Page 2 of The Marriage Mission

The voice was smoky. It curled in the air. He could've sworn he could breathe it in. It was likely the fumes.

"You don't have to worry about a thing."

A tingle pressed against his shoulder blade. He rolled the muscles there, and it released.

"I'll take care of it, Nãinai. Yes, I promise."

The tingle went to the other side of Noah's shoulder. This time, when he tried to roll it free, it spread toward his spine. He knew that wordNãinai. He'd traveled a lot during his time in the service. It was the Mandarin word for grandmother.

"No, I don't need a man to do it for me. I can handle it."

The smoky voice was irritated. It made Noah grip his wrench. He imagined her down there, brow furrowed, phone pressed against her ear, perhaps standing in the midst of her own battlefield—juggling phone calls with the precision of a general. He couldn't see her, but her presence filled the space, her determination palpable.

"Please, let's not have this conversation again. This is not feudal China. And I'm not some piece of property to be handed off like the emperor giving away land to lords. No man is getting his hands on my restaurant."

Noah's grip tightened on the screw he'd loosened. For some odd reason, he wanted to pocket it. Take it home with him and keep it with him at all times.

Distracted, his attention divided, Noah failed to notice the precarious angle at which his tool hovered over the open wiring. His mind was in two places at once—caught in the wires before him and tracing the lines of an unseen woman's resolve. It was in this split second of inattention that his tool slipped, making contact where it shouldn't.

The resulting zap was immediate, a sharp, sizzling protest from the wires that made him jerk back. The lights below flickered, a strobe of warning before a muffled boom filled the air, more startling than destructive, but enough to plunge the kitchen into sudden darkness.

Heart hammering against his ribs, Noah cursed softly under his breath. This was not how he operated, not how he wanted to start his first day on the job. He scrambled down and out of the crawl space.

And then she was there.

It was still dark, but her blonde hair was like a beacon of light beckoning him forward. His fingers uncurled around the screw. It clattered to the ground as he reached out to touch, remembering too late that he didn't yet have the right to take her into his arms.

ChapterTwo

The morning rush at Chow Town had barely begun, yet Jacqui Chou already felt the weight of the day pressing down on her. She was sharing part of her kitchen with the bakery next door. That bakery happened to be her baby sister's shop, and Jules was not the best at sharing. Not when her parents had given the youngest of the three Chou siblings everything while they lived.

Jacqui didn't begrudge her baby sister that treatment. Not when she continued to model the behavior long after their parents' deaths.

"You need a man to help you."

Not for the first time today, Jacqui wished her dad was still here. Jun Chou was the only man she trusted to shoulder any of her burden. It had been hard to keep her back straight these last three years that he'd been gone.

"No, I don't need a man to do it for me. I can handle it."

"Why are you modern women so proud? Men and women have distinct roles. Men hunt and women gather. Woman aren't built for battle. It's causing too much stress in this day and age as women pick up the mantle."

Jacqui rolled her eyes, glad her grandmother couldn't see it. Words Meiying Chou would argue, but not unseen gestures. Sassy words had gotten Jacqui many a swat on the backside when she was little. She doubted her grandmother would stop now that she was in her eighties.

"You need to get married. Have a man help you shoulder some of the burden. What about that nice boy, Richard, from down the street?"

Jacqui didn't remind her grandmother that she was already dating someone.

Wait a minute… she was dating someone.

Wasn't she?

Mason had texted her over a week ago, trying to arrange a date so they could talk. Had she responded? She thought she had… hadn't she? But she couldn't remember if she’d received a text back from him. And they hadn't gone on that date to talk. She should check her phone to see if she'd put something on her calendar app. But her grandmother was still talking in the receiver.

"He's an accountant. He could take over the books while you work the kitchen."

Jacqui's fingers curled around her A5 journals. Her bullet journals did not make her tax preparer happy. But they made Jacqui happy. It was the best relaxation for her, putting invoices in purple and tracking expenses with various shades of pink—not red. There was just something about bringing order and putting items in categories that soothed her soul.

"Please, let's not have this conversation again, Nãinai. I do not prescribe to the Confucian ideology of the Three Obediences."

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