-ofs. But nobody had. Nobody ever did. And we had important visitors arriving on Friday. Visitors who needed impressing.

  ‘Hannah. Josh would like to see you,’ Mrs. Reese said as I arrived at my desk.

  I smiled my biggest, most phony smile. ‘Thank you, Mr
s. Reese.’ The old battle-ax had some nerve. If I’d done what she did, and been caught, there’s no way I’d come back to work. Josh was an unbelievably forgiving boss. His management style hadn’t rubbed off on me.

  I knocked on Josh’s door frame, an unnecessary formality. He’d only closed the door once in the nearly-year I’d been there. That was when he’d hauled Mrs. Reese in to explain exactly why she’d tried to get me deported. I’d have loved to be a fly on the wall, to hear her squirm. She did squirm when she realized that by reporting me to the Immigration Department she’d risked the future of the company she loved. Because if Josh hadn’t produced a work visa – which was as surprising to me when he did as it was to the immigration officers – he’d have been in big trouble for illegally employing me. Which just showed that Mrs. Reese was devious, but not great at considering consequences. In my book that made her dangerous, and I’d never have let her come back to work. But her lifetime of loyalty to the company and the family went a long way with Josh.

  ‘Nice weekend?’ he asked, leaning back in his chair and smiling. ‘How are the stings? Stacy said they were pretty bad.’

  When Josh and Stacy first got together I wasn’t sure about having my personal life and work life overlap. But after nearly six months the only drawback I found was that calling in sick required much better acting. And from Stacy’s point of view, there were no drawbacks at all. She was a smitten kitten. ‘Better. Fine, thanks. I don’t know if I’ll rush back into the water, though.’

  ‘Well, not at this time of year. It’s freezing!’

  ‘You only say that because you were born here. Normal people don’t think it’s that cold.’ Josh, despite his frightfully English accent, was a Hong Konger to the core. His grandfather came out in the forties to make his fortune, and started the export business as Brits were just beginning to fall in love with the fashions of the Orient. Josh’s father continued to build, and then Josh. The blood, sweat and tears of three generations of Boltons created the company. That’s what made the big meeting on Friday all the more distressing. ‘We’ve got a lot to do before Friday, so let me know what help you need, okay?’ I said. ‘I’ve just got to call a few more buyers this week about the flammability issue, so I can help any way you’d like.’