Counterfeit Love (2 page)

Get your butt down to Rusty’s. Now! Yu just walked in!

Lucy shook her head.
Unbelievable.
How could this all be happening in one night? Yu Weiran was a media-shy multimillionaire, and she’d been trying to pin him down for an interview since she started at TVi. His staff never returned her calls or emails. Lucy had even tried dating a guy from his office to get to Yu, but the result had been the same. She’d never even set eyes on him, but she thought if she had a chance to casually chat to him over a drink, then maybe, just maybe, she could convince him to appear on TVi. That would be a coup that would definitely get her noticed at work.

Lucy didn’t have to think too hard for another reason to postpone her trip home; a guy with a serious face and tanned arms was still at the back of her mind. There was something about him that had her intrigued – something going on behind those brown eyes. She wondered if he might end up in Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s hottest nightlife area, later, too. Why not? Everyone else under thirty did.

‘Lan Kwai Fong, please,’ she directed the taxi driver.

Who knows
, Lucy thought,
this could be my lucky night.

As the taxi hummed along towards Lan Kwai Fong, Lucy’s mind drifted between the hot guy from the bar, Yu Weiran and the mysterious envelope. She put the shopping bag on her lap, realising there was no way she could wait until she got back to her apartment to uncover the secret.

Lucy glanced at the taxi driver in his rear-view mirror to check he was watching the road and not her, and slowly pulled out the envelope. It felt softer than she’d imagined, but full.
Full of secrets
, she thought to herself. She felt a surge of guilt at the thought of Mr Safari Suit getting a call from the real Miss Chan demanding to know where her package was. She was probably sitting in the hotel bar right now, waiting for him to turn up. Mr Safari Suit would be cursing Lucy all the way back to 1975, or wherever it was that he came from.

But this strange mix-up was going to propel Lucy from behind-the-scenes newsroom newbie right into the presenter’s chair. Lucy knew she already had a dream job – she’d been the envy of her entire journalism class when she landed the TVi gig straight out of uni – but she was aiming high. And she figured that once this story hit the air there’d be no more compiling boring market wraps for her; it could be Lucy Yang presenting hourly bulletins. At twenty-one!

She wondered what she’d wear for her first on-air appearance. She couldn’t stray too far from black or navy, but she’d certainly want to make a statement. A flash of fuchsia under a dark jacket would probably do the trick. She felt her pulse race at the thought of sitting in the presenter’s chair, the hot lights on her face and the camera pointed straight at her. Her heart was thumping as she imagined the director counting her in to the start of the bulletin, the program’s trailer playing in her earpiece.

And then it pounded again at the thought of who might be watching her first bulletin. If Cute Serious Guy were a banker he would definitely see it – they all watched TVi.

The taxi stopped suddenly at a set of lights, and Lucy caught herself. She had to stop letting her imagination run away like that. It wasn’t exactly an ideal trait for a reporter! She glanced around and recognised she was almost at Lan Kwai Fong. Then she looked at the envelope in her hands. It was time to find out what it was. Carefully she slipped a finger under the seal, then closed her eyes for a few moments, savouring the anticipation, forming a picture of her future in her mind, before opening the envelope.

She peered inside.
No.

It was supposed to be her ticket to the big league, but instead she was looking at what seemed to be a corporate shirt. Lucy pulled it out of the envelope and studied it. A drab grey shirt with the initials
H.D.
on the pocket. That crazy guy in a safari suit had given her a freebie golf shirt.
What was he on?

Lucy dropped the shirt in her lap. She took another look into the bottom of the envelope and breathed a sigh of relief. There was a box or something in one corner – an exclusive story might still be within her grasp! She tipped the envelope upside down, and out fell a small packet. Lucy held it up to examine it and then groaned. It was a packet of anti-malaria tablets.
What was this doing in the package?
Lucy wondered.
Surely Mr Safari Suit didn’t just accidentally leave it?

Lucy tossed the packet of tablets into her handbag along with the shirt, trying to puzzle out their meaning. Maybe the guy in the bad suit was ordering golf shirts for a corporate event or something, and was dropping off a sample. But that didn’t explain the pills or the secretive handover.

She racked her brain for anything the guy had said that might be a clue to what was going on.
May the winds favour you
was about the last thing he’d said.
Why do people think they can sound wise by quoting a Chinese proverb, anyway?
Lucy wondered. It probably wasn’t even a real saying – more likely just something Mr Safari Suit made up.
The tree that does not bend with the wind will be broken
was the only wind-related proverb that Lucy knew. She knew it very well because it was one of her father’s favourite pearls of wisdom; he dragged it out every time they fought. Lucy had a set of principles that she felt were worth defending, but her father just thought she was stubborn – an attitude that would bring her trouble, probably keep her single and, worst of all, deprive her parents of grandchildren!

Lucy slumped back in her seat. She’d be on market wraps for the rest of her life unless she did something to impress her boss, and an unremarkable grey golf shirt was not going to be the way to do it. Her thoughts turned to Yu. She had to pull something off with him, convince him to do an interview. It wouldn’t secure her a presenter’s job, but it would be a step in the right direction, possibly getting her the chance for some juicy assignments.

Lucy pondered the mysterious twenty-nine-year-old tycoon. He wasn’t well known, but he’d broken cover just after Lucy moved to Hong Kong. He’d splurged on a truckload of Qing Dynasty antiques at a Bonham’s auction, which had set him back several million dollars. Lucy had been tracking him ever since.

He ran a conglomerate of businesses across China, and Lucy knew his success story would make him a great guest on TVi – if only she could convince him to shed his inhibitions and appear on camera. If she could just get to know him, maybe she’d have more success. She’d done her homework, even researching Qing Dynasty art just in case she ever got the chance to meet Yu. Maybe tonight was the night she’d finally be able to put all that research to use.

As Lucy left the taxi her spirits were high again; she was eager to find Yu. She had almost forgotten about the ‘exclusive’ that never was, until the taxi driver called out to her.

‘Your bag.’

Lucy looked at the department store bag sitting on the back seat along with the empty envelope. She didn’t want them, but she assumed the driver didn’t either – she’d dump them when she found a bin. Lucy grabbed the envelope, shoved it into the shopping bag, then headed for Rusty’s, trying to forget about Mr Safari Suit and concentrate on her prospects with Yu.

‘Hey, gorgeous!’ Charlotte called as Lucy walked into the crowded bar. Charlotte was sitting at a large table near the door. Lucy recognised most of the others at the table as colleagues from Charlotte’s work. As Lucy walked towards them, Charlotte wriggled down the bench to make room for her. Lucy dropped her empty shopping bag on the seat, gave the group a wave and hugged her flatmate. Between Lucy’s shiftwork and Charlotte’s crazy hours, it had been a few days since they’d actually set eyes on each other.

‘Sorry, I couldn’t get away,’ Charlotte said. ‘We were all working late and then the boss decided to shout drinks for Cassie’s birthday. It was hard to say no.’

Lucy looked down the table and found Cassie in the middle of the group, her cheeks flushed, empty shot glasses scattered on the table in front of her. ‘Happy birthday,’ she called and blew her a kiss. Cassie blew one back.

‘Busy day?’ Charlotte asked.

‘Just the usual insanity. And you?’

‘I secured a dozen punnets of Patagonian raspberries for a client. Not very easy, but I did it.’

‘Well done, you.’ Lucy winked at her friend. She wondered how Charlotte managed to keep up with the ridiculous and practically impossible requests of her clients. Charlotte worked for Desire, an international concierge service for the obscenely wealthy. One week it would be Arctic mineral water, another week it would be a chef for their pet, the next, last-minute tickets to the final of a grand slam somewhere.

‘You missed some very weird shit at the Art Bar,’ Lucy said. ‘But I’ll tell you all about that right after I talk to Yu. Where is he?’

Charlotte pointed towards the back of the bar. ‘Down that way.’

Lucy stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck, peering in the direction that Charlotte had indicated. Through the crowd she could see a group of men sitting in a booth. She spotted Yu in the middle of them, laughing. She recognised him from a picture she’d seen of him, at some steel plant in Guangzhou. The small flash of white at the front of his black hair gave him away.

Lucy sat down beside Charlotte. ‘You sure you can’t just introduce me?’

Charlotte leant towards Lucy and whispered in her ear. ‘My boss would murder me if he knew I’d even tipped you off. He’s not even a proper client yet.’

Lucy got to her feet and sighed. ‘I know.’ She took a deep breath to prepare herself for walking to the back of the bar, interrupting a boys’ night out, introducing herself to a secretive tycoon and inviting him to appear on a business program. Even she could see that was a dubious plan but, before she had the chance to work out a better option, Yu slammed his whisky glass on the table and got to his feet.

‘
Crap,’ Lucy muttered under her breath. It looked like Yu was leaving. If she wanted to speak to him, she had to do it now.

Lucy watched as Yu straightened his shirt and then made his way through the crowd, followed by his cronies. He was almost at the front door when Lucy made her move. As casually as she could, she approached him.

‘Mr Yu,’ she called. ‘Do you have a moment?’

Yu paused momentarily. He glanced at Lucy and then continued towards the door. Lucy hurried after him, realising that she wasn’t going to have time to charm Yu into an interview; she’d have to get straight to the point.

‘Mr Yu,’ she called again, nudging one of his friends out of the way so she could get closer. ‘My name is Lucy Yang, I’m from TVi. I was just wondering if you’d consider an interview. Maybe I could call your office about it.’

Yu stopped for just long enough to glare at Lucy. ‘
No
.’ He flicked his hand as if he were swatting away a fly, then he and his crowd left the bar. From where she was standing, Lucy could see them get into a waiting limo. He was gone, along with any chance of an interview.

Lucy felt her body go limp; she had only hassled him like that because she was desperate, but she’d totally blown it – maybe for good. For several seconds Lucy stared at the space that had been left by the departing limo, disappointment draining any remaining desire to be in Lan Kwai Fong. What did she have to celebrate? She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the guy with dark hair and eyes to match standing right beside her until he opened his mouth.

‘Don’t I know you from somewhere?’ he asked with a soft American accent.

‘Huh?’ Lucy managed, her eyes drifting from the doorway to the guy beside her. She blinked in disbelief.

‘Of course, the Art Bar,’ the guy continued. ‘You were at the next table.’ His face gave way to that lopsided smile she remembered. ‘I’m Byron.’

‘I’m Lucy.’ She felt herself blush at the unexpected attention.

‘Mojito – right?’ he smiled.

Lucy nodded. ‘Yes, thanks … a mojito. What a coincidence. Are you meeting friends here, too? Or was it me you came to find?’

Lucy could feel her face go crimson as she said it.
What was
that
about?
She wasn’t usually that flirty, but she’d been mentally prepared for a discussion on Qing Dynasty antiques with Yu, not coincidences with a hot guy called Byron, who was now looking at her with raised eyebrows. She really had to work on her spontaneous bar banter – or learn to keep quiet.