Page 33 of Worth Fighting For

“She gotbull-dozed,” Thomas says, and he and James give each other a fist bump.

“What did you do to Xingxing?” I snap.

James’s eyes widen in a show of innocence. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you, you got behind her and—”

“Did you hit your head?” James says with mock concern. “I think you’re confused.”

“Aiya, stop it, you kids,” Auntie Jiayi says, bustling over. “Oh, Zhou, are you okay? Are you hurt? Okay, come here, I’ll clean you up.”

I let Auntie Jiayi lead me toward a nearby barn, where she hands me a garden hose. “You hose yourself down first, then you can go inside the house to have shower. Don’t track cow dung all over the house.”

“Of course not,” I mumble, and douse myself in freezing-cold water. This is it. This is the lowest of lows. I have hit rock bottom. There is no possible way I can get lower than this. At least the others have stopped crowding me, instead dispersing around the ranch to check on various things.

After I’ve washed off most of the dung, I trudge back toward the farmhouse, dripping wet and shivering violently. Halfway there, Shang calls out to me. I keep walking, pretending not to hear him.

“Hey.” He hurries over and tosses something at me. It’s a blanket. “Got this from the barn. It’s a horse blanket.”

He got me a blanket? I can barely look him in the eye. He’s all handsome and clean, his skin fresh and not covered in cow dung like mine is. I wrap the blanket around myself. It’s scratchy and so stiff it might as well be made of cardboard, but I’m still grateful for the warmth it offers me. “Thanks,” I mutter.

“So you grew up herding cows, huh?” he says.

I glower at him. Did he give me the blanket as a way to get in an interrogation? “American cows are different from Chinese cows.”

“Oh?” Shang’s eyebrows rise, making him look slightly less stern than usual. God, but he’s attractive. “But you heard what Uncle Hong said, these are Chinese cows.”

Unfortunately, he’s right. “Well, then you guys haven’t raised them right. They are belligerent.”

Shang nods, and says dryly, “Hooligans, they are.”

“Exactly. You need to discipline them.”

“Mm. And I’m guessing the cows you have back home are not like Xingxing?”

Is he teasing me? I can’t tell, partly because my head is a mess, and partly because I’m so painfully aware that nothing can develop between the two of us. He’s forbidden fruit, I remind myself. The CEO of a company I’m trying to acquire. Not allowed. Out of bounds. “No, actually. They are very respectful and filial and they go where I tell them to.”

“Wow, respectful and filial cows, this I have got to see.”

“Maybe one day,” I say. Okay, I need to put a stop to this. Somber, buttoned-up Shang is already distracting enough. Chatty Shang is damn near irresistible, and I need to keep things very professional. “Look, Shang, I would love to continue this witty repartee we’ve got going on, but—”

“It’s hard keeping up banter when you’re covered in shit?”

“Yes. I would like to walk in silence now. Thank you for your understanding and cooperation.”

CHAPTER TEN

The garden hose has washed away most of the mess, but I take an extra-long, particularly hot shower because, well, no amount of water can wash away the memory of thatsquelchas I landed in the pile of dung, not to mention the stench and feel of it. I’m in the middle of toweling dry my hair when the bedroom door opens and Mushu calls out, “Zhou? You in there?”

Thick, fluffy, white terry-cloth robes have been prepared for every room, and I gratefully wrap myself in one before stepping out of the bathroom.

“How we doing?” Mushu says.

“Well, considering I was covered in cowpats less than an hour ago, I think we’re recovering just fine.”

“Good, because we really need to step it up, and bywe, I mean you.”

I glance at Mushu’s reflection in the mirror as I continue drying my hair. “What do you mean?”

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