MIMI WOKE UP in the hotel suite to watch through the floor-to-ceiling windows as a heavy downpour of snow blanketed the city. While the beautiful sight was comfy viewed from under the thick duvet in the luxurious bed, the empty cool space her hand reached for let her know that she was in the bed alone. Her husband, and what a shock it was to think those words, was no longer creating the body heat that had kept this bed warm all night long.
“Do you want coffee?” Jin’s voice came through the doorway before he did. Bearing a cup and saucer of the hotel’s signature dishware, he rounded the side of the bed and laid it down on the nightstand. It needed no confirmation, one look told her that the cup had just the right amount of milk, as they’d certainly learned over the years something so basic as how one another liked their drinks.
“Thanks.” She sat up and wiped sleep from her eyes.
What Mimi might not have learned yet was how to sleep in the same bed as her husband without experiencing a warm flush pulsing through her body all night long. Yes, she’d shared a bed with Jin before. If she was being honest, it had never been easy to sleep next to the man who inhabited her dreams. But nothing was like being with him in a hotel suite on her wedding night.
Wedding night! With memories of the kiss he gave her at the courthouse that went beyond the conduct this little masquerade they were enacting required.
“Did you sleep well?”
In reality, she was bleary from the long night during which she thought dawn would never come. She didn’t say anything in the dark hours because she didn’t want him to know that she wasn’t able to sleep.
“Maverick Choi is having a party at his showroom tonight. I think Amanda Boswell will be there. I’d like to talk to her.”
Mimi knew Amanda Boswell was one of Jin’s retailers that he needed to keep in good contact with as he wasn’t delivering a collection for this season.
There was Jin, always thinking practically. In a little while, they’d take showers, check out of the hotel and go downtown to the studio to work. He’d sent a memo to LilyZ employees and a simple notice to the press about their marriage and naming Mimi as his designer. Neither of them knew how the news would be perceived. And no one would ever find out what had happened, or hadn’t, in this hotel room on their wedding night.
Jin sat at the side of the bed while she sipped her coffee, perhaps both of them not ready to face the world or its expectations. Inspecting the most handsome profile in all of creation, a gush of sadness washed over Mimi about what her marriage didn’t mean.
When Mamabai had toasted them at the hotel restaurant, she’d spoken of children and Mimi had had to hold her breath not to let any emotion show. Children were always in the future she’d imagined for herself. Although she’d be lying if she said she’d fantasized about the father of those offspring being anyone other than the man beside her now.
Jin reached over to take her cup so that he could have a sip.
Mimi was mesmerized as the swallow produced a bob in the Adam’s apple of his long elegant neck.
Last night, after they’d had champagne and nibbles, there was eventually nothing left to do but go to bed. Jin had offered to sleep on one of the suite’s couches, as they’d agreed it would be most appropriate for the two old friends who had just made a deal to serve everyone’s interest.
They’d said their good-nights and Mimi had gone to bed, although she hadn’t closed the door separating the living area from the bedroom. She’d seen no reason to.
As soon as she’d lain down on the bed anguish came over her and the brave face she’d worn all day crumbled. Would she ever have a real wedding night? Fall into the arms of the man who would be her cohort in triumph and in struggle? A partner to satisfy the passion that she kept bottled up inside? With whom she might fulfill her wish of having children? Who she’d have to lie to and never tell him about the man downtown who held her heart in his large hands?
She wasn’t sure exactly why last night Jin had brought up that cabin in the Adirondacks from oh, so long ago. Maybe he’d remembered that weekend as she did, as the one time something physical beyond friendship almost transpired between them.
Throughout the years, Mimi had wondered about that night, lying by the fireplace with her head on Jin’s toned stomach. If she had wiggled up to his face and given him a kiss would she have been refused? She could have never withstood the embarrassment of the rejection if it had come.
There was something in the air that evening, but she’d never know if he felt it, too.
Either way, it would have changed the dynamic between them forever. Thank heavens she hadn’t acted on the impulse, to bring her parted lips to his for a kiss. She’d pictured him taking her into his strong embrace, within the wingspan of his broad shoulders. Maybe rolling her over to lie on her back where he’d get on top of her, as they learned the few things left that they didn’t already know about each other.
Wisely, she had done nothing of the sort that night. She knew it was too great a chance to take. That while she and Jin might have succumbed to the moment, there was too much potential for agony in the morning. Yet that night after he’d fallen asleep, in the cabin’s rustic bathroom mirror, she’d watched as the tears streamed down her face.
She needed to remember that pain. As this year passed, Mimi had to make sure she had some of herself still left at the end, that her feelings for the man she couldn’t have didn’t eat her alive. Because she had to believe that someday she’d meet a different man, who might want to be with her forever. For her, not just for a business agreement.
Last night, just after she’d had those thoughts during the twenty minutes or so of silence in the large suite, Jin had padded into the bedroom. “Are you still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“The sofas are too soft. Can I sleep with you?”
“Of course.”
Mimi had moved sideways from the center of the bed, leaving Jin half of the pile of overstuffed pillows. The room was pitch-black but as he slid under the covers, she’d felt that signature Jin heat that she’d recognize anywhere.
They’d rested quietly beside each other on the bed. Finally, Jin had reached for her and they’d hugged. As honorary brother and sister. As two old pals.
“If we’re going to be convincing as a married couple,” Jin had said while she was still within the envelope of his arms, “we should learn everything about each other and not have any secrets. Tell me something about you that I don’t already know.”
Mimi froze.
Should she tell him who she’d voted for in the last political election? No, he already knew.
About how scared she was when during college she’d fallen forward on a crack in the sidewalk and hurt her wrist? Nope, because Jin was the one who took her to get an X-ray and talk to a doctor.
Something deeper? An honest discussion about their beliefs and values? No. They already knew how the other felt.
As far as Mimi was concerned, there was only one fact about her that Jin didn’t know. The thing she could never tell. Because it was about him.
Was there ever a bigger irony than that he had asked that question on their wedding night?
“My shoes were killing me at the courthouse today.” That was all she was going to give him.
“Thank you again for doing this,” he’d said after several quiet beats during which he’d probably intuited that she didn’t want to be grilled at that moment. They really did understand each other in a lot of ways. “And thank you for caring about my mom so much.”
“What you went through with Helene was such a disappointment for her.”
“I feel like I let her down.”
“You met Helene. You fell in love. The way she treated you wasn’t your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have married her.” His fingertips had caressed Mimi’s shoulder as his voice dropped even lower than usual. “I’m going to tell you something I never have. Looking back, I wasn’t in love with Helene. I’ve never been in love.”
The words tolled in Mimi’s head as she’d lain silent, buying extra time to process the information.
Jin hadn’t been in love with his wife.
He’d never been in love.
That cold fact had rushed through Mimi’s veins like ice water.
“Why…” she’d stammered, so grateful they were lying in the dark so he couldn’t see the shock that no doubt blanketed her face, not wanting to miss her chance to get him to answer. “Why did you marry her?”
The hand that had been on her shoulder made one long sweep down her back and pulled away, leaving her starving for its return. “She was a high-energy girl. Kinetic. There was a vortex around her. I got swept up in the excitement for a New York minute. You know there wasn’t much fun going on in my house.”
“Did you think that you loved her?” Mimi couldn’t help asking. He’d never mentioned this before. Was he telling her because she was his wife and somehow entitled to know?
No. That he hadn’t loved Helene had no connection to the current situation. No impact on the decisions that had just been made. Didn’t change anything about Jin.
Yet the news had enthralled her.
She’d cautioned herself not to think anything foolish, like his admission might make him receptive to a genuine love if he fell into it. Even if that was the case, it still had no bearing on Mimi’s life. She was just his best friend’s sister. His friendly caresses would always be pulled away before they could be misconstrued.
“Love is not in my cards,” Jin had said, not directly answering her question. “Look what it got my mother. Nothing but heartache. And your father? Having to watch the love of his life die. It killed him in less than a year.”
That was the truth. Benjamin couldn’t live without his Delia. After she had died, he’d stopped eating. Sleeping. Smiling. He suffered a massive stroke ten months after she passed away and died within days. In losing their mother, Mimi and Aaron lost both of their parents. That was everlasting love at its most brutal.
Jin had moved on the bed after his admission, farther away from her so they were not touching at any point.
He’d reiterated, “I never want to be in love.” Mimi hoped Jin would remind her of that frequently. It would hurt less every time.
* * *
Fortunately it was still early when Jin and Mimi arrived at the studio, so there wasn’t a full staff of employees that they were going to have to do their fake marriage dog and pony show for. The staff who were there worked quietly at the machines in the front of the studio, nodding their respect to Jin’s authority. Several of them offered quiet congratulations to him and his new wife. Then went right back to their tasks.
The Zhangs went back to Jin’s office area to see if they could make a little professional magic as they surely weren’t making any personally.
Jin sorted through anything urgent that had come in the day before, after he’d left work early to get married.
He then pulled out a photo album from a drawer in a cabinet. He glided a hand across the cover as if to give it love.
“Here’s what we reference,” Jin said as he opened the album and looked at the first page. “Shun’s collection thirty years ago. Office attire reimagined.”
They had spoken of updating this particular theme that Shun himself had revisited over the years. Creating a uniform for a woman that was appropriate for any occasion while still being polished and comfortable. With the careful manufacturing and impeccable tailoring Shun insisted on, women had found LilyZ and stuck with it for decades. Customers said that they wore LilyZ for their entire lives, even passing on treasured pieces to their daughters and granddaughters. Nothing made Jin happier than hearing that.
“I want to do one jacket, two types of pants and two skirts.” Jin confirmed what he and Mimi had already talked about and done some preliminary sketching on.
“Six blouses, but just to show the retailers we can probably get by with three for now,” she added.
“I like this twill I showed you the other day,” he said as he pulled one of the fabric bolts over. The other day. Before they were married. Married!
Mimi took hold of it and gave it a long rub between her fingers. “It won’t look fresh all day.”
“It’s durable.”
Mimi insisted, “Jin, I don’t like it. Plain and simple.”
“Listen to you, boss lady.”
She chuckled. “What else have you got?”
They looked at some swatches that Jin had ordered.
“Now this I like. Stretch corduroy, cotton with a bit of spandex.”
“Black? Gray?”
“That’s ordinary. How about maroon?”
Jin blew out some air. “Maroon. That’s radical.”
“It’s a new neutral. Makes a statement. Looks good on everyone.”
“This.” Jin called her attention to some of the photos in the album. “We have these pieces in storage.”
“Okay, but details like here—” she pointed to the waistband and pockets on one of the skirts “—are too fussy.”
“Show me what you want to do.”
Mimi grabbed the drawings they’d started and made refinements.
“I hate it.”
“Why?”
They hovered over the drawings, their bodies grazing along one side. Mimi knew this feeling well, collaborating with Jin when they got so involved in what they were doing the world melted away. They were on a creative high. It was exhilarating. Was she imagining it or was he leaning into her even more than he usually did?
“When you take that leather pocket detail away, you’re left without interest around the hips.”
“Leather makes no sense,” she argued.
“It needs something,” he barked.
“A woman’s body fills out the interest, as you call it.”
Jin turned his head to glare into Mimi’s eyes, as if he was suddenly angry. He moved the slightest bit away from her, enough for her to notice the air between them.
The dynamic had changed. It was no longer Jin with all of the expertise and Mimi looking up to every word he uttered. If she was LilyZ’s designer now, she’d have to fight for what she thought was right, even if he disagreed. Which he clearly had. Why else would he have stepped away from her? Or was something else at play?
In a flash, he moved very far away, busying himself at his desk.
Things had gotten awkward, quickly.
“Jin?” After all, this was Mimi here. His friend. Who he could talk to.
Finally, his stare returned to her eyes again.
He considered his words. “I did something wrong and I want to be absolutely clear with you.”
Did he think she was upset because they’d argued about the design detail?
“Uh-huh?”
“After the wedding ceremony, with my mom so delighted and the whole mood of everything…”
“Uh-huh?”
“I know that I kissed you in a way that was inappropriate. I got caught up in the moment and lost control. I owe you better than that. I’ll watch myself more carefully. You have my promise nothing like that will ever happen again.”
“Of course,” she replied in the tiny voice, calling on the composure it had taken her thirteen years to achieve. That she finally believed was convincing. The blank wash to her face that had to wait, just like that cabin mirror so many years ago, for her to get to a place where she could let her heartache pour out.
* * *
A runway model stretched out her arms to show off her diaphanous oversized white mini dress. It hung off her slim shoulders and was as short in length as it could be while still legal. “Jin, I heard you got married. I thought you were saving yourself for me.”
“Sorry, Girara.” Jin stepped back from her, turning to Mimi who was on the other side of him. “Please meet my wife, Mimi Stewart.”
“Didn’t you get a catch?” the model said after blowing an air kiss to each of Mimi’s cheeks.
“Indeed I did.” Mimi made a big gesture of slipping her arm through Jin’s. She was used to seeing Jin being flirted with, hunted even, by beautiful women. No one could blame any of them for taking their shot. He was an incredibly good-looking man with scruples and business smarts. Why wouldn’t they want to be with him?
“Congratulations!” Amanda Boswell approached the circle as Girara blew away. She was a LilyZ retailer and the main reason Jin had wanted to come to Maverick Choi’s showing. Probably a former model herself, Amanda stood about six feet tall and was about eighty years old. She wore a white fedora hat, a colorful kimono covering a black turtleneck, and black pants with bright blue patent leather loafers. Fashion run riot, Mimi thought while smiling gamely.
“I’m delighted to meet you.” Mimi jumped in. Jin had briefed her on who was going to be in attendance.
Mimi looked past Amanda to survey the scene. Rather than a runway, designer Maverick Choi had his models walking around the showroom parading his latest looks, even inviting guests to touch the clothing if they so desired. Green-haired Choi, working a schoolboy nerd outfit with plaid pants, stood in a corner holding court.
There was some kind of cotton candy theme to the event. Pastel-colored balloons that floated all over the floor were clumsy, forcing people to kick them out of the way to get where they were going. Columns of other balloons hung from ribbons attached to the ceiling.
Waiters dressed in orange tuxedos passed around pink cocktails, each with a rainbow-hued candy stick in them as a straw. It was a mostly well-executed concept that fit with the angelic clothes.
With Mimi’s arm still through Jin’s she mentally flashed on how they appeared to other party guests, who would have no reason to guess that the newlyweds were not really together. The media had reported impartially on Jin’s news that he had recently married and named his wife as his new designer. Things were proceeding according to plan.
As they worked their way around the room with hellos and introductions, Mimi never let go of Jin’s bicep, hard and solid under his suit jacket. She let her eyes travel sideways and upward to his straight lips. Those same lips that had kissed her for too long at the courthouse after they were pronounced man and wife. Mimi would never find out if any of the imaginings she’d had about what those lips could do were accurate. Jin had made that explicitly clear earlier today by calling his matrimonial kiss a mistake.
“You’re doing great. What’s the matter?” Jin bent down to whisper in her ear, sensing her unease. “Everyone has been wishing us well. Even if they’re surprised I got married, they’re never going to know why I did.”
She couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t the party guests that were causing her discomfort. No, as her rib cage expanded more than it should with each breath, it was that she was doubting her ability to pretend at something she’d spent thirteen years reminding herself that she could never have.
“I’m fine,” she said, covering. “Just getting used to it all.”
Mimi needed to focus on company business. Even before this phony marriage, she and Aaron had been a sounding board for Jin. She knew a lot about LilyZ’s history and exactly what should, and shouldn’t, be discussed in a professional setting. She handled herself competently.
As a matter of fact, while Jin was called away by Amanda Boswell, Mimi entered into a conversation with a flashy French photographer clad head to toe in denim, probably twenty years older than her. He had a sarcastic take on the industry that made Mimi laugh.
Like laser beams shooting through her, she suddenly sensed Jin’s eyes from across the room. He removed himself from the conversation he was having and made a straight line toward her, kicking away the balloons on the floor with annoyance.
“Jin, do you know Marc-Claude Robar?” she asked by way of introduction. “This is my…husband, Jin Zhang.”
“Ah! You charlatan! You’ve entranced me only to tell me that you won’t be mine,” Marc-Claude said, pretending insult at Mimi. He turned to Jin and gave him an exaggerated handshake. “You are a very lucky man, monsieur.”
“I know,” Jin replied, grabbing Mimi by the arm and leading her away. “If you’ll excuse us.”
Jin was clearly upset. Could he have been angry that she was talking to Marc-Claude? Why would he care who she did, and didn’t, chat with? Although the older man was flirting with her, Mimi was not returning the advance. She’d merely been schmoozing. It wasn’t as if Jin could be thinking she was acting improperly in her role as wife. And he couldn’t have been genuinely jealous, because why would he care one way or another who she spoke with?
“What’s wrong?” she asked after Jin ushered her into a taxi.
“Nothing,” he clipped out unconvincingly, and peered out the cab window the entire ride home. Mimi leaned her head back on the seat. As well as she knew Jin, she didn’t know his every trigger, wasn’t familiar with every single thing that would please or displease him. They had some learning to do. She’d let this one go.
When they got home, Jin undid the knot in his tie. With a yank, he pulled it out from under his shirt collar. A motion millions of men made all of the time. But when Jin did it, Mimi’s knees bobbled.
“You’ll take my room,” he said as he peeled off his jacket and slung it over one of the dining table chairs. What he meant by my room was the master bedroom that his parents used when he was growing up, that he later shared with Helene during their marriage and where he had been sleeping alone after his divorce.
“You’re going to use your old bedroom?” Mimi gestured her head in the direction of the two other bedrooms in the large apartment. One had been a guest room and the other was Jin’s as a boy.
“I sent a courier to Aaron’s to get your things.” Jin pointed to the suitcases in the hallway. Grabbing several of them, he left only the lighter items for Mimi. With her following him, they entered the master suite.
Mimi eyeballed the bed. When Jin had ended things with Helene, Mimi remembered him talking about going from sleeping on one side of the bed to the middle like he did when he was single. How awful that had felt to him. Like a defeat, he’d said.
Mimi had experienced something similar going from Gunnar’s ultraexpensive bed to Aaron’s lumpy sofa.
She had expected to wear a big fat diamond ring courtesy of Gunnar Nilsson. Raised in Stockholm, the wiry blond never ceased to remind Mimi how lucky she was that he chose her to be a junior designer for his label. That should have been a warning sign right away that he was self-centered and controlling.
Their work together had included long hours at his studio that, when they were alone, had turned into middle-of-the-night erotic encounters with the famous and commanding man. Mimi had begun envisioning a future with him, full of success. Through him, she’d hoped to leave behind the shackles she wore for Jin that served her no purpose. Especially after Jin married Helene.
Swept into the domestic and professional bliss she’d thought she was living in, it took Mimi a while to realize that she wasn’t happy. Gunnar had a huge ego that needed constant feeding. He was moody, turning from seemingly content to snappy and critical.
At his shop, he’d referred to Mimi’s designs as their babies, even ones he’d had no part in. When he’d begun to take full credit for her work, reality had sunk in. Gunnar didn’t care about her. Nor did she for him. She’d been trying to invent something with Gunnar to quell the constant longing for Jin that had defined her. She wanted a happy marriage like her parents had had and because she couldn’t have it with Jin, she’d tried to find it elsewhere.
But no one broke up with Gunnar Nilsson! Civility at work was out of the question. He’d ridiculed Mimi until she was in tears every morning, dreading having to see him. Finally, unable to handle it, she’d quit. With no money in the bank, she’d landed on her brother’s sofa. Until now. Now she faced Jin’s king-sized bed.
“I bought all new bedding for you,” Jin said as he put her suitcases down. “If you don’t like it, I’ll have my housekeeper change it.”
“No, that’s very nice,” Mimi said as she took note of the sheets and blankets in what Jin knew was her favorite color, purple.
“You can do whatever you want with the room. Are you cooking with my mom on Saturday for Lunar New Year?” Chinese New Year celebrations were an annual tradition for them.
“Of course.”
“When she comes over, we’ll have to make it look like we’re both living in the same room or she might get suspicious.”
Right. Mimi nodded. Outside of this apartment, the world was supposed to think that Jin and Mimi were a typical married couple. Who would, naturally, share a bed. It was only behind closed doors that she and Jin would know what was to really go on here at night.
Nothing.