worked for, and where his family was from. Keep in mind Deanna was vacationing in Marrakesh at the time and, even with the seven-hour difference, my aunt knew what they ordered at the restaurant.” I lowered my voice. “The same detective blood flows through my veins.”
Marc laughed. “Are they spying on you now? These aunties of yours?”
“No, because I’m staying with Aunt Evelyn. She’s one of them.”
The server arrived with our meal. On my plate was a dessert crêpe. Slices of banana rested on a lake of Nutella along with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream. Three pom-poms of whipped cream dotted the corners of the golden, folded triangle. Marc had ordered a galette, which had been folded into a square. The savory crêpe’s lacy edges framed a cream sauce with chopped chanterelles and diced smoked ham.
“Which should we eat first?” I asked.
“Dessert, of course. The ice cream will melt otherwise.”
Before I finished dividing the crêpe into two equal parts, my phone rang. Only three people knew my new number: Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Michael, and Ma. I grabbed the phone from my purse and checked the screen. Auntie Faye.
Marc took over and separated the dessert crêpe into two. “Do you need to take it?”
“Yes, I’m sorry.” I answered the call. “Hi, Auntie Faye! I’m surprised to hear from you.”
My aunt tsked. “Ah, Vanessa, you’re not busy, are you?”
“No, not at all.” I mouthed another apology to Marc, who watched me with amusement.
“Linda called asking about Evelyn’s house. I talked to Zeny Chieng, big real estate agent. She’s a client of mine. Zeny tells me that the house went on the market right when you flew out. I went with Zeny and got inside. The house is empty! There’s nothing left. Even her car is gone.”
“You’re saying she planned to move here without telling anyone? Even you didn’t know?”
“No, I thought she was redecorating when she did a furniture purge earlier this year. Your uncle Damon told me about the tea shop expansion, but he mentioned it was complicated. I didn’t ask at the time what he meant, but I’ll invite him to lunch tomorrow.”
“What do you think is going on with her?” I asked.
There was a short pause followed by a sigh. “Evelyn always did her own thing. I still remember how shocked we all were when she left for Paris after college. The evening of her graduation she boarded a plane and was gone! No one knew she was leaving.”
“What was she doing?”
“I don’t know. No one talked about it. I can try and find out, but I can’t guarantee anything. I’ll call you again when I have something. Have fun on your date, Vanessa,” she said with a giggle before hanging up.
“One of your infamous aunties?” Marc asked.
I nodded. “Yes. She’s the equivalent of a Chinese godfather.”
Marc lifted a spoonful of the vanilla ice cream to my lips. I obliged. It melted on my tongue, and the hint of citrus at the end surprised me. “This is really good.”
“I’m pretty sure they make it in house.” He paused. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Sometimes, people keep things quiet for a reason, mostly to prevent collateral damage. Compartmentalizing lets some folks function better than facing whatever it is they’re hiding.”
“Is this your professional opinion?” I joked.
His serious expression faltered when he laughed. “No. My mom is a clinical psychologist. I absorbed a bit of it over the years by proximity.”
“My parents are both accountants, and I ‘absorbed’ that so much that I became one myself.”
Marc heaped a generous portion onto my plate. “Have you thought of doing anything else, or is that what you want to do?”
As a Yu, I was often asked if I was in the tea export business, or the accounting and law firms that supported it. I didn’t mind accounting. I’d been good with the language of numbers without much effort. Like a comfortable dent in the couch, I fit into my job with the ambivalence associated with doing the laundry.
“I like it, but I don’t love it,” I replied. “Do you love your job?”
“I do. It is why I came here. I woke up every morning looking forward to doing what I love. Well, that’s not completely accurate. I’ve had a different and amazing reason to wake up the last few days.”
He lifted a dark brow and stared at me.
I blushed.
Auntie Faye called it a date, but I wouldn’t—couldn’t. Like Cinderella at the ball, we had tomorrow, and then my fairy tale would