Her image of him was a man peculiarly eating in special places she herself couldn't step afoot because of its greatly annoying prices. But here he was eating luxuriously with bare hands with no sense of elegance at all, opposite to his clean-shaven face, well-combed hair, and well-ironed clothes. He ate a lot of rice and Shumai, tripled with what she ate. Then a few rice bits stuck on his face, making her laughed aloud.

Slowly, she found him pleasant as a companion. He made her forget the painful conversation with her aunt earlier.

But before she could think more pleasurable things about him, she stopped indulging in such encouraging thoughts. To get involved with this man was dangerous, she said to herself. She set herself up for a major disappointment if she did, closing his heart outright.

While on John's side, he enjoyed playing the poor att.i.tude he displayed. Seeing the effect he wanted, gave him contentment. Her laughs made her at ease with him. Her stiffness, while they were in the shop, flew away. Her laughter bubbled, sounded like music to his ear.

Then Diane's phone resounded the 'Mission Impossible' movie soundtrack. "I have a call, excuse me." She walked meters away from him, far from him to hear anything.

John saw her eyebrows shut up and then her eyes blinked. She was seriously talking to the person on the other line. Then she placed the phone back to her bag.

"Excuse me, but I need to go somewhere."

"Can I drive you there?" He saw her somewhat bothered.

"No, thanks. I can handle." She walked away fast.

"Wait, the Shumai for your mother and a.s.sistant," he said as he lifted the box.

She ran back and received it. "Thank you. Bye, see you later," she said, darting off straight to the back of the shop. He waited for a moment longer for her to come out. He wondered what happened but decided to go to his brother's house to hand over the price list if she wouldn't come out soon.

John was satisfied with the result of his 'aggressive approach' for now and he didn't want to overdo it.

Unknown to him, Diane went to her room and changed the outfit to a formal black suit and tie and a pencil skirt. She arranged her hair to a bun and wore silver-trimmed eyegla.s.ses. Her lips were red as a rose and she wore her high heeled black shoes. The looks she had now was the exact opposite of the fresh spring countenance she had earlier.

As John started the car engine, she noticed a lady dressed in a formal suit coming out from the gate of Diane's house. He wasn't sure but she looked like Diane. So, he followed her.

Diane took a taxi and it headed straight to Harrison Plaza Hotel. The taxi stopped at the hotel's front lobby. John led his car to the parking lot then ran to the lobby but he was too late. The concierge welcomed him. He smiled back and asked about the lady he described who newly came in.

"I think the lady went up to her room," said the lady behind the counter.

"Is she staying here?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Do you want to book a room, sir?" The lady changed the topic.

John understood. The hotel staff was protecting the ident.i.ty of their customers. "Maybe, next time. Thank you." He left the hotel but he was not at ease.

He was sure that was Diane because he caught a glimpse of the particular big mole under her ear. He could not be mistaken. What was going on here? He wondered.