He laughed—she’d made him laugh—and the sound was deep and rich and beautiful. She wanted to hear him laugh more. A lot more. “That’s funny. They’re companies, not people.”

“Companies have people.”

“Companies don’t have feelings.”

“If companies have people, and people have feelings, then companies have feelings.”

“Pretty sure transfer pricing has nothing to do with feelings,” Vy said as she sent her a skeptical look, and Esme’s face heated with embarrassment.

But Kh?i surprised her by saying, “I like your reasoning, though. I can’t argue with the transitive property.” Then he grinned, and she realized it was the first real smile she’d seen on him. The corners of his eyes wrinkled, and dimples formed on either side of his face. Too man-beautiful. His gaze was direct and went on far too long, but she didn’t mind. For this moment in

time, he belonged to her. Well, he belonged to Esme in Accounting. Real Esme wasn’t smart.

“There is no tax deduction for bribery in Vi?t Nam,” she added, remembering he’d been interested in this their first day together. This was another thing she’d looked up, but once she’d understood, she’d gotten angry at the entire concept. “I hate bribery.”

He tilted his head to the side. “That’s surprising to me. In a lot of countries, that’s just a part of business.”

“And what about people who can’t pay bribes? No business for them.” That was how the rich stayed rich, and the poor stayed poor unless they cheated, stole, got amazingly lucky, or . . . married.

“You’re right.” Kh?i looked at her in a new way then, and it made her warm all over. That was respect. For Esme in Accounting or the person beneath the lies?

She searched her mind for more things she might say to make him keep looking at her this way, but he worked at his collar again like it was choking him, took a gulp of ice water, and cleared his throat, distracted now. “There is something missing at this wedding.”

She pointed to the empty chair next to her. “This person is missing.”

“That’s Quan’s seat. He told me he can’t make it. That’s not it.” But he stared at the empty chair for a good minute, saying nothing. Something was wrong. She could tell by the way he repeatedly flipped through the pages of his book with his thumb on the corner. Fliiip. Fliiip. Fliiip. She’d never seen him fidget like this.

What could possibly be missing from this perfect wedding?

Waitstaff served salad followed by an entree consisting of a hunk of bloody meat and a lobster’s tail. Where was the delicious lobster head and all the chewy legs? She was stabbing the lobster meat with her fork and prying the shell off with her spoon—people acted like they’d die if they touched the food with their fingers—when the bride, groom, and entire wedding party approached their table. Everyone stood up to toast the new couple, and Kh?i pressed a champagne flute into her hands.

Vy and all the cousins held their glasses up. “Congratulations, Derrick and Sara.”

They drank champagne and awwwed when the couple kissed. As the sweet bubbles fizzed on Esme’s tongue, she peered at Kh?i over the rim of her glass. He’d exchanged his champagne flute for his book and was flipping the pages again. Fliiip. Fliiip. Fliiip.

Did he still think something was missing?

Sara, the bride, separated from her husband and approached Kh?i. She’d changed into a red wedding aó dài with gold embroidered dragons and phoenixes, but Esme missed the white wedding gown with its billowing skirts. If she ever married, she’d wear her wedding gown the whole time, even for dancing. Forget tradition.

“Thanks for coming. I know you don’t like weddings,” Sara said.

Kh?i continued flipping the pages of his book. “No problem.”

Sara smiled wryly. “I remember how when we went to weddings when we were little, you and Andy used to hide in the bathroom during the dancing and play video games.”

His fingers froze on the book, and he went unnaturally still. “That’s what it is. It’s Andy.”

Sara drew in a quick breath. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been wondering all night what’s wrong with this wedding,” Kh?i said. “It’s Andy. He should be here.”

After a second of suspended belief, his cousin’s face collapsed, and fat teardrops tracked down her face, ruining her carefully applied makeup. “Why would you—What can I—How can I—”

She covered her mouth and fled the room. The groom looked at Kh?i for the longest moment like there were things he wanted to say, but in the end, he raced after his wife without a word. All the people from their table stared at each other, stunned speechless.

“Find me when you’re ready to leave.” Kh?i tapped his book against his thigh once and turned to leave.

Esme stepped toward him. “I’ll go with—”