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A few weeks later, Lana and Cindy sat at an outdoor café in Shanghai’s historic French Concession. Since meeting, the two had seen each other three to four times a week. Lana enjoyed having friends like Amy and Cindy: outgoing, professional women with enviable careers.
Cindy gently sipped tea and nibbled a pastry, while Lana ravenously gulped coffee and wolfed down a sandwich.
“How was your event the other night?”
Lana shrugged. “Okay. Typical, like the one we were at a few weeks ago.”
“Does your company pay?”
“Never, which is tough because I’m up to my ears in debt.”
Cindy nodded.
“Besides, I meet better people in less contrived situations.”
Cindy abruptly changed the subject. “Lana, I know you don’t have a boyfriend —”
“Nope, no boyfriend.”
“What about that guy you mentioned last week?”
“Daniel?” Lana laughed, “He doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a screwball and a player.”
“I bet you’re holding a torch for someone from school, right?”
“Not at all, why on earth would you think that?”
“So what’s your type?”
Lana sighed and said, “I don’t have one.”
“C’mon, everyone has a type.”
Lana thought for a second and then declared, “Folks who give me plenty of space.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep, I’m very independent.”
“That’s not good,” Cindy responded.
“Why?”
“Because men like to be in charge and want someone who is nurturing.”
Lana shrugged and said flippantly, “That’s not my problem.”
“So you wear the pants in relationships!” Cindy exclaimed.
“Yep, it’s my way or the highway.”
Cindy laughed. “You sound like a feminist.”
“I don’t like labels.”
Cindy nodded and said, “Feminism aside, I love cooking, especially for my boyfriend. You and Amy should come over sometime for dinner, soon.”
Lana smiled appreciatively and to be polite said, “I heard Amy mention you’ve got a boyfriend in Hong Kong.”
“Yes,” Cindy responded enthusiastically, “but our relationship is complicated.”
“Cool, at least it’s not boring,” Lana remarked, but she now looked very bored.