That night I went back to the restaurant where the Chinese girls ate before they went to work in the hallway. The Russian girl was sitting in the same corner.
“Hi,” I said. “Can I sit?”
“Sit.” She smiled up at me. “Yes, sit.”
“You’re here again.” I scanned the menu. “You want something beside noodles and orange juice?”
She shook her head. “It’s good. You want some?”
“Nah, I never eat the night before I travel.”
“You leaving? Changing hotels? That’s good. You don’t want to be at the Nam Lo.”
“I’m going to Shanghai. My uncle died.” Might as well put the story out in more than one place, though I felt bad using her.
“Sorry.” She shrugged. “You’re a nice man. I will miss you.”
“And you’re a nice girl with beautiful eyes. I wish you’d go home.”
“I can’t. I have a contract.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“I already told you, a thousand dollars.”
“How many other girls does your boss control?”
“You want someone else?” She looked hurt. “All right. There are eight girls altogether. For a few days we were nine, but now it’s back to eight again.”
“Someone went home?”
“Who knows? We never got a good look at her. She was older than the rest of us, showed up suddenly. My boss put her in the Nam Lo for one night. I don’t even think she was there the whole time. She didn’t work, that’s for sure, and then she was gone. I saw her from the back, just briefly. She was blond. When she left, my boss told me to clean out the room she had been in. There was a small suitcase full of clothes and a razor. Otherwise, it was as if she hadn’t been there.”
“But she had been there.”
“Yes, but the room didn’t feel right. It didn’t smell right.”
I stood up to go. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”
She stood and kissed me lightly on the cheek. “Make sure it’s before April. My contract is up then, and I’m never coming back.”