Kate, Finally Page 2
“Oh, then I should probably go there.”
“Now?”
“No, not now. Now, I’m having coffee with you.”
And tonight? Layne wants to ask, but stops himself.
They go to one of the cafes on the street and order thick Vietnamese coffee, and talk. Layne tells Kate he is in Ho Chi Minh for a presentation. He is an IT consultant for one of the big four international consulting companies, and he is involved in a big roll-out for his current client with branches across the Asia Pacific region. Kate tells Layne she is there for research.
“Research for what?”
“I’m a writer,” Kate says. “My latest story is set in Vietnam.”
“You were writing back in Sydney too, right?”
“Yeah, I finished a novel that night. A very memorable night, if I may say so.”
Layne smiles and looks at Kate to see whether she was being coy. She smiles back.
“You know, you nearly died, so I think you deserve dinner, on me!” Layne offers. “And because I saved you from the jaws of the motorbike monster, you can’t say no.”
Kate laughs and the sound she makes reminds Layne of the sounds she made back in his hotel room in Sydney.
“Dinner it is!” Kate answers.
They walk to a nearby pho restaurant and have a healthy Vietnamese dinner. Then they go to a side street bar to have drinks.
“Shots?” Layne asks.
Kate laughs. “Not in the mood for shots tonight. A margarita will do, or two.”
She has three. Layne has four vodka tonics.
Inevitably, they spend the night together in Layne’s hotel room and this time, it is even better than the first time.
Layne stares at Kate’s face while she sleeps. Her hair is tousled. It is longer but still in the stage of in-between. She is fun to be with, she is smart, and she is great in bed. She is everything Layne likes and wants in a woman. He is going to initiate a meet-up in Manila.
He sleeps with a smile, his arms and legs entwined with Kate’s.
He wakes up and she is gone, again. And he realizes she still hadn’t given him her last name, her phone number or any contact details, whatsoever. He lurks around the hotel and streets the next couple of days but he never sees her again. At least, not in Ho Chi Minh City.
Kate
Kate is on her last full day in Ho Chi Minh City in Vietnam. She had visited friends and made a side trip to Hanoi to visit the underground caves. Most of the time, however, she just walked around, drank coffee, and wrote. Everything is great. There is only one issue.
Kate just can’t get the hang of navigating the streets with all the motorbikes around. She usually would cross the street with other people so she can just follow what they did. Unfortunately for her, she is alone on one side of the road and she needs to go to the other side. She is on her way back to her hotel to write and to pack, since she has an early flight the next day.
She takes a deep breath and steps off the curb. And all hell breaks loose, and she finds herself stuck in the middle of the road with motorbikes whizzing past her. She just can’t move. Some actually steer too close to her she almost feels the impact of their passing.
She is starting to panic. Then, she feels someone grab her elbow, and she has no choice but to follow, dodging the motorbikes, until they reach the sidewalk.
“Thank you! I thought I was going to die by motorbike today!” Kate exclaims.
She looks up at the serious face of her savior, who appears ready to admonish her for her stupidity, and then they lock gazes.
Oh my God, it’s him!
“Oh... hey... it’s you...,” the guy says.
Kate recognizes Layne and smiles.
“Layne? Wow, what a lovely coincidence! Thank you for saving me from a humiliating death,” Kate said, her heart beating fast. Sudden images of Layne in his hotel room, with his body, his body, his body...
Layne seems to have read her mind because he sort of blushes. Kate wants to diffuse the obvious tension between the two of them. So she says the first thing that comes to her mind.
“You deserve a treat from me! How about some Vietnamese coffee?”
Layne smiles. “Oh, Kate, you owe me more than just Vietnamese coffee for that act of heroism I did for you,” he says, mischief in his eyes.
Oh God, this man is so sexy! Kate smiles and she sees Layne’s smile spread over his face. She takes his arms and links hers.
“Let’s start with coffee, and work our way from there, okay?”
They walk. They pass one of the most recognized buildings in Vietnam.
“Have you been there?” Layne asks.
“Been where?” Kate asks
Layne points. “That’s the Reunification Palace, the site of the end of the Vietnam War during the Fall of Saigon in 1975. A North Vietnamese army tank crashed through the gate.”
Kate knows the building, and she had been there, for research for the story she was writing. However, for some reason, the words that come out of her mouth are, “Oh, then I should probably go there.”
“Now?” Layne asks quizzically.
“No, not now. Now, I’m having coffee with you,” Kate says, but inwardly, she is thinking about what could come after coffee.
They go to a street café and order Vietnamese coffee. Layne tells her about his work, that he is in Ho Chi Minh for a presentation on the status of their Asia Pacific roll-out for a client.
She tells Layne she is there for research.
“Research for what?”
“I’m a writer,” Kate says. “My latest story is set in Vietnam.”
“You were writing back in Sydney too, right?”
“Yeah, I finished a novel that night. A very memorable night, if I may say so,” the words are out before she can think about the implications. She wants to hide in embarrassment.
But Layne smiles so she just smiles back.
“You know, you nearly died, so I think you deserve dinner, on me!” Layne offers. “And because I saved you from the jaws of the motorbike monster, you can’t say no.”
Kate laughs, knowing that the night is going to be more than just dinner. “Dinner it is!”
They walk to a restaurant, where they ordered pho. Then, they go to a side street bar to have drinks.
“Shots?” Layne asks.
Kate laughs, remembering where three shots of tequila took her the last time they met. “Not in the mood for shots tonight. A margarita will do, or two.”
She ends up having three, while Layne has four vodka tonics.
They walk arm in arm to Layne’s hotel, which is just a few buildings away from Kate’s hotel. They didn’t have to talk about it. They just know. That night, it is even better than the first time.
Kate is breathless afterward. She is also tired, so in spite of herself, she sleeps, her arms and legs entwined with Layne’s. She wakes up suddenly and her face is inches away from Layne’s. He is sleeping as if he is smiling. Those lips, Kate thinks. She can still remember the feeling of Layne’s lips on her mouth, her neck, on her entire body. She feels warm all over.
She traces her fingers along the side of Layne’s lips, and she realizes Layne could be someone she can fall in love with. It’s a good thing he is just another one-night stand.
She gently extricates herself away from Layne’s muscled limbs. She stares at Layne’s naked body on the bed, and it is almost a work of art.
She dresses slowly and lets herself out quietly.
She goes back to her hotel. Thankfully, there are no streets to cross. She packs and leaves for the airport and out of Layne’s life.
Again.
3
The Wall
Layne
The air in Beijing is deceptively clear, although Layne knows it is way past the acceptable pollution index. It is his first time in China, and he takes a full-day tour of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City the day before; now, he is doing the most-anticipated Great Wall of China tour. He surveys t
he people who are with him in the van for the English-speaking tour—a young Indian couple, a German guy in his fifties, a middle-aged mother and her two beautiful daughters from Nigeria, and a married couple from Spain in their forties.
A veritable United Nations, Layne thinks. They are waiting for the guide to come back with the last pickup of the morning. The van picked him up very early, so Layne takes that time to close his eyes for a bit. He is still tired from the trek the day before. Again, he is in Beijing for a series of meetings with a client, but all those meetings have been completed two days before. This is his personal time.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” a voice whispers in his ear. Layne smiles because the voice belonged to Kate, and he is sure he is dreaming of her again. The van lurches forward and his eyes fly open.
And there she is, sitting beside him, her hair now skimming her shoulders, and a large smile on her unmade-up face.
“Kate...,” Layne says, and the moment he said it, he feels the longing well up within him. Not finding her in Vietnam after that night had frustrated him, and he was bothered she had made such an impact on him that he had been thinking about her constantly.
“Did you miss me?” Kate taunts him. “Third time meeting in different places. The universe must be telling us something.”
“What?” Layne asks.
“That we should enjoy this tour today!” Kate laughs when she says it.
“Then?” Layne says this before he can stop himself.
Kate smiles, blushing. “Let’s survive the tour first. I heard it’s going to cause some major body pains.”
“I happen to be a master in giving massages,” Layne says with a naughty smile.
“Oh, you are, aren’t you?” Kate asks, her eyebrows cocked.
“Yes, and the universe is telling you to relax tonight and have a massage and some wine.”
Kate smiles. “We’ll see,” she says.
The tour starts off with the usual tourist trap of a jade store (meaning they are there for only one reason, to purchase souvenirs), then the group had lunch, then the main event, the Great Wall. The trek up the uneven steps is tricky, but Layne makes it to the top, not noticing the dangerous steps because Kate’s hand is in his. He is amazed with Kate, who is surprisingly agile and strong. Kate takes pictures with a sophisticated-looking camera that must weigh a ton. Layne loves to just watch her move.
He smiles when he remembers he called Kate “Selfie Girl” when he saw her first in Sydney.
Kate
It is her last day in Beijing and she had booked herself an English-language group tour of the Great Wall of China—her real objective for the trip. She is the last pickup for the tour, so when she boards the van, it is almost full and she has no choice in terms of where to sit. As she draws nearer to the only empty seat, she feels excitement because the sleeping guy she is going to sit beside looks a lot like Layne, and she had missed him.
Once she is seated, she looks at her seatmate closely and her heart skips a beat when she realizes it is Layne. What are the odds?! Is he a stalker?
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she whispers into his ear. Layne seems to smile in his sleep but then the van lurches forward and his eyes fly open.
He looks around him and sees her.
“Kate...,” Layne says, his voice thick and low. Kate remembers his voice back in the room in Vietnam. He had called out her name when he came and she had liked it.
“Did you miss me?” Kate taunts him. “Third time meeting in different places. The universe must be telling us something.”
‘What?” Layne asks with a smile.
“That we should enjoy this tour today!” Kate laughs when she says it.
“Then?” There is an invitation there, Kate knows.
“Let’s survive the tour first. I heard it’s going to cause some major body pains,” Kate says cheerfully.
“I happen to be a master at giving massages,” Layne smiles. Those lips.
“Oh, you are, are you?” Oh dear, Kate thinks.
“Yes, and the universe is telling you to relax tonight and have a massage and some wine.”
Kate smiles. “We’ll see,” she says. We’ll see? You already know, woman!
The trek up the uneven steps of the wall is murder, but Kate makes it to the top. It helps she is hand in hand with Layne, who is very athletic. He is also quick to help out other people, who needed help up certain steps.
Kate brings “Clunk,” her clunky Canon DSLR camera, which she inherited from her father, and takes pictures. Taking up photography is Number Eight on her bucket list, and this is the first time she is using it to take serious pictures, after completing her online photography courses and tutorials. Her objective is to be able to use a photograph she had taken as the cover of her next novel.
She takes many pictures—of the scenery, of people, and when Layne is not looking, of him.
At one point, Kate reviews the shots she took and focuses on one of Layne, looking out into the beautiful backdrop, his hair blown by the wind. He has a strong profile, his skin already tanning from his tours under the sun. He is tall, with a body he maintains by running and biking—although he admitted he didn’t exercise when he travelled. Kate imagines him on the cover of one of her romance novels, and she knows he won’t be out of place. She sighs.
Kate, what are you doing? She asks herself. She already knows she is going to take up Layne’s offer of a massage tonight. She already knows what would happen after. And she already knows she would need to leave him yet again.
This is becoming harder and harder, every time. The universe is just torturing me, she thinks.
Layne
He starts with a foot massage. Kate’s feet are callused, and she says it is from the time she used to wear heels for her corporate life. As soon as Layne starts kneading into the flesh of her soles, she starts moaning softly—both in pain and relief.
Kate is still in her T-shirt and shorts, and she sits on the couch inside Layne’s hotel room. They had ordered room service, which included a bottle of wine. The bottle is almost empty.
“That feels good, Layne,” Kate purrs.
Layne then works on her ankles, then calves. Layne sits on the ottoman opposite the couch, and he and Kate are face to face, Kate’s feet on his lap.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” Layne asks. This is probably the first real personal question Layne has ever asked her.
Kate frowns initially, then she smiles.
“No.”
“Okay.”
“Girlfriend?” Kate asks.
“No,” Layne answers. Then he continues. “If you had a boyfriend, would you still be here with me?”
“No,” Kate answers, staring into Layne’s eyes.
“Good.”
Layne’s hands are already on her thighs.
“Lie down, face on the couch,” he instructs her.
“Excuse me?” Kate asks suddenly.
“So I can massage your back.”
“Oh.”
Kate lies on the couch with her back to Layne.
“Remove your shirt,” Layne says authoritatively.
“You do it,” Kate challenges back.
Layne smiles. He slowly removes Kate’s shirt while he straddles her. The shirt falls to the floor.
“Just my luck. A sports bra,” Layne whispers audibly.
Kate laughs.
“You’re good, so I’m sure you would be able to work around it.”
Layne’s hands work wonders on Kate’s sore muscles. And he is good. Slowly but surely, the sports bra comes off. So does Kate’s shorts. Then she is completely naked, still lying prone on the couch. Layne’s fingers are applying pressure on her lower back.
Kate groans. Layne knows it is not only because of the massage. He can feel Kate’s anticipation emanate from every fiber of her body.
Layne stops.
“Turn over,” he says.
Layne sees Kate hesitate. She still does as
she is told, albeit with her eyes closed.
Layne straddles her again, his hands are on her shoulders and neck. He kneads every inch of her, except the ones that are begging to be touched. Kate is near tears with anticipation. Layne removes his hands from Kate’s body and stands up from the couch.
He observes Kate frowning, and then opening her eyes. She searches for him and finds him standing over her, naked. He is staring at her intently.
“Kate...,” he whispers hoarsely.
“Layne, please,” Kate pleads, her eyes hungry.
Layne doesn’t wait another second.
Foreplay is over.
Kate
Layne did not lie about his prowess as a masseur, but he is an even bigger master of what happens next. Kate almost cries after it is over. It is that good.
As Layne sleeps, Kate looks up to the ceiling.
I’m in deep shit, she thinks.
4
The Bracelet
Kate
Mumbai traffic is terrible and scary. Kate is assigned a car and driver to use when she leaves the hotel. She is in Mumbai for a writers’ conference, and she is one of the featured speakers. The conference was held in different hotels across the city, but the last day was held in the hotel Kate was staying in.
The conference just finished that afternoon and most of the delegates had left for their home countries. Kate had stayed an extra night so she could get some writing done. She loves the culture and the chaotic bustle that is India. She loves the food and she loves the colorful saris the women wear. She is sad she doesn’t have time to visit the Taj Mahal, but maybe next time, on another trip.
She is at the hotel lounge, when she sees a man in a corner surrounded by people. She walks over to the area and sees that it is an Indian man, in full traditional Indian attire, complete with turban. He is making bracelets. He works fast and methodically, using heat, clay, and colors; and the bracelets he produces are gorgeous—round, hard, with intricate colorful patterns. There is a long queue of people who want their bracelets made. There is no charge, but people are encouraged to donate any amount.