The Scottish Banker of Surabaya - By Ian Hamilton Page 0,111

up to?”

“I’m getting ready for a run.”

“Where are you staying?”

“The Mandarin Oriental in Central.”

“Do you have plans for lunch?”

“Not yet.”

“How about meeting me? I stayed at the apartment last night, so I’m close to the Oriental. I could walk down for dim sum.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“What time works for you?”

“I should be finished my run and back here by eleven. How’s eleven thirty?”

“That works. I’m planning on coming alone — no Michael. I hope that isn’t a disappointment.”

“Truthfully I’d rather it be that way. I’ve been seeing too many men on this trip.”

“Good. I’ll see you at eleven thirty,” Amanda said, and then hesitated as if she wanted to add something.

Ava waited for a second and then said, “Look, I’d better go if I’m to get my run in.”

She caught the MTR in Central and rode it to the Causeway Bay station. It was the last gasp of rush hour and the trains were still jammed. In her shorts and T-shirt, Ava drew a few stares. More than normal, she thought, and then just as quickly wondered if she was being overly sensitive to the attention.

The weather was perfect for a run, the temperature in the low twenties, a light breeze coming in from the bay. Victoria Park was mercifully quiet; the early morning crowd had finished with their tai chi and their group exercise classes and had retreated to the apartment towers and office buildings that circled it. The inner jogging track was six hundred metres around. Most of the time when Ava came to the park, she was forced to walk as often as run. This morning it offered a clear path and she took advantage of it, putting in eight quick laps, until her thighs felt like rubber, her breath came in gasps, and sweat flew off her body.

She took the train back to the hotel, the other passengers giving her a wide berth as the sweat kept pouring off her. By the time she walked into the Mandarin lobby, she had cooled off, and as soon as she was in her room she hit the shower.

She dressed in the clothes she had worn the night before: black linen slacks and the blue Brooks Brothers shirt. She fastened her hair back with the ivory chignon pin and then stared down at the green jade cufflinks that sat on her dresser. She hadn’t worn them the night before, almost subconsciously avoiding them. Now she reached for them.

The two women had last seen each other the day before Ava went to Macau to invade the house in which Michael’s partner was being held captive. They had communicated only by email since, and as Ava rode the elevator down to the lobby she wondered what changes the past few months had wrought in Amanda.

Ava saw her first, standing by the concierge desk, as slim as ever. She wore black Versace jeans, her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and there wasn’t a trace of makeup on her face. When she saw Ava, she held out her arms and ran towards her. Ava was taken aback by the display of emotion and recoiled ever so slightly. That didn’t deter Amanda, who wrapped her arms around Ava and hugged her with more force than Ava thought that slight body could generate.

“I’m so happy to see you!” Amanda said.

“Me too.”

“How is your leg?”

“Like new, except for the scar.”

They walked together to the elevator for the ride up to Man Wah. “My father sends his regards,” said Amanda.

“And how is Jack?”

“Happy as can be. He’s already talking about having grandchildren, even though he wants me to take over more and more of the business. I don’t think he sees the conflict there.”

“And how does Michael feel about both those things — children and your career?”

“I don’t think he’s ready to start a family, and truthfully neither am I. We both still have some figuring out to do.”

Michael more than you, Ava thought as she said, “Not everyone is cut out to be a parent.”

They were just ahead of the lunchtime crowd and were able to get a table near the window. As the waiter poured jasmine tea, Ava scanned the menu and felt her appetite kick in almost at once. “I do like this place,” she said.

Amanda looked around the restaurant. “It hasn’t changed in years. This is the restaurant my father used to take me to on special occasions. I have so many good memories of it.”

“Is there anything in particular you’d like

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