Lisa
I'm not a breakfast kind of person.
My mornings start with a double shot of espresso and the click-click-click of my inbox as I scroll through my work emails. But Roxanne Bhuwakul is a charming woman, and I'm trying not to be a complete jerk to her, so I take part in her family-style breakfast around the table. I let the plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, beans, and a freshly baked biscuit steam in front of me as I peer through the rims of my reading glasses to scan my laptop.
I have a couple of emails about the winery that I mark urgent and forward to my partner in Cheongdo. Meanwhile, everyone slowly filters downstairs one by one.
"Hell, Mama, this looks delicious." Bambam clunks over like bull and flops down at the head of the table.
"Figured that I'd give your city friends a little taste of country-side hospitality." Roxanne calls back as she clatters and putters around the kitchen. If I were a betting person, I'd guess that she hasn't stopped moving since she woke up at the crack of dawn this morning.
"It smells great, Mrs. Bhuwakul." I fix my attention on my emails so I don't have to look at Bambam's face. The reception here is crap, but I flick my thumb repeatedly over the refresh button regardless.
Bambam, unfortunately, feels the need to make small talk with me because he leans across the table. "Phone's giving you trouble? You can only get reception in certain spots in this house, I'm afraid. Call us backwards, but we prefer trees to them cell towers. If you need to, I can give you a ride into town..."
"That won't be necessary." The idea of spending more time with Bambam than I have to makes me want to grind away my teeth filings. I give up trying to get my email to work and tuck my phone into my back pocket. My eyes trail over Bambam's colourful, patterned shirt. The fabric looks nice, thin, not his usual bulky wool.
"Nice shirt." I tell him.
Bambam breaks into one of his too-large grins, like a floppy labourer. "You like it? You Manobans must have the same taste. Your sister got this one for me."
"Paid for it too, I would imagine."
Half of his smile drops like a cheap window shade. "She's a sweet girl. She likes to give me gifts."
"Not as much as you like to get gifts, I'm sure."
Before I can outright call him my sister's boy toy, Bambam glances around furtively and then reaches into his shirt pocket. "Listen... I've got something that I want you to hold on to. Seeing as you're the official attendant... and Mina's sibling... it feels right."
He takes something tiny out of his pocket and passes it over the table to me. I hold out my palm, and he drops a small box into it.
My blood goes cold. I know what it is, but I open the velvet box anyway.
