Page 33 of Tell Me Something

I put my glass down and thought that he meant for me to do a complete turn-around, but he stopped me halfway.

“Now, on the subject of your ass, who in the world told you it was big?”

Looking over my shoulder, I smiled at him.

He cupped it through my dress. “It’s perfect, really. Not too big, not too bony, very spankable.” Just like that, his hand smacked my backside.

Turning around, I feigned an indignant look. “Ouch. Not nice.”

He chuckled and threw back the rest of his drink.

“Turns out Ana and the receptionist had a very colorful chat about how there’s only one reason I work for you, and then it was mentioned that I had a big ass.”

Confusion furrowed his brow. “They actually said this to you?”

Smiling, I shook my head slowly. “Oh, they had no idea I could understand what they were saying.”

It was finally sinking in. “You understand Chinese?”

“I know Cantonese and some Mandarin. In Hong Kong, or at least in that office, most speak Cantonese, which is good because it’s easier for me to understand that dialect.”

“You can read and write Chinese?” He was completely taken aback.

Taking Josh off guard probably didn’t happen often. “I can speak and understand Cantonese and Mandarin, although understanding the latter is harder. You do realize there’s more than one Chinese dialect, right?”

He only shook his head.

Finally, something I knew that he didn’t. “Cantonese is the official language of Hong Kong—well, along with English. Meanwhile, Mandarin is prevalent throughout most of mainland China, Beijing, Singapore, et cetera. I never really got the hang of the whole Chinese character thing, so it’s sort of like being illiterate. I can speak it and understand it, but writing and reading is another story.”

“And you learned these languages when?”

“I took it in high school. One of my friends was a foreign exchange student from Hong Kong, and I had the opportunity to practice with her a lot. Then I studied both languages in college, too. I didn’t know how I’d do here, but I understand the dialect pretty well. You really didn’t read my resume that I had on file with Warren, did you?”

He went over and poured himself another drink, having the grace to look chagrined. “Evidently not. What other languages do you know?”

“Spanish, as you know, and I can speak French, although not as well as Mandarin or Cantonese.”

“So you can understand the conversations in the office, what they’ve been saying?” Now he was getting the usefulness of my skill set.

“Yes.”

He took another drink. “They aren’t aware that you understand them? You didn’t let on?”

“It took all of my willpower not to throw my Diet Coke in her face, but no, they haven’t had a clue. I’m merely playing the ditzy secretary they all think I am.”

His expression conveyed annoyance. “You are anything but, and I didn’t mean to insult you by interrogating you about it. I…” He laughed at himself. “You surprise me. Just when I think I know you, I’m completely thrown for a loop. I find myself utterly intrigued.”

I felt a flush of pleasure. “The feeling is mutual.” Pulling out a dining room chair, I put my leg up, sliding my hem to show my stocking and garter. “Sometimes I don’t fasten these correctly and may need some help. Matter of fact, we could maybe be a little late for the party?”

Instead of the amusement I’d expected, a dark storm of emotions was reflected in his eyes, making me feel as though I might be consumed from the heat of them.

“We should go before we’re late,” he indicated quietly.

His mood shift caught me completely off guard. “What just happened?”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Nothing. We need to go.”

“You aren’t telling me something,” I murmured softly.