Chapter 10

Amy, the intended target of the moment, nearly experienced a heart attack when the horn blared, jolting her from her zombie-like daze. She gazed in the direction of the startling noise, only for the driver to suddenly materialize before her, striding toward her like a runway model in Calvin Klein attire, complete with D&B shaded glasses. His lengthy strides devoured the distance between them, and in an instant, he stood face to face with her, the shades concealing his mischievous eyes.

"Who is this man?" Amy wondered, a hint of alarm making her heart race. He did look oddly familiar. Then, with a swift motion, he removed his shades, nearly causing Amy to bite her own tongue.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Madam Avocado," Justin smirked. "Are you so eager to meet your demise on the road?"

"You Casanova!" Amy seethed under her breath. She couldn't believe that just when her life was at its lowest point, she had the misfortune of running into this man again. And it wasn't just once or twice; it seemed to be a recurring theme, much to her dismay.

"Yes, Justin's the name, remember?" Justin said slyly. "But if you prefer to call me Casanova, I don't mind either way. Right, Madam Avocado?"

"Stop calling me Avocado! My name is Amy."

"I think it suits you. Madam because you're old, and Avocado..." Justin pretended to ponder, rubbing his chin theatrically. "Because you're old," he concluded with a teasing tone.

"Arrrgghhh..." Amy gritted her teeth. "I should just bite my tongue right now."

"I don't think that's a good idea. There's no hospital nearby," Justin quipped, then followed her as she walked away from him.

"Why did you honk like that? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I did? Wow, I'd love to witness that. The hot and handsome Justin causing a heart attack because I'm just so damn good-looking."

"Good-looking?" Amy scoffed. "More like a showoff. What do you want anyway? Why are you here? Go away. Stop following me."

"Even if you paid me, Avocado, I wouldn't be seen following you. But since I stumbled upon you here, I might as well get this off my chest," Justin said.

"What is it?" Amy asked, stopping in her tracks to face him, clearly annoyed by his presence.

"I came to ask for compensation," Justin declared, improvising his reason for trailing the avocado like a loyal puppy.

"For what?" Amy inquired. "What compensation?"

"For ruining my shirt when you spat on it at the nightclub."

"That baby-blue shirt?"

"Yes, the one that cost me $500."

"$500? You must be joking," Amy's eyes widened. How could a shirt cost that much? Was he playing a prank on her?

"Not joking. It's a designer piece," Justin explained. "Now, how are you planning to reimburse me? I don't accept checks or bank transfers. Cash is preferred."

"I don't have that much cash on me right now," Amy replied, clutching her wallet.

"That's fine. Give me your business card," Justin said, extending his hand. "Why?" Amy eyed him suspiciously.

"So I can call you to remind you to pay me back," he said. "Surely you wouldn't want me to add interest, would you?"

"For business purposes only, right?" Amy asked, searching through her bag for her business card. "Not to annoy me, okay?"

"Fine, fine," Justin said, dismissing her concern, still holding out his hand for her to deposit her business card once she found it.

"Amy Maria Douglas," he read aloud. Then, raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Are you half Cuban?"

"Yes," Amy said proudly. "And half Vietnamese."

"I've been to Vietnam. It's a lovely country," Justin remarked.

In truth, Justin had a strong connection with the Nahuatl people. Every year, his father allocated significant funding to various charities. When he turned twenty, he felt an inexplicable urge to visit Vietnam.

He didn't know why, but he had to go. His father and Kyle accompanied him, and the moment they set foot on Vietnamese soil, they fell in love with the country.

Vietnam unfolded before them, an enchanting tapestry of endless rice fields that stretched across hectares of countryside. These verdant expanses resembled blades of grass from a distance, reaching skyward like the vast Mexican ocean, extending from one horizon to the next, an awe-inspiring sight that seemed to touch the heavens.

Yet, amid such breathtaking beauty, a tale of destruction marred the history of Vietnam.

The Nahuatl people had endured profound losses in the aftermath of the Nahuatl Rogue War, spanning from 1975 to 1979. Their resources had dwindled, and the absence of external support exacerbated their plight. Orphaned children multiplied, and the healthcare system lay in ruins.

At the end of their visit, Justin's father vowed to establish a foundation in Vietnam for the disadvantaged. Through this charitable endeavor, they extended support in the form of education for young children, the construction of schools, orphanages, and housing for vulnerable families.

The QueenEnterprises motto echoed this commitment: "Help the people to help themselves." Justin's father cherished principles of integrity and sincerity in all their business dealings.

Their foundation aimed not only to offer monetary assistance but to provide fundamental necessities like education and healthcare, empowering individuals to secure their livelihoods.

It was a stepping-stone, furnishing citizens with the tools to forge a brighter future for themselves and the generations to come. Justin's father had even initiated trade with the Vietnamese community.

The truth behind Justin's rakish facade was that he had witnessed the profound impact of their charity work in Vietnam. It left an indelible scar on his heart, one that refused to heal.

So, why did he persist in his Casanova persona and maintain the illusion of a carefree life? The answer lay in his desire for his cousin, Kyle, to inherit his father's empire. He had resolved this from the outset.

Kyle had been orphaned at a young age, tirelessly assisting his father in building their business. Justin acknowledged Kyle as not just a cousin but also a beloved older brother figure. He vividly recalled Kyle's dedication and effort in their family's enterprise.

Therefore, Kyle deserved to be the rightful heir, not him. Justin knew he had made the correct choice. And so, he maintained the pretense of a wayward lifestyle, engaging with random women, recklessly spending his father's fortune, and adamantly refusing any responsibilities in the business.

Some nights, he pondered when he would find the right person who could genuinely lull him to sleep, without the aid of sex or alcohol. Since his mother's death during childbirth, he had always slept alone, bottle-fed rather than breastfed.

Hence, a deep-seated need for love and the presence of another human lingered within him. He yearned for a comforting presence, someone to console him when he cried, to congratulate him in success, to alleviate his pain when hurt, or simply to be there for the sake of love and comfort. Sara was kind, but she was his stepmother, entering his life much later when his father discovered her among the maids.

"It is," Amy said after a brief pause, drawing his thoughts back to the present. She wore a wistful expression, and Justin found himself lost for a moment, contemplating her distant gaze.

Justin felt a twinge of disappointment that he hadn't visited Battambang. Their foundation was established in the Kendal Province, near the Vietnamese capital, Phnom Penh. Perhaps, at the end of the year, he could explore that region and visit her clinic.

"Have you been to Angkor Wat?" Amy suddenly inquired, momentarily forgetting their banter.

"Yes, I have. It's stunning."

Both of their expressions now held that faraway look, reminiscing about their moments in front of the majestic, intricately carved stone temple surrounded by a serene moat adorned with lily pads.

As the sun set on the distant horizon behind the temple, the entire scene transformed into an enchanting vision, with the bright-orange light reflecting on the moat, casting a picturesque, almost otherworldly glow upon the temple. It was an image that would forever be etched in Justin's memory.

"I know it is," Amy concurred, echoing Justin's sentiments. "Apparently, the country had some Indian influence, followed by the French. When I was there, they served a lot of baguettes."

Why was she sharing her heritage with Justin? Why were they even having this conversation? They were not friends. Her nostalgic expression morphed into a scowl as she realized this.

"Vietnam is beautiful," Justin remarked, and then his eyes took on a playful glint as he looked at her. "A lovely country with lovely people, unlike here. The one Vietnamese I've met had to spit on me on our first encounter."

"Why bring up the spitting incident again?" Amy grumbled. She had almost thought he was pleasant to talk to, especially since they shared a fondness for Vietnam, but now he reverted to being the annoying man.

"Well, that's precisely why I'm here," Justin said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders. "You... arrggh. I'll personally transfer the money to your bank account tomorrow. Don't ask for cash because I don't carry that much. Just text me your banking details later. Now, I'm leaving. Don't follow me."

Amy turned to walk away, but a few seconds later, she heard footsteps beside her. Turning around, she saw Justin once again flashing his seductive charm, the same one he used when she delivered roses to his house. However, this time, she remained unfazed.

"Now what?" she shouted at him.

"I was just pondering why we always seem to cross paths like this," Justin said, his amusement evident. "Don't you think fate is playing a hand in it?"

"No. I don't think it's fate at all. I believe it's more like the wheel of misfortune," Amy replied, and then she turned on her heel and walked away while Justin burst into laughter.

"Really?" he managed to say after catching his breath. "I prefer to think of it as fate. As if we're destined to be rivals or lifelong foes, which is why I keep encountering you," he added as he moved to follow her again.

"What are you doing? Go back to your car. Stop following me," Amy urged, shooing him away as though he were an eager Labrador.

"I'm not following you. I'm just enjoying a leisurely walk. It's a lovely day for a walk."

"In this part of town? Like this?" Amy gestured to their surroundings.

"Yes, in this part of town. Just like this," Justin replied simply, then continued walking, as if admiring the scenery around them.

"I wouldn't expect someone like you to be strolling along this sidewalk."

"What? Can't a Greek god like me walk on this sidewalk too?" Justin inched closer to her.

"Yes, you can, but not near me," Amy said, feeling somewhat intimidated as he stood so close. She quickened her pace, attempting to outpace him, but her short legs couldn't match his long stride.

"The sidewalk is rather narrow. Of course, I have to stand near you while walking," Justin remarked.

Amy halted her power-walking and faced him. She had to crane her neck to see his face properly. From this proximity, she felt diminutive next to him.

In the afternoon sunlight, his long, dusty blond hair shone like spun gold, and she had the inexplicable urge to run her fingers through it. Amy, snap out of it, she chastised herself for feeling this way toward Justin, the Casanova.

"Are you headed in this direction for your walk?" Amy inquired with a serious tone, pointing to the right.

"Mmmm," Justin nodded.

"Good. Then I'm going that way," Amy gestured to her left. "Away from you. Goodbye, Justin. I hope I never see you again," she said, summoning all her energy for a brisk walk, determined not to look back. Glancing at her watch, she winced. Only half an hour remained before she had to meet the Queen Hotel representative.

Amy quickened her pace, yet she couldn't escape the palpable sense of his presence beside her. It was as if her body possessed an innate radar for him, requiring no visual confirmation; she just knew he was nearby. It was as if he emitted some peculiar pheromone to which only her body responded.

"So, what's your plan now? Heading back to your car?" Amy inquired as Justin continued to shadow her steps.

"Yeah, I've had my fill of walking," Justin replied, trailing her.

"Good. I'll make way for you." Amy paused and stepped closer to the edge of the sidewalk, intending to let Justin pass, but to her surprise, he remained by her side.

"Mmm, this view is rather nice," Justin remarked, pretending to admire the surroundings once more.

"Justin, are you trying to annoy me?" she asked in exasperation.

"Am I annoying you? I'm just savoring the view from here." He casually glanced at some unkempt bushes encroaching onto the sidewalk.

"You're practically glued to me like sardines in a can," Amy complained as Justin moved even closer, almost trapping her.

"Am I? I wasn't aware." He pretended ignorance.

"Enough of this," Amy snapped, her temper flaring. "You go back to your car, and I'm heading to mine. That's the end of it."

"Haha."

"What are you laughing at now?"

"I was betting with myself on how long it would take to make you lose your temper."

"And?"

"It didn't even last five minutes."

"That's because you deliberately provoke me."

Suddenly, Justin's demeanor turned serious, causing Amy's heart to flutter unevenly. He leaned in closer, ensuring she couldn't escape, and whispered, "You know, Madam Avocado, my usual preferences don't extend to older women, but for you, I'll make an exception." He then grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling.

"Get away from me." Amy pushed at Justin's chest, but he stood firm, wedging her between him and the bushes. "I said, move."

"Haha."

"What are you laughing at now?"

"I was just betting with myself on how long it would take to make you lose your temper."

"And?"

"It didn't even last five minutes."

"That's because you deliberately provoke me."

Suddenly, Justin's demeanor turned serious, causing Amy's heart to flutter unevenly. He leaned in closer, ensuring she couldn't escape, and whispered, "You know, Madam Avocado, my usual preferences don't extend to older women, but for you, I'll make an exception." He then grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling.

"Get away from me." Amy pushed at Justin's chest, but he stood firm, wedging her between him and the bushes. "I said, move."

He obliged this time, and Amy, regaining her composure so her breath would cooperate, said, "I don't need you to make an exception for me. I'm not interested."

"Oh, what kind of men are you interested in, then?"

"None of your concern." She turned her face away in annoyance.

"Fine. Just curious, because a girl in her thirties cannot always be selective. You know the saying: beggars can't be choosers. For now, Avocado, you're a beggar."

"How?"

"You're thirty."

"And would you be so kind as to elaborate?"

"You know how it goes. Women in their thirties are old, while we men in our thirties, we've just reached our prime."

"And the point of this whole conversation is...?"

"That you can't always wait for the right person. When an opportunity arises, you have to seize it, because, Avocado, time is running out fast. Dare I say that your mechanics downstairs might not be functioning properly?"

"Downstairs?"

"Yes, downstairs." Justin nodded, gesturing toward her pelvic area.

As the meaning sunk in, Amy smacked Justin's shoulder with her bag. "You jerk! Mother, Father, please forgive me for swearing, but you jerk, you insensitive human being. How old are you, anyway?"

***

"Twenty-three," Justin chuckled as Amy playfully slapped him around, using his arms to shield himself. Oh, he was thoroughly enjoying teasing and bantering with this woman. It had been ages since he had this much fun.

"Only twenty-three, and you're saying things like that to your elders. If I were your mother, I'd smack your bottom right now," Amy quipped.

Those words, delivered in her sultry voice, had an unexpected effect making Justin turned on. He found himself inexplicably aroused by this woman who was seven years his senior. It was a sensation he wasn't accustomed to. Sure, she had initially caught his eye with her attractiveness, but knowing her age, he still felt this powerful, lustful pull towards her.

Amy, noticing Justin's sudden stillness, ceased her playful assault and stood there, watching him with her large, black pupils.

This was uncharted territory for Justin. He wasn't used to these feelings. His usual modus operandi involved pursuing women for short-lived flings, never allowing any emotional involvement. But here, with Amy, he had an overwhelming desire to hold her and kiss her right there on the cramped, stifling sidewalk.

Sensing he was on the verge of surrendering to this burgeoning temptation and feeling a growing hardness downstairs, he stammered, "I gotta go," before abruptly dashing to his car. Amy remained in place, puzzled and confused, as she watched him speed away as if pursued by a horde of police officers.

Once Justin was out of her sight, Amy's scattered thoughts began to coalesce. She reached for her last bag of chocolate cookies and nibbled on them absentmindedly, walking aimlessly. It wasn't until she realized she had devoured the entire bag that she noticed she had somehow arrived at the grandiose QueenHotel.

The Queen Hotel was a five-star establishment known for its opulence, with renowned chefs imported from France and Italy. While not her usual choice of cuisine, the prospect of staying in a five-star hotel for the Queenstown conference sounded enticing.

Amy passed through the double glass doors, entering a vast foyer and reception area adorned in the QueenHotel's signature colors of red, gold, and white—colors believed to bring success according to feng shui. Her surroundings had shifted, and she began to feel more relaxed, her earlier agitation dissipating.

As she turned towards the reception area, Amy collided with a solid chest. Looking up, she found herself face-to-face with the most handsome man she had ever seen, excluding the charming Casanova, of course.

Criteria number one: handsome. Check.

Amy nearly stumbled, but the man caught her, preventing her from falling backward.

Criteria number two: a gentleman. Check.

"Are you all right?" the gentleman inquired, concern in his eyes.

Amy nodded, feeling slightly dazed. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

Criteria number three: sincere. Check.

"Are you one of the guests here? I can escort you to your room," he offered.

Amy looked at the stranger in awe. "No, I'm not a guest here. I'm here for an appointment. My name is Amy Maria Douglas, the periodontist who is speaking at the Dental Hygiene Conference in Queenstown."

"Miss Douglas," the gentleman replied. "Thank you for coming all the way here. You are one of our special guests. My name is Kyle Queen. I believe one of our representatives is expecting you."

"Kyle Queen," Amy repeated, impressed. "Like the name of this hotel?"

"Yes, I am the CEO. My uncle owns the hotel, though. I am his nephew. Perhaps you have heard of him, Henry Queen, born in America."

Kyle Queen, the nephew of Henry Queen, the owner of a vast hotel chain around the world. Kyle Queen, the CEO of this prestigious establishment.

Reputation. Check. Intelligence. Check. Wealth. Check.

What more could she say? Amy had, quite unexpectedly, stumbled upon the perfect potential sperm donor partner for her endeavor.