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The interruption was timely, I guess, from her point of view. We ordered our ice teas and took up the menus to scan for what appealed to us.Menus down. She folded her hands in front of her and gazed purposefully at me. “We need to get along, David. This endless cold war we’re engaged in isn’t useful,” she said.“Why?” I said.“Why what?” she said.“Why do we have to get along? You’ve gotten Jenna to almost write me off. I know it’s you. She doesn’t even want to come to my place anymore, that’s obvious,” I said. “You’ve got her brainwashed, you and my asshole ex-brother. The way I see it, you’ve won. Be happy.”“Goddamn it, David, we have not brainwashed or tried to brainwash Jenna. You are right about one thing though; she really isn’t thrilled to go to your place anymore. But it’s you not us that is causing her reticence! Get that, big guy. It’s your doing!”“Oh yeah, right,” I said. “You’re not plying her with an endless parade of goodies. You’re not taking her places I could never. ’Easy for you to say, I thought. I'm the one who’s going to dressed uplike a princess and be the hostess of a party for a group of friends andcontacts of one of Bangkok’s most powerful men. Actually, come to thinkof it, Nin would love to do it.In my admittedly limited experience of luxury shopping, it's my theorythat the price of an item in a shop rises in inverse proportion to thenumber of items on display in the shop. A rail ran along one side of theroom, but held only one thing. A single garment bag hung in the centreof the rail, a spot light trained on it as if to say, ‘I'm the star ofthis show’. I could tell it was my dress as I could see the red of theskirt through the plastic. Laid out on a bench to one side was thecorset and panty set together with a packet of stockings. Beneath thedress lay a pair of red shoes with what looked like a four-inch heel. Iimmediately felt an overwhelming desire to flee and hide myself awayfrom whatever I had agreed to do. Nin jabbed me in my side.
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