The Tiger and the Dragon by George deValier

Chapter 5

For the second morning in a row Yao was woken by his mobile phone. This time the display read Incoming Call... Kiku and he let out a deep breath.

"Hi, Kiku."

"Brother. You have a boyfriend."

"I do?"

"Don't you know? What is all this about receiving flowers at work?"

"You've been speaking to Feliciano."

"Of course I have. Why was I not informed of this little development?"

"Kiku, honestly. I don't have a boyfriend. Someone sent me flowers. Do I have to tell you every little thing that happens in my life?"

"Yes."

"I have to go, I'll speak to you later."

"Yao, if you hang up..."

Yao hung up, wondering briefly if he should get rid of his phone. He suddenly shivered as he remembered that he had a date with Ivan that afternoon. He jumped out of bed, skin tingling, and realised he was actually excited about it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this way. He looked at the bunch of sunflowers in a vase by his bed and smiled. It was going to be a difficult morning to get through.

It wasn't until the afternoon that Yao remembered that Ivan didn't even have his address. Yao put on a jacket, pulled his hair back into its customary ponytail and threw Ivan's scarf over his shoulders. He fought the desire to ring Ivan and tell him the address, instead deciding it would be far more interesting to see if he would figure it out on his own. After all, he seemed to have found out Yao's phone number and workplace. Yao wondered why he didn't feel as freaked out as he probably should have.

Yao stared at the clock on the wall, willing it to go faster and to stop at the same time. His stomach felt tied in knots and he drummed his fingers against the kitchen table repeatedly, wondering exactly what would happen when... the clock hit three and his doorbell rang at the exact same moment. Yao nearly fell off his chair. Instead he took a deep breath and reached into his pocket, grasping his little Buddha statue for luck. He went and opened the door.

"Good evening, sir!"

Yao looked down at the young man in confusion before recognizing him as the boy from Ivan's bar the other night. "Oh... Raivis, isn't it?"

The blonde nodded, smiling carefully. "Yes, sir. I've been sent up for you."

"All right." Yao locked the door behind him. "So Raivis, are you Russian as well?"

"No sir, actually I'm from Latvia." Raivis stared at the floor the entire time he was speaking.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Latvia, really?" Yao thought carefully, trying to remember what he could from an old Baltic phrasebook. "Man vienmēr domāju, ka latviešu ir ļoti skaista valoda."

Raivis looked up at Yao and his face and eyes lit up. "Liels paldies! Vai tu runā latviešu valodā?"

"Nē, piedodiet.* I only speak a very small amount. But it's true, I do find your language beautiful. I would love to learn more." The phrasebook was one of the only reminders of a European holiday Yao, Arthur and Alfred had never ended up taking.

"I can teach you sometime sir, I would be very happy to!"

Yao smiled, the little Latvian's happiness contagious. "I'd like that, Raivis. And please don't call me sir, my name is Yao."

Raivis laughed. "You're nicer than he said, Yao."

Yao stopped short. "Than who said?"

Raivis's face fell. "Um, never mind. Forget I said anything. Mr Braginsky is waiting downstairs for you, we should get going."