CHAPTER FOUR

The jet glided onto the runway of National Airport just before sunset. Zhan quaked all over as he stepped off the steps and onto the tarmac. In the distance, the town's lights were already coming on, twinkling like fireflies.

A wind swept across the open area, whipping his dress between his legs There was a slight chill to it, but Zhan embraced it, opening his arms & breathing deep. Since they were going to pretend,Zhan had started to dress up as a woman. The China they had just left behind had been unbearably hot, and Zhan felt like a new person just being out of the city.

"It's amazing here," he squealed.

Yibo laughed, the first sign of pleasure he'd seen from him since he'd gotten the phone call last week.

"The airport? Ah, wait until you see the landmarks my love.Then you will be amazed."

Every muscle in Zhan froze, save for his heart, which doubled its speed. My love? He had never - absolutely never - called him anything like that before.

He glanced over at him, but he was already looking away. Perhaps he was embarrassed as well? Certainly, he hadn't meant to call him his love. It must have been a slip of the tongue, brought on by some sort of nostalgia for his homeland.

"Here comes our car," Yibo said, nodding his head at a sleek black BMW heading their way. He still wasn't looking at him.

Zhan turned, craning his head to look back through the jet's doorway.

"Did you get your briefcase? Damn it, I forgot it in there. Sorry."

"Zhan. This is a vacation, remember? I don't need my briefcase. And for the next five days you're not my assistant."

'You're not my assistant'. Zhan had always dreamed of hearing him say something like that; of getting lost in the meaning behind those kinds of words. If he was ever going to not be his assistant, then what would he be?

His friend. His lover. His pretend fiancé. Don't forget that, Xiao.It's all pretend. Next week you'll be his assistant again. He swallowed hard.

"Right. That's right. I'm your fiancé. I almost forgot for a minute there."

The driver from the car stepped forward, popping the truck then grabbing their suitcases. Yibo opened the backseat door, motioning for Zhan to climb in. Self-consciously, he did. So they were already getting into character for the week? All right. Groovy. He could do that.

"Thanks," he smiled at him as he slipped into the car.

Once the driver was done with the luggage he and Yibo both climbed in, Yibo sitting in the back next to Xiao.

The driver asked something in french, Yibo responded, and then they were off.

Dark fell as the car wound through the town, past beautiful square white houses and lively bars. Zhan rolled his window down to breathe in the fresh air. It was unexplainable, but he felt right at home.

After what seemed too soon, the car paused in front of a wrought iron gate. The driver pressed an intercom near it, and a voice came over the crackling system. Yibo leaned forward to answer and, after another short moment, the gate swung open. The car moved up a steep drive that was surrounded on both sides by beautiful and lush foliage. In front of them, a house appeared, looming like a stoic monolith.

Zhan swallowed hard. He knew how rich Yibo's family was, of course, but actually being here, now, in the lap of luxury... It was a little intimidating.

The car slid around the circular driveway, stopping just in front of the porch. What only seemed to be a second later, the driver was opening Zhan's door, and it was that time. Time to climb out of the car and see if he was really as good an actor as he hoped. Not that pretending to be in love with Yibo was going to be hard. He didn't have to fake that part at all.

But to lie and talk about an imaginary courthouse ceremony that he and Yibo were supposedly having in a couple of months? That might be pushing it. "You'll do fine," Yibo said, sliding up to him and taking his hand. Sparks shot between their palms, and Zhan had to steady himself. They'd never held hands before. His grip was gentle but firm. He resisted the urge to stroke his palm with his thumb.

"Thanks."

He wanted to say more - maybe ask for some conversation pointers to get him through dinner, but the front door of the mansion was flung open. Standing in the doorway was a tall, languid woman. She was dressed all in white and her skin was as smooth as cocoa butter.

"Fils," she cooed, holding her arms open. "My boy."

"Mama," Yibo responded, moving to her and giving in to the embrace.

Zhan stood by awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He wished he'd been prepared for how beautiful Yibo's mother was - or for how majestic the family home was. He felt so plain standing next to all of the extravagance.

" Let me see your blushing bride," the woman said, turning from Yibo to take in Zhan.

"Nice to meet you," Zhan answered, offering his hand. "Xiao Lifen."(got the time to prepare for a name)

A limp shake and a quizzical smile were all that Zhan was met with. Was Yibo's mom confused about something?

"Well aren't you... what is the mandarin word? ...Cute."

No. He wasn't confused about anything. He was being downright aggressive. Or was he? Xiao had just gotten here, after all, and Yibo's mother didn't know him at all. Beside them, Yibo cleared his throat.

"Oh, Yibo," his mom said, turning back to him.

"Everyone is waiting. Dinner was fifteen minutes ago."

"Our plane was a little late."

His voice had that hard edge to it again - the one he'd noticed on the plane. The initial warmth he'd exuded when his mother had opened the door was all gone. Maybe he'd noticed the older woman's callousness as well.

She waved her wrist, dismissing the issue. "Never mind. Right this way."Zhan glanced at Yibo, but he was looking straight ahead, his jaws set. They followed his mother in through a massive foyer, then down a hall that exited into a courtyard garden. Colorful flowers and tall, wispy trees filled the space. "Your home is so beautiful, Mrs. Wang," Zhan offered.

He wanted to get on the woman's good side, but his compliment was also genuine. Back in China, if a townhouse had a patch of lawn that was big enough to stick a grill and a few chairs on it then it was considered luxury. This garden seemed to go on and on. It was as if they had just stepped out of a house and into a jungle, with nothing but a narrow stone pathway to guide them.

"Thank you," she cooed. "I'm sure it's much more than you're used to."

'Much more than you're used to'? Damn. Zhan glanced at Yibo. He was actually hearing this, wasn't he?

'Sorry' he mouthed, surprising him. He hardly ever apologized for anything.

Abruptly, the pathway stopped, the flowers and bushes becoming fewer and more in between. A long patch of grass stretched in front of them, and on it was a white table-clothed dinner table, candles covering its surface. At least ten people, mostly middle-aged, sat at the table, and they were all staring at the newcomers.

"Yibo!" a heavy-set man boomed, rising from his seat. He strode forward to shake Yibo's hand. "Dad... This is my fiancé, Xiao Lifeng. Lifeng, this is my father, Wang Xichen." Yibo put his hand on the small of Zhan's back, drawing him forward. "Nice to meet you, Sir," he smiled. All of these people were still looking at him, and none of them had pleasant looks on their faces. In fact, as a group, he would say they were most likely displeased with what they saw.

Well as He disguised as a woman, He was confident that he will looked like one since He research the latest trend on internet few days before they depart. From wearing a wig, casual clothes and makeup, surely confident hundred percent.

"A lovely girl," he nodded.

"Nice to meet you."

He didn't smile, so he knew he wasn't actually pleased to meet him, but hey - at least he was trying. That was more than his wife had done.

"Have a seat," he continued, pulling a chair out.

"Yibo, we have much to talk about. Here, you sit here." He sat, and Xiao moved towards the empty chair next to his, but Mr. Wang stopped him.

"Ms. Xiao, there is a chair down for you at the end. Yibo's grandmother would be very honored if you would get to know her."

Zhan glanced towards the end of the table, then back at Yibo. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he could also tell that he wasn't going to speak up. Fine. Whatever, he told himself. They weren't actually a couple anyway. So it shouldn't hurt him that he didn't get to sit next to him. It's all a charade, Xiao. Remember? Yes, it was. But that didn't change the fact that the way this family was treating him hurt. Still, he was here on a simple mission - to pretend to be Yibo's fiancé. He hadn't promised him a warm french reception.

This was just another one of those crazy lengths he went to as his personal assistant... A personal assistant who was secretly in love with him. Gritting his teeth and forcing a smile, he moved towards the other end of the table.