He glanced at her for a quick second before he returned his attention to the road, shifted gears, and sped past a convertible. “That’s just how I like things. It’s like you and … Why do you roll socks that way?”

She looked down and spun the sparkly bracelet on her wrist. “You kept ignoring me. I did it to make you think of me.”

“So you don’t roll yours that way?”

“No,” she said with a laugh.

He tilted his head to the side. “It worked.”

She grinned. “I know.”

Even though he didn’t turn to look at her, his lips curved as he continued driving, and a comfortable silence followed. She watched the office buildings as they passed by, awed by their shiny exteriors and manicured lawns.

“That one is mine.” Khải pointed at a building that was blue glass walls and large white letters on the top that read DMSoft.

She sat up straighter in her chair and inspected it with interest. “Which floor has your office?”

“The top. I share it with others.”

“Like a boss,” she said with a teasing smile, imagining him crammed in a tiny closet while the important people had all the windows.

He aimed a funny smile at her. “Something like that.”

“Lots of the Phils are bosses. One thought I was his employee,” she said for lack of anything better to say.

An unusual stillness settled over Khải before he asked, “Did you hear back from the last two?”

“One of them.”

“It was a no?”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “Do I look like a Schumacher?”

He considered her pensively before focusing on the road again. “Possibly.”

“Maybe these are good for shoemaking,” she said, holding her hands out and grimacing at them. “So ugly.”

“What do you mean?”

She flashed an uncomfortable smile at him and crossed her arms to hide her hands, but he held his palm out.

“Let me see,” he said.

“You’re driving.”

He pulled on her arm until she relented. Instead of inspecting her hand, however, he brought her fist to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I don’t care what these hands do as long as they’re yours.”

It was silly — he was no poet — but his words made her eyes sting with tears. When he put his hand back on the gearshift, she rested hers on top of his. It wasn’t a pretty hand by any means, but it was small compared to his. Did people think they made a good-looking couple?

She relaxed against her seat and watched him on and off for the rest of the drive, recognizing the emotion bursting in her heart. It had been creeping up on her, growing bigger every day, and there was no denying it now. When you felt this way about someone, you didn’t keep secrets from them. No matter how scared she was, she was telling him everything tonight.

• • •

Attending a wedding in a tuxedo and bare feet was a first for Khai. He couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something — his shoes — but Esme appeared charmed. She dug her toes into the sand like a kid as they walked hand in hand across the beach toward the white folding chairs and wedding altar arranged before the water. She wore that same shapeless black dress again, but she was still so pretty she scrambled his brain. It was her smile. She was happy. All was right in the world.

“Only twenty people?” she asked.

There was a brief pause as he shifted his focus from her loveliness to her words. “Yeah, they wanted it small. Stella doesn’t like crowds.” Just like him. “Do you like big weddings?” He’d give Esme an enormous wedding if she wanted, but something like this was more his style. With less sand.

“Small or big, anything is good.” Esme lifted her shoulders in an indifferent way, but then her eyes sparkled as she said, “The flowers, dress, and cake are the fun part.”

He nodded and immediately committed those items to memory. If she agreed to marry him, they’d go to town on flowers, dresses, and cake. Flowers by the truckload. Couture wedding gown. Ten cakes, a hundred, for all he cared. As long as she said yes. Dammit, his stomach was all knotted up.

“They don’t need to be like this,” she added with a smile. “These look expensive.” She pointed to the giant bouquets of white roses, orchids, and lilies decorating the outskirts of the seating area. “Your cousin spent a lot of money on these.”

He scanned the flowers and things. “I guess so.”

“I can arrange flowers myself. I know how.” But then she bit her lip and brushed the long hair away from her face. “I can make my dress, too. I don’t know how to make cake, but I can learn.” Her green eyes met his, looking vulnerable. “I can make everything nice — but not expensive.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t have to make everything herself unless she wanted to. He didn’t care if the wedding was expensive. It wasn’t like he planned to get married over and over. Just once was enough. He would never want anyone other than Esme. His addiction was very specific.

“Here, here, Precious Girl and my son,” his mom said, coming toward them in a black aó dài with bright blue flowers along the front. Without the added height of shoes, the white silk pants accompanying her dress dragged in the sand, and she yanked at them impatiently. “I never thought I’d go to a wedding without shoes. It’s a different experience. Do you two have news for me?”

Esme’s hand tightened on his, and she glanced at him for a second before she averted her eyes. “Not yet, Cô Nga. We still need to talk.”

“I was thinking after dinner would be a good time,” he told Esme.

Esme nodded and flashed a small smile at him. “That sounds good.”

His mom considered their joined hands thoughtfully. “Do what you need, but before you leave the wedding, you two need to talk to me.”

“We will, Cô Nga,” Esme said.

His mom nodded, appeased. “Enjoy the wedding, ha?” With that she went to chat with his sister, aunts, and cousins.

Khai and Esme were wandering toward the seats when Michael appeared, clasped Khai’s hand, and gave him a one-armed hug. He looked like he’d walked off a runway in his three-piece tux, even without shoes on.

“So glad you made it,” Michael said. He smiled, but his motions were abrupt and jumpy, his breathing tight. He had to be nervous. Like Khai was. Except Michael’s woman had already said yes. What was there for him to be nervous about?

“Are you okay?” Khai asked.

“Yeah, I’m great. Did I tell you I’m glad you made it? Because I am. Stella really likes you.” Michael’s gaze landed on Esme, and his lips curved into a crooked grin. “You must be Esme. Happy to finally meet you.” He shook Esme’s hand, and she grinned back with a dazed expression.

Great, she was falling under Michael’s spell even though he was getting married within the hour. Damn Michael and his cursed good looks.

“Happy to meet you. Stella is a lucky woman,” Esme said, beaming her fantastic Esmeness at him and speaking English to everyone but Khai.

Michael tried to smile but it turned into a gulp for air as he shook out his hands and squared his shoulders. “Thanks for saying that. I’ve never been this nervous. I’m so lost over her if she doesn’t show up, I’m going to …” His words trailed off as he focused on a group of silhouettes in the distance, and his face went lovesick. He squeezed Khai’s shoulder without looking at him. “You guys have a seat. It’s starting.”

Everyone hurried to sit, and the talking settled down. Esme practically vibrated with excitement. “Is Stella really pretty? Your cousin is so …” A dreamy look took over her face, and Khai was certain she’d say handsome. What she said instead was worse. “He’s so in love.”

Love. Khai’s guts tied themselves in a big knot, and he forcibly reminded himself he was doing the right thing. She wanted a green card. He could get her one. This marriage would benefit both of them — for three years.

A guitar started playing a cover of a pop song, and Khai watched the ceremony with careful attention. If all went well, he’d be doing this soon. The wedding party walked down the aisle in pairs comprised of Michael’s sisters, Quan, and a bunch of Michael’s friends. Stella appeared in a gauzy white gown, which Michael had to have designed. When her dad gave her a teary smile, she smiled back and kissed his temple before taking his arm and heading toward the altar, where Michael waited, watching her with that lovesick look from before multiplied by a thousand. His eyes were even reddened like he was on the verge of tears. As Stella crossed the sand, her gaze never wavered from him. Whatever Michael felt for her, she reciprocated fully.

Girl loves boy loves girl.

As the two lovers exchanged vows and kissed, the sun dove into the horizon, and the sky blazed over the ocean. It was a magical time. The camera flashed numerous times, a dozen cell phones glowed, no babies cried. The people in their small crowd wiped at their tears, Esme included, and Khai felt like an impostor at life.

Until Esme squeezed his hand to get his attention, pressed a surprise kiss to his lips, and then smiled at him. If they weren’t in public, he would have yanked her close and kissed her until she melted. He knew how to do that now. As it was, he simply devoured her with his eyes, wanting her with the full force of his out-of-control addiction, but judging from the way her pupils dilated, she didn’t mind.

He was leaning toward her to kiss her despite everything when everyone stood up to watch as Michael and Stella strode past. Staff from the nearby hotel guided them to a garden for a relaxed cocktail hour. He and Esme shared a Sex on the Beach while everyone ate hors d’oeuvres and chitchatted. She had absolutely no alcohol tolerance, and after only a few sips she was leaning into him and giving him the look that experience had taught him meant take me to bed and have your way with me. That look was one of the best things in the whole fucking world.