Page 72 of Don't Point at the Moon

“What? Why?”

“Because while I style your hair, my assistant, Ophelia, will wash your feet, then give you a pedicure followed by the best foot massage you’ve ever had.”

Tommy turned as the door closed behind him, catching a glimpse of Mitchell’s alarmed expression through the shop window. He couldn’t help but laugh and blew an exaggerated air kiss to him before continuing on his way.

Chapter Nineteen

On the morning of Sammi and Daley’s wedding, Mitchell stood in front of his full-length mirror, putting the finishing touches to his outfit, grateful that Tommy had insisted on an uncomplicated clip-on bow tie. Once it was straightened, he stepped back and winced. The new shoes pinched uncomfortably and would need time to wear in, time he didn’t have. He had an agreement with Tommy to showcase every item they had picked out, even though a pair of his work shoes would have provided more comfort.

During the week, colleagues had stared at his new haircut, and some in his department had passed favourable comments. A minor miracle considering the morale. All he saw when he looked in the mirror was an overdressed man in his late thirties desperately trying to regain his youth. The hairdresser had even waxed and shaped his eyebrows, removing the barely noticeable hair between them to provide more definition. Thank goodness Ellie hadn’t been invited to the wedding. His sister would most likely have choked with laughter. They would FaceTime tomorrow, and she would undoubtedly provide him with her candid opinion whether or not he asked.

Joel would have approved. Wholeheartedly. Not only at the Mitchell upgrade but also at the selfless act of Mitchell helping Tommy to connect with Alec, no matter how sombre the thought made him feel. Joel had been the one to badger a reluctant Mitchell into various fancy dress costumes for college parties. Another door that had closed with his passing, until Zane hadcoerced him into that ridiculous pirate costume. The thought made him smile. Hopefully, Zane would be on the call again tomorrow and would not only approve but applaud Tommy’s makeover choices.

Funny thing, but the silence of the apartment following Zane’s departure had hit Mitchell hard. Only a few times during his nephew’s stay had Mitchell yearned to have his space back. Standing there alone now, he missed asking Zane’s opinion, missed having him pad barefoot across the room to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen, headphones still in place, or join Mitchell on the sofa to watch a programme, sitting cross-legged while peeling an orange.

Mitchell gave himself another critical once-over just as his phone rang. Gemma from the recruitment agency. He stared at the display, unsure whether to take the call. The meeting with her local boss had been cordial. He’d been honest about the position they would create for Mitchell, which felt more like a sales role. The basic salary would be minimal, supplemented by the number of hiring placements he successfully completed each month. The arrangement made him uncomfortable, but Gemma’s boss had come from a similar background to Mitchell. They had left him to think about the offer while they sought a final sign-off from their supervisor. Taking a deep breath, Mitchell answered the call.

“Hi, Mitchell. Are you free to talk?”

“Go ahead. I’m getting dressed for a wedding on the front lawn of the Repulse Bay. But the ceremony doesn’t start for another couple of hours.”

“Oh, I see. In which case, this is a huge ask, but our CEO is in town from Vancouver and flies out later today. We want to offer you the recruitment position, but he’s asked if there’s any chance he could meet you in person before he heads to the airport. I’ve been showing him around Stanley, so we’re not far from theRepulse Bay. Could you jump in a taxi and pop over for fifteen minutes?”

Mitchell checked the time. Stanley was about half an hour’s taxi ride from home, and the venue was only ten minutes from Stanley. The meet-up would be doable if he could catch a ride immediately.

“Give me thirty to forty minutes. And you’d better let him know I’m going to be overdressed. Where should I meet you?”

Gemma gave directions to a bespoke coffee shop in Stanley Plaza as Mitchell locked his front door and made his way down the stairs of his apartment block. Fortunately, the door to Mrs Lau’s apartment stood firmly closed today, and he escaped undisturbed into daylight. Catching a taxi on Saturday morning proved to be a trial. Fortunately, Tommy had recommended a local taxi app, and he plugged in his details. Sure enough, a driver responded a few minutes later, and he waited for his pick-up. Tommy had also put him right on wedding gift protocols, a red envelope containing cash being the custom, and far easier to transport than the often bulky and overpriced presents from wedding lists that had become the norm at Western weddings.

* * * *

Mitchell found Gemma and the CEO at the back of the air-conditioned coffee shop. During the short walk from the taxi drop-off to the café, he had felt perspiration caused by humidity trickling down his spine. He had also garnered amused looks from people, overdressed as he was.

Gemma gave him a hug as though they were old friends, and the CEO gave his hand a firm shake. Mitchell almost laughed when she pushed a large mug of his favourite caffè americano toward him. In discussion, the man appeared more concerned about Mitchell and allaying his concerns. Mitchell took an instant liking to him as he talked about his own journey settingup the business before highlighting the success of their Asia Pacific operations. He also made no bones about the hard work and long hours involved. Time flew by, and eventually, Mitchell had to make an excuse to leave.

“Off you go, then. Enjoy your day. Just know that you come highly recommended, Mitchell,” said the CEO. “And you’ll have an offer in your inbox Monday morning. Isn’t that right, Gemma?”

“Already drafted and ready to send. Just needed your digital sign-off, boss,” said Gemma, grinning at Mitchell.

Grateful for a dose of the café’s air-conditioning and caffeine, Mitchell had to wait only a few minutes for a taxi. When he arrived at the Repulse Bay, the ceremony appeared to be about to begin. As the taxi driver pulled away, Mitchell hurried to the entrance, where an attendant checked his invitation before ushering him towards the cordoned-off area. Just before the last row of seating, a good-looking older lady in a beautiful sleeveless cheongsam of red silk and embroidered florals stepped forward to greet him.

“Good afternoon,” she said, taking in his attire with her approval plain. “I’m the grandmother of the bride. And who might you be, young man?”

“Lovely to meet you,” he said, holding a hand in greeting. “I’m your grandson’s date.”

“Tommy?” said the woman, her surprise plain.

“Sorry, yes. Tommy.”

“Heavens. He said he would bring somebody to make me proud today, but he really has outdone himself. Do you have a name?”

Mitchell laughed and introduced himself properly. The woman appeared to process his introduction before meeting his gaze and asking if he lived in a very particular block of apartments on the island.

“How would you know that?’” he asked, more curious than offended.

“Well,” she said, grinning mysteriously. “This is a strange coincidence. I’m your landlady, Mr Baxter. I know we’ve never met, but I believe you know my friend, Mrs Lau—”

“You’re Mrs Zhang? Who sends me Chinese proverbs on cards?”

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