Pearls of Asia: A Love Story (21 page)

A tuxedo clad waiter stopped by their table to offer two glasses of champagne. “Good evening, monsieur and mademoiselle. These are compliments of Hubert.”

“Of course they are,” said Mac. He looked around at the assemblage of elegance and privilege. They weren’t the kind of people Mac would find at his favorite sports bar, but they were the kind who might own the team. “I suppose this place would spontaneously combust if I asked for a beer.” Sheyla kicked Mac under the table with one of her Prada shoes. He took the champagne.

A tall, willowy-looking man with a long grey ponytail soon appeared at their table. It was the restaurant’s owner and chef, Hubert Keller. “Good evening, Mademoiselle Sheyla. It’s so wonderful to see you again. I don’t know how you do it, but you look even lovelier every time I see you.” He softly kissed her hand.

“Why thank you, Hubert. You look dashing as always.”

“You are too kind. And who is this handsome gentleman sharing your company this evening?”

“This is Mac Fleet. He’s a police detective.” Once again, Sheyla introduced Mac as a cop. Even though she said it with a sense of pride, Mac made a note to tell her not to give every person they met his resume.

“Mademoiselle Sheyla, I haven’t seen you in so long,” said Hubert. “I trust I treated you and your lady friends well the last time you graced me with your presence?” Hubert regularly hosted the girls from
Pearls of Asia
to dinner at his restaurant. He also liked to gather a group of them together and treat them to a night on the town at some of the finest eateries in the city, a sort of secret society he called ‘Reyna’s Supper Club.’ He enjoyed their company, their flair, and their wicked sense of humor. But what he enjoyed most was their glamour. Like the girls he grew up with in France, the ladies from
Pearls of Asia
knew how to be women.

“How could I forget?” she said. “You always treat us like princesses.”

“Because that’s what you ladies are. Princesses. By the way, how is Mademoiselle Reyna?”

“She’s fine. She missed seeing you last week at
Pearls of Asia
. You know you’re the only reason she likes to work there on Sundays. What happened?”

“Chantal wasn’t feeling well, and I wanted to care for her.” Hubert then picked up their menus. “Now, let me prepare for you and Monsieur Fleet a fabulous four-course meal, with each dish paired with the perfect wine. I only do this for my favorite customers, and anytime I am blessed to have Mademoiselle Sheyla in my restaurant, I want to do something special for her.”

As Hubert walked back to the kitchen, Sheyla reached over and ran her fingers through Mac’s hair. “I love a man who takes control,” she said, looking into her date’s blue eyes. Mac knew better, though. He was beginning to understand that when it came to dealing with Sheyla Samonte, he had about as much control as a cowboy riding a bull.

THE CHAMPAGNE WAS BEGINNING
to loosen Mac up, just in time for the first course. “I think I figured out why I was so nervous earlier,” he said. “Here I am with this wonderful, beguiling woman, yet I’m the only one who’s in on the joke.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Sheyla, pausing her assault on a chilled Dungeness crab salad.

“You know. You. I’m the only one here who knows that you’re not really a woman. You’re the most dazzling looking person in the restaurant, yet if anyone knew you who you really were, they’d be floored.”

Sheyla placed her fork on the table and gave Mac a glare that could melt steel. “So I’m a joke, am I?” Her voice dropped two octaves, from sexy to severe. “Let me ask you something, Mac. Do I look like a man to you?”

“No. No, of course not. That’s not what I meant. I…”

“Do I sound like a man to you?”

“Of course not, but…”

“Then if you ever say that again to me,” she said, picking up her butter knife, “I’ll take this dull utensil and turn you into a gelding.”

Mac threw his hands up and surrendered. “I get the picture, Sheyla. I’m really sorry.” He was genuinely remorseful, and he felt like a dog putting his tail between his legs. “Please forgive me. I’m just not used to being with someone like you.”

“Baby,” she said softly, returning to the velvety voice she knew he wanted to hear, “play your cards right, and you and those fabulous dimples of yours will be spending a lot of time with me.”

The second course, pan seared foie gras, was now being served. “Mac, its time I ask you a question. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Define ‘girlfriend.’”

Sheyla smiled and rested her chin on her hand. “Mac, we have a word in Tagalog called ‘charing.’ Do you know what it means?”

“I’m afraid I’m a little rusty on my Tagalog. Enlighten me.”

“Well, in the Filipino gay community it means something like ‘bullshit.’ So from now on, every time I think you’re full of it, I’m going to shout, ‘charing!’ So either you answer my question, or I’m going to stand up and give this entire room a lesson in Tagalog.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” laughed Mac, sharing an impish smile, “I guess I’ll have to tell you the truth.”

“I love it when a man tells me the truth. It’s so rare.” Sheyla reached over the table and placed her hand on top of Mac’s. He turned his hand over and was now holding hers. It felt as natural to him as a morning sunrise.

“I’m legally separated from my wife, but I’m in the process of getting a divorce. She walked out on me nine months ago, and I haven’t spoken to her since.”

“That’s awful. I’m so sorry, Mac. What happened?”

“Life happens. We just outgrew each other. She was a fun gal when we first met, but then she got an MBA and morphed into this cold-blooded investment banker. Soon she decided she needed someone in her life she could take to fancy dinner parties who wouldn’t embarrass her around her Wall Street friends. In the end our jobs didn’t give us time to communicate and work out our problems. The love of my life is my career, Sheyla. I’m loyal to it and it’s loyal to me. When I’m working a case, I work it 24/7. That makes me wary of committing to a relationship. In a warped sort of way, I consider my job my ‘girlfriend.’”

Silence fell across the table, but not the awkward kind that appears uncomfortable. It was the kind that comes with two people learning about, and learning to respect, one another. Mac squeezed Sheyla’s hand and leaned in close to her, “What about you, Sheyla? Have you ever been in love?”

“Never,” she said, her eyes looking down at their intertwined hands. “I have a difficult time trusting men. I’ve spent most of my life with men who are less than faithful. I want to fall in love, but I don’t know whom to trust, or even how to trust. Did I tell you about the time I spent in Thailand?”

“No. Tell me. I want to hear about it.”

“After my father kicked me out of the house, I moved to Pattaya, a beach resort on the east coast of Thailand. The place is full of girls like me, only they’re known as ‘kathoeys,’ or ‘ladyboys.’ The only job I could get was working as a go-go dancer at a nightclub. It was there that I met a girl named Rose who later became my roommate and best friend. Although I’m not proud of it, I ran into problems paying my share of the rent, so Rose introduced me to prostitution. I hate to admit it, but at first I liked it. I mean, the thought of having a man, paying to be in my company, and wanting to have sex with me, excited me. It validated my dreams of becoming a woman.

“Then one night, a client of ours wanted to have sex with me, but I already had an appointment to meet another customer at his hotel. This guy got really upset at me, but Rose calmed him down after she told him he could have sex with her instead. So the two of them went back to our place. I don’t know what happened after that, but the next morning I came home and knocked on her bedroom door to see if Rose wanted to get some coffee. When she didn’t answer, I walked into her room and found her lying on the floor, her throat slashed. Oh my God, it was awful.”

“That must have been terrible.”

“It was. But what could I do? Where could I go? My father wouldn’t let me come home. Somehow I managed to survive, and a few years later I entered another transsexual beauty pageant, The Queen of the Universe, which is so big in Thailand it’s televised to the entire country. I won again, and I used the $10,000 first prize to move to San Francisco. Not bad for a poor girl from Cebu, don’t you think?”

Mac shook his head in disbelief, his face marveling not just in Sheyla’s personal strength, but in her positive attitude as well. “You’re an incredible person, Sheyla Samonte. Not many people could have handled what you’ve had to endure. I’m sure it takes courage to change your sex, but it takes an iron will to travel the path you’ve taken.”

The waiter brought over the main course; oven roasted venison chops. “Sheyla, let me ask you a question. How much longer do you want to be a kept woman?”

“How much longer do you want to be a detective?”

Mac took less that a second to answer. “That’s easy. I want to drop dead at my desk. I love my job. I’d be nowhere without it.”

Sheyla cut into her perfectly prepared entrée with the delicacy of a duchess blended with the savagery of a gladiator. Sheyla had a steak knife in her hand, and she definitely knew how to use it. “Well, believe it or not, Inspector Fleet, I’m not quite as enamored with my profession as you are with yours. In all honesty, I can’t stand being someone’s mistress.”

“I don’t believe that,” replied Mac. “Not for one second. You have everything you could possibly want: money in the bank, a great place to live, and you get to travel all over the world. How could you give that up?”

“That’s just stuff, Mac. Money buys toys and experiences, and I’ve had my fill of both. But I’d give it all up tomorrow if I could.”

“Then tell me, Sheyla. What do you want?”

Sheyla put down her fork and reached for her glass of burgundy. “I want a love story. I want to find my soulmate, to be courted, and to be swept up in a tidal wave of romance. I want to be the girl a man looks at from across the room, smiles, and says to his friends, ‘that’s her.’ I’ll never forget what Rose once said to me. ‘Sex is about shoes and cars, but love is about shooting stars.’”

“Come on, Sheyla. As beautiful as you are, I’m sure you could find someone to settle down with.”

“You don’t get it, Mac. It’s difficult for a woman like me to find true love. Whenever I work at
Pearls of Asia
, men like Paul Osher hit on me all the time. They want to go home with a fantasy, not wake up with reality. They want ‘the best of both worlds,’ to savor the risk of a sinfully sexual relationship. If they do start to fall for you, they try to keep you a secret, or run away because they don’t want anyone close to them to discover what you really are.”

“But what about all the glamour, the attention, the way you make men weak in the knees. How could you give that up?”

“Honey, I’ve been blessed with good looks, but this face and this body aren’t going to last forever. What am I going to do when I get older? I can have all the lovers I want right now, but what I really want is a man who will help me walk up the stairs when I’m old, who will take care of me when I’m sick, who will sit next to me on the couch and hold my hand when I’m feeling alone. I want someone to love me for who I am, not what I am.”

It was time for dessert. Hubert prepared a special chocolate soufflé for them to share. Sheyla had become noticeably quiet. Mac looked over and saw tears rolling down her cheek. “Sheyla, are you crying?”

Sheyla reached into her purse for a handkerchief. “I’m sorry, Mac, but when I start thinking too much about all this, I get in touch with so many feelings. It’s so upsetting. I just don’t want to live this life anymore. I can’t do it.”

Mac reached for her hand. “Then why don’t you just stop? Why don’t you get another job, or go back to school?”

“Because I can’t just get another job,” she said after wiping her eyes, careful not to smear her mascara. “What else could I do? And how could I go back to school? I didn’t even graduate from high school.”

“You can change, Sheyla. You can turn your life around. You can do anything you want if you put your mind to it. Look at what you’ve already accomplished.”

“You make it sound so easy, Mac. When I was little, I’d lie awake at night and dream about becoming a model, or a famous actress. Being a trans woman, your life isn’t easy, and sometimes you have to make difficult choices. I never wanted to be Paul Osher’s mistress, but I felt I didn’t have any choice. Now it’s the only thing I know how to do, and I hate it.”