Tash Aw - Five Star Billionaire

“I’m sorry, it’s so rude of me. I’m not my usual self today — as I said, you make me really … nervous. Hai , so stupid of me; I’m normally very confident. And it’s not lies! It’s true!”

She laughed. “Young men these days, so full of superfluous nonsense!”

“What kind of drink would you like?”

“Macchiato,” she said. She liked showing off her English. She could tell he was impressed. “What are you having? Caffe latte?”

“Just tea. Longjing, if they have any. I’m very boring and traditional. I’m not used to all this modern coffee drinking.”

He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and took out a long wallet that looked thick with credit cards. Phoebe tried not to show that she was noticing it, noticing where he kept it, how much it contained. “What did you want again?” he said. “I’m so useless — I can’t even pronounce it!”

As she watched him standing at the counter, Phoebe began to form a fuller picture of him, one that had eluded her during her online chats with him. There he had seemed more confident and daring, making wisecrack jokes and stating his opinion in a forthright manner on many subjects, such as the outrageous property prices, government politics, and Internet censorship. She had imagined him as an entrepreneur whose boldness came from having made money, probably older than he said he was, maybe married too — someone who would want to feel her up and take advantage of her. She didn’t mind. She, too, had her plans, and he fit them perfectly. Being insensitive and slightly lascivious, he would not figure out that she was meeting him only to get money, would not realize that she was using him until it was too late, until he woke up in the morning to find his wallet missing. Or maybe she would insist that he give her some money, which she would do only after he was in a state of full excitement. Men will do anything when they are past a certain point of sexual arousal . She might find his wife’s phone number in his mobile phone and threaten to inform her of his sordid extramarital behavior if he did not give Phoebe some money.

Instead, she had found someone younger, well mannered, and timid, the kind of man she might once have liked to go on dates with — the very opposite of the high-flying modern tycoon she had been searching for. She looked at his nice jeans and slim leather shoes, which had little tassels on them. His glasses were rimless and made him look like a nervous university student, even though he was in his early thirties. Frankly, he did not have an exhilarating appearance or personality; he was a perfect example of a shiyong nan —not rich but comfortable, not handsome but still acceptable. A man whose value lay in his high functional and practical aspects, who could maintain your material needs to a reasonable level and would be a solid companion. She had not expected such a person while chatting on the Internet.

He kept glancing back from the counter and smiling shyly at her, and the moment she smiled back he turned away. It was because he was intimidated by her sophistication, Phoebe thought. Maybe she should not have dressed in this high-glamour way. She began to feel guilty for planning to use him for financial gain; perhaps he did not deserve that. But he was a man, he liked her, she could sense her power over him — he was ideal. She should not let the opportunity slip. Maybe he could even become a boyfriend. Who knew?

He returned with their drinks, a small coffee for her, a pot of Longjing for himself.

“Oh, sorry,” Phoebe said, “let me move my handbag.” She shifted the bag slightly to make space for the drinks but did not move it off the table.

“That’s a very stylish bag,” he said, his gaze resting on it.

“What? Oh, hmm.” Phoebe did not want to acknowledge his remark too much; she wanted to show that such a luxury-brand bag was not a big deal in her life. But her ploy had worked. The 1,000- kuai investment, the careful selection of the brand — it had all been worth it.

“LV is so popular in China these days,” he said, “even though it is so expensive. You must have a very good job.”

“I could do better, but it’s fine for now; it pays the bills. Everything in Shanghai costs so much lately,” she replied, sipping her coffee. “Tell me, what do you think of the new fiscal measures introduced by the government to cool down the overheated property market? I’ve been looking to buy a new place, but apartment prices are just crazy right now.” She had paid special attention to the duller parts of the newspaper, committing to memory such expressions as “fiscal measures” and “overheated property market.”

“You sound knowledgeable about property — don’t tell me you’re one of those rich speculators!” As he spoke, she could tell that he was impressed by her chic demeanor. He would look at her but would not dare to hold her gaze for too long. Although he was careful not to show it, she could also tell that he was still a little intimidated, because he would occasionally look at her legs and the skin around her breastbone, which she had left exposed to the November chill. But, above all, his nervy glances kept returning to her handbag, which was still sitting on the table between them. She began to feel sorry for this man; he was so easily browbeaten and beguiled by her feminine allure that for a moment she wondered if she should soften her approach to him. But then she thought, No, this is what it means to be a modern woman in Shanghai. He was a Functional Man: His purpose was to be dominated by women like her. Honey, if you don’t take advantage of men from time to time, you can bet your bottom dollar they’ll soon take advantage of you .

“Of course I’m not a property tycoon,” Phoebe said. “My parents are quite generous — they allow me to live with them — but I would like more independence.”

“If I were you,” the Functional Man said, “I wouldn’t bother to buy a place now. You’re still so young. In a few years, property prices will hit rock bottom. Why? Think about it: I am thirty-four years old. When my parents die, I am going to inherit their apartment. My wife … well, I’m not married yet, but when I do get married, my wife will also inherit an apartment from her parents. That means when we die, our child will inherit two apartments. If our child gets married, his wife will also inherit two apartments. So if the one-child policy continues, everyone is going to have four apartments: Who’s going to want all of these places? You’ll be able to buy them for nothing!”

Phoebe was impressed by his logic — she would never have been able to think like this. He truly was a man of practical thinking! She said, “That’s very interesting. What else do you think?”

They talked about all sorts of things — the Functional Man really knew how to speak. She was pleased with the way the date was going, because she knew that he was enamored of her ( when men talk a lot, it’s a sign that they’ve let their guard down — you’ve got them! ). However, she was careful to remain aloof, leaning back in her seat and giving him cool looks to demonstrate her superiority and desirability.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m boring you,” he said after a while.

“No, why do you say that?”

“No reason. You seem a bit fidgety, that’s all. Do you need to go to the restroom?”

“No, I don’t. But I would like another drink. Maybe some tea. Wait a second, I’ll get this round.”

“Out of the question; a man cannot let a beautiful young woman pay for anything.” He reached inside his jacket, and Phoebe could not help that her eyes were drawn to the spot where his wallet lay.

“Hey, big brother, this is the modern world, you know.” Do little things for a man when he least expects it, and you will soon reap the rewards . As she reached for her handbag, she felt the tinkling laugh rise up in her throat again. She unzipped her bag and reached inside it for her wallet made of glossy red leather with a gold buckle that was bound to attract his attention. She went to the counter, ordered their drinks, and waited patiently in the queue to collect them. She decided to maintain her cool superiority, so she did not turn around to look at him; she did not want him to think that she was anxious to get back to him or that she was fascinated by him. She wanted to remain unattainable, just as her self-help books said she should. Everything she had learned from them so far was serving her well. She stood upright — as straight as she could, given her high heels — and she made sure she pulled her shoulder blades back so that they squeezed together. He would be excited by the sight of this, for sure he would be. The warm air from the heater vent blew softly on her bare shoulders and swept around her neck, and the tight dress she was wearing clung to her buttocks; when she shifted her position to collect the tray from across the counter, she could feel the fabric stretch around her hips, the seams cutting gently into her flesh.