After leaving Da’an and crossing over into Xinyi, the driver slowed the vehicle and pulled up in front of a luxury condominium tower. The rain was coming down harder now, sending torrents of water down the sidewalk. Parsons paid the fare then stepped out and opened his umbrella. After taking Mei’s hand, he escorted her into the front lobby.
As they crossed the shiny tiled floor of the atrium, Parsons glanced over at his date. Her eyes widened at the building’s opulence, although the gesture seemed a bit contrived.
Still trying to play the role of the country girl.
Mei caught him looking at her and said, “It’s beautiful. I feel so out of place.”
Parsons had to admit that his current cover was about the best that agency money could buy. It was a time of austerity for most regions, but not Taipei. Despite the communist facade, Chinese hierarchy was impressed with money, and in order to penetrate their world you needed copious amounts of it.
“Sometimes I do too.” He put a hand on her waist as they approached a bank of elevators.
A concierge stood just to the right. He bowed and greeted them in flawless English. “Good evening, Mr. O’Donnell.”
“Thank you, Han.”
A minute later, they exited onto the thirty-fifth floor. As they turned down the hall, Mei slipped her arm through his. He smiled.
“So beautiful,” she said, admiring the marble floor in the corridor. “I think you’re too good for me.” She poked him gently in the ribs.
“Don’t be silly. Do I act like I’m too good for you?” He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the lips.
Moments later they arrived at his door. Parsons stepped in front of Mei, inserted his key card into the metal slot, and typed in a seven-digit code. After a two-second pause, the light at the top of the panel turned green and a lock clicked loudly.
The interior was dark when they entered. Parsons felt around until he found the dimmer switch on the wall. He pressed it, and the darkness slowly transitioned to a soft glow.
“Welcome,” he said, waving her in.
“Oh my, I …” Mei said as she walked out of the foyer and into the living room.
The flat was decorated in a decidedly contemporary style, with smooth stone walls and a sprinkling of Scandinavian furniture. Beyond the living room was an open kitchen and dining area. Both shared a floor-to-ceiling glass window looking out over suburban Taipei.
Mei walked through the dining room and stood at the window, taking in the view. “I’ve never seen the city from here.”
Parsons joined her at the glass. “Compliments of my father’s company.”
Mei seemed to stare at a nearby condominium tower before shifting her gaze toward the twinkling lights of downtown Taipei in the distance. Finally, she turned and looked at him. “I’m sorry?”
“The view… it’s compliments of my father’s company. Do you like it?”
“Do I like it?” She looked back through the glass. “I think I could really get used to this.”
“Well, first things first,” Parsons said, crossing into the kitchen. “For now, how about just telling me what you’d like to drink?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“Make yourself at home,” he said, nodding toward the living room. He plucked two glasses from the hanger under the cabinet then pulled a bottle of chilled sauvignon blanc from the fridge.
While pouring the wine, he watched Mei walk over and sink into the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He lifted an eyebrow then returned his attention to the wine.
“You know, you never tell me much about your father’s business,” she said. “I don’t even know what you do.”
Parsons stopped pouring for a moment, pondering his answer. “I will.” He finished pouring the wine, picked up both glasses, and left the kitchen. “My father is a very private man.” He handed a glass to Mei then set his on the end table. “His export business has been wildly successful and… well, he’s humble and doesn’t like to advertise the fact that he’s done so well. And frankly, I try to respect that.”
“No, I understand.” As Mei lifted the glass, it slipped awkwardly out of her hand, soaking her dress before she caught it. “Oh my!” she said, standing up and wiping herself with a bare hand. “I’m so clumsy.”
“You know, there are better ways to proposition me,” Parsons quipped as he stood.
She popped him playfully on the arm. “You’re naughty.”
He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “Let me get you another glass and a towel.”
“Thank you. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from.”
Parsons took her glass and returned to the kitchen. He uncorked the bottle and filled the glass once again, this time almost to the top.
He paused and tried to formulate a way forward from here. How far should he take the conversation tonight? The psychologists at Langley had warned him against trying to push too far too fast, but if she wanted to talk, why stop her? As he re-corked the bottle, Parsons decided to play it safe. In the spy business, patience was an agent’s best friend.
“If you don’t have enough wine—”
“I have plenty!” he said. “Be right there.”
He was still disturbed that she had been so cautious in her alcohol consumption. Conversely, he was also disappointed in himself that he’d pushed beyond his usual limit. One more glass to make her comfortable, then he’d be done.
After grabbing a towel, Parsons returned to the couch. “Here you are,” he said, setting her glass on the table and handing her the towel.
He settled in next to her and drained the remainder of his sauvignon blanc.
“I’ve never done this before,” Mei said as she wiped her dress. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“Don’t be.”
Finally Mei threw the towel onto the table and leaned into him. “You sure you can forgive me for being so clumsy?”
“I don’t know. I may need a little convincing.” He cupped her chin and gently pulled her mouth toward his. Their lips pressed together as their arms encircled one another. Parsons felt the warmth of her embrace and began to nibble on her neck. Mei tilted her head back slightly.
Suddenly he stopped and pulled back, rubbing his temple.
“What’s wrong?” Mei asked, forming her mouth into a pout. “I’m not making you happy.”
Parsons looked around the room. Even though he was seated, it seemed to wobble slightly. He felt like a child who’d been swung around in the air then placed down and asked to stand.
“No, of course you make me happy.” He looked at her. The image of her face was fuzzy, so he rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sure what it is. Probably the combination of champagne and wine. Just hit me a little hard.”
She tapped the end of his nose. “I warned you not to drink too much.”
She was right. He should have stopped drinking a long time ago. Then again, it seemed odd for his body to react this way. He wasn’t used to drinking champagne, so maybe the carbonation was the culprit.
“You sure you’re okay?” she asked.
He suddenly found it hard to combat the feeling of drifting off. “Sorry…”
Mei pulled him closer, rubbing the back of his head gently. “Just relax.”
After his eyes closed, Mei asked the man she knew as Peter a few questions in the silly voice she’d been practicing for weeks. Hearing no response, she poked his head gently several times. Still nothing. The pill had done its work, and even sooner than she’d expected. The idiot had probably quickened the process by drinking so much.