The Rules Series

driver. Mine narrowed slightly as they met his in the review mirror.
“S–sorry, Ms. Lee-Xiou.” He blinked several times before responding. “Another car cut me off.” My eyes, like a tiger’s, didn’t soften at his explanation. I’d never been good at masking my frustration and wasn’t going to start now—especially with the help.
Lawyers as of late, made me want to wrap my hands around their necks and squeeze until their beady little eyes rolled into the backs of their heads. This one was no different. To say that my patience was at an end was more than an understatement. If he knew what was good for him, this lawyer had better get me some results pretty damn quick. Just because we slept together didn’t mean he could slack on the job. I adjusted my phone and put it back up to my ear. “I don’t understand why getting through the American red tape is so difficult for you. This is your country. Based on your reputation, you’re supposed to know the system like the back of your hand.”
He spouted more drivel. “It would be more helpful if you could be in Washington for the inquiry on Thursday. Explanations coming from you versus me would be more authentic.”
“That’s in two days. I have too much going on to make room for that. Look, we have people in the US Congress on our payroll just like Braylee Hinsdale does, so what’s the problem? This RICO nonsense should have been wrapped up well before my father’s mourning period ended.”
The mere sound of his voice making excuse after excuse was sending my blood pressure through the roof. I couldn’t listen to his hemming and hawing for another second. After another explanation, I cut him off. “Stop it. Just stop. You are paid far too well to bullshit me. Don’t mistake my slight accent for ignorance, or the fact we slept together as a reason I won’t fire your ass, Mr. Hargrove. This is the deal. You need to have a game plan mapped out for me by the time I’m done with the reading of Chang’s will this afternoon. I’m telling you now; I don’t care whom you have to bribe or what you have to do.” He needed to understand just how serious I was so I dropped my voice to a dangerously low level. “Get. It. Done.”
I ended the call and threw my phone into my purse. Why must I always have to do my job and everyone else’s, and why must everyone continuously insult me with their foolishness? This should be a day of celebration, but it was quickly turning into one big headache. Just like this meeting with Mr. Xei. If I were a man, I wouldn’t even have to meet with him. On the strengths of my families’ name alone, this deal would have been done. Instead, I was on my way to meet with him on the first day after emerging from mourning. If I didn’t need his American connections and his vote on The Family council, I would have told him what he could do with his business. Why must the elderly always hold on to such ridiculous traditions?
When my driver pulled up to the valet of the restaurant, he quickly got out to open my door. He extended an impressively strong arm to help me exit the car. Strong or not—sexy or not—it was too late to be worrying about impressing me. I made a mental note to fire him as soon as I got back home.
The glare of the sun had me squinting to see. The sunshine wasn’t so bad after I put on my mirrored sunglasses. I’ve always liked the way sunlight felt on my skin. It never bothered me, but those cockroaches also known as the Paparazzi hanging around everywhere did. They were going to drive me to drink. I actually did quite a bit of that but more than usual lately. They were out of control and had been utterly ridiculous since my father passed away. The flashing lights from their cameras would blind me worse than staring directly into the sun at high noon. The press here in Guilin was nothing like America, but they were giving them a run for their money crawling out from everywhere. The intense scrutiny of my life had become more than a little cumbersome; especially now that I was considered one of the world’s richest and most eligible women in the world.
My family’s wealth covered a multitude of perceived wrongs. Even me being considered a xiǎo hēi guǐ, or little black devil, because I was the bi-product of a Creole woman from New Orleans, Louisiana, and a powerful Chinese man.
I stood up straight allowing the cameramen to get their money shots. Over the last month or so, we developed an unspoken rule. If I let them get a few pictures, they would give me some space, and a little privacy at whatever venue I attended.
I made sure to put on a show. I ran my hands down the front of my red pencil skirt as I smoothed out non-existent wrinkles and shook out my loose dark curls that draped over and hung well past my shoulders. Once I thought they had enough pictures, I promptly ended the faux fashion shoot and went inside the restaurant. It was time to close this deal.

Chapter 6
I’ve been here a million times, but I wasn’t being seated at my usual table. I was being ushered over to Mr. Xie’s table. I’d respect my elders for now, but I won’t be cowered into being considered less than because influential people like him hadn’t