A Girlfriend Experience

It was 5:20 in the afternoon. Kung was playing with her iPhone when her computer beeped; a Skype call. She trained the mouse on Accept, clicked and the callers face appeared. She noted he was young and good looking. “Thai Lovers, good afternoon,” she said with a smile. “My name is Kung. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Kung,” he said, returning her smile. “I’m Julian. I’ll be coming to Thailand in February for a month, maybe longer. I’ll need a nice companion.”

“You want for month, like girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Then you need the girlfriend experience, our GFE package.”

He grinned. “Okay. But with a ladyboy, a lovely ladyboy.”

“That is no problem. We have many beautiful ladyboys as well as girls. You have visited our website?”

“Not yet.”

“The URL is ThaiLovers.com. Please visit and join our membership. On the site you can view the girls we have available for serious relationship, marriage, GFE, and of course, the ladyboys.”

“Ok, Kung. I will do this and get back to you. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Kung smiled. The man disconnected. She wondered about him. Why would such a handsome guy, who could have any girl he wanted, want to rent a ladyboy? What a crazy world it is. She went back to her phone, and the game she was playing.

“At 5:30 the desk phone buzzed. She picked up the receiver. “Thai Lovers. Good evening.”

“Hello, Kung. Ying speaking. Is Ricky there?”

“No, he is not.” Kung snapped. She didn’t like Ying.

“Please tell him I called.”

Kung went back to her game.

At 6:30 pm, she stopped playing, put away the phone and closed her computer. She tidied her desk and was preparing to leave when the door opened and Ricky entered.

“Sawadee khrap, Kung.”

“Sawadee kha, Ricky. I’m just leaving.”

“Busy day?”

“Yes. A good day. Many new members. Your girlfriend called.”

“Who?”

“Ying.”

Ricky smiled. “Kung. Ying is not my girlfriend. She is a girlfriend.” He went over to the coffee table and prepared a cup. Kung watched him. She liked Ricky and considered herself in love with him. Being tall, slim and handsome, he was everything she wanted in a boyfriend. He was always, laughing, happy and never angry. He was also farang. And what Kung wanted most was a luk krueng baby, a child that only a farang could give her. And in her mind, Ricky was the perfect boy for the job. But in almost a year, despite her best efforts, he’d never made a single pass. She took up her make-up kit and put on lipstick using a tiny mirror.

Ricky carried over two cups and joined her. “Did Tuk come in today?”

“Yes. She left early for dental appointment.”

“So, tell me off your busy day.”

“We have sixty seven new members.”

“Farang?”

“Not all. Some Japanese. Also we have eight definite GFE bookings; one other asking for GFE with ladyboy.”

“That’s terrific.” Ricky grinned and drank coffee.

Kung reached for her coffee. “Soon, Thai Lovers will be the biggest dating site in Thailand.”

“Could very well be, Kung. We’re doing great right now.”

Kung stood and took up her handbag. “Okay. I leave now?”

“You’re going partying?”

“I’m meeting Fon for gin khao.”

“Then partying?”

“Of course. Want to come?”

“I’d love to. But I’ll be busy awhile. I’ll call you if I can come.”

She smiled. “I go.”

“Have a good evening, Kung.”

She went out, her heels tapping a rhythm on the tiles as she walked to the elevator.

Ricky went into his office. At a small bar, he fixed himself a Jack Daniels whisky over ice and a glass of Cola. He sat down at his desktop computer.

This was the part of his day that he enjoyed most: doing the accounts. Checking out the day’s activities, interrogating the profiles of new members, reading the testimonials, taking care of business. He had six new requests for banner ad space; that was good. Thai Lovers made serious revenue from adverts for Bangkok restaurants, night clubs and bars. And other, less savory, joints.

At 7:30, he was finishing up when a Skype call interrupted. Dark blond hair cut short, the caller wore a turtle neck sweater, tinted glasses. Around thirty, he was sitting at a desk, arms folded, he looked cool, in control of things. He reminded Ricky of the movie actor Steve McQueen. Ricky smiled. “Thai Lovers. Good evening.”

“Hi. I spoke to a young lady a while ago.”

“That was Kung. She’s gone for the day. I’m Ricky. Maybe I can help you.”

“Okay. My name's Julian, Julian D’Amour. As I told Kung, I’ll be spending time in Thailand, starting in February. I’ll be mixing business with pleasure. And I’ll need a companion, a ladyboy companion.”

“Have you checked out our site?”

“Yes. I also filled in a membership form with my details. I also checked out your ladyboys.”

“Did any appeal to you?”

“No, they didn’t, not a bit. They’re all pre-op she males. I’m seeking a post-op transsexual.”

“We have them.”

“I found four on your site, none of whom I fancied.”

“Well. Julian, you should know that most of our clientele want pre-op ladyboys. That’s why there are so few post-ops with us. But there are many in the business. I could look around for you if you like.”

“That’s fine. My criteria are these: post-op, no taller than five feet three and no heavier than one hundred and ten pounds. And she needs to be exceptionally feminine and very attractive.”

Ricky nodded. Why in fuck don’t you hire a damned girl and have done with it, buddy. He smiled and said, “You should know that as a rule, ladyboys are taller and heavier than ladies. Finding one to match your criteria will require a little work. But I’ll get on it. Give me a few days.”

“Sure.”

“And Julian, I do have some stunning Thai girls if. . .”

“Not interested. Been there, done that. I have glamour chicks coming out of my ears.”

“Okay.” Ricky stifled a laugh. “You’re American, right?”

“You got it. You’ll find all you need to know in my profile.”

“I’ll read it.” D’Amour was sitting before a wide picture window which showed what appeared to be mountains in the distance and aroused Ricky’s curiosity. “Not that it matters, Julian, but where are you calling from?”

Julian D’Amour placed his hands behind his head, leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Snowmass in Aspen, Colarado. It’s a fine winter’s morning here. We had lots of lovely fresh snow overnight. It’s 6:40 in the morning and minus fifteen Celsius. And I’m about to get ready for some early morning skiing. Maybe find me some good powder. I have a home here, right in the thick of it. That’s where I am.”

Ricky smiled. “Lucky guy. For the record, in Bangkok it’s 7:40 in the evening, thirteen hours ahead of you. And it’s thirty-two Celsius, hot and humid.”

D’Amour laughed.

“Okay, Julian. I’ll get working on your case and get right back to you. Take care.”

“Ciao.”

Ricky found D’Amour’s profile on Thai Lovers site. And in less than a minute he knew that Julian D’Amour was special, someone way out of the ordinary. He went onto Google and discovered more. The American was Ivy League stuff, from a top drawer family. His father, Dominic was a billionaire who headed a multinational conglomerate headquartered in Denver, Colarado. This boy was high born. Educated with private tutors, attending high-standing international schools in Switzerland, holding a Yale business degree. A natural athlete, he was an excellent tennis player, a pilot with advanced ratings, and a blue water sailor. He owned an ocean going sailboat and had his own plane. And now he wanted a post-op ladyboy with the looks of a film star. Ricky smiled and shook his head. He went to the bar and fixed a Jack Daniels. Back at his desk he began thinking about Julian D’Amour and his ladyboy fantasy.

Ricky had met and known hundreds of ladyboys, many post-op. But none had all what D’Amour was after. One had been close. Zena, a post-op he’d encountered in Casanova’s, the ladyboy hangout in Nana Plaza. Zena was small, with a beautiful face, a lovely body and legs that were superb. But with chicken shit where her brains should be, she walked, and talked like an outrageous drag queen. Ricky took a long sip of whisky and smiled at the recollection.

What D’Amour was seeking was a high concept sexual fantasy that didn’t exist. It was a fantasy shared by many men to meet and engage an incredibly lovely Oriental woman who had once been a fully functioning male. But, Ricky decided, he’d give it a go. He took up his mouse and began surfing the Bangkok ladyboy escort websites.

After an hour, he’d had enough and shut down the computer. He’d try again tomorrow, but it looked like Mister D’Amour’s criteria would not be matched. Julian should bite the bullet and try a lovely girl of which Thailand had plenty. And Ricky knew some real beauties: Ying Pantip, for example.

Ying was devastating. Easily the most beautiful girl Ricky had ever met. And she was available. But as she was a woman, D’Amour would reject her. The crazy thing was, if Ying were tranny, he’d go for her. But what if he didn’t know? What if he believed Ying was a post-op ladyboy, a true transsexual who’d made the transition with perfection. That would really blow his mind. Ricky laughed, softly, and fixed another drink. He called Ying using the office landline phone. She answered on the second ring.

“Are you still in the office, Ricky?”

“You know I am. Had I used my cell, you’d have asked, ‘Where are you?’ And if I’d said, ‘At the office’, you wouldn’t believe me. So I used the landline.”

She giggled, pleasantly. “You are working, or playing with Kung?”

“I never play with Kung. Business and pleasure should never be mixed. I am working, and I’m alone. You called earlier?”

“Yes. I wondered if you had anything for me.”

“Such as?”

“A nice interesting man to spend time with me.”

“You mean a nice rich interesting man to spend time with you.”

“Rich would help.”

“Yes it would. So, you’re getting restless. Perhaps I do have someone. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m hungry.”

Ricky checked his watch; 8:50. “Meet me at the usual place at 9:45.”

“The Landmark Hotel lobby. Ok. Where we go?”

“I suggest Oscar Bistro.”

“Where is that?”

“It’s on Soi Eleven, opposite the Landmark.”

“Ok. I see you Ricky.” Ricky finished his drink. From a wardrobe, he selected clothes, underwear and his toilet bag. He went out and down the hall to a bathroom. He stripped and took a shower that was cold and invigorating, He toweled down, dressed and went back to the office, his mind on Ying Pantip and the role he hoped she would play in the little ruse he was concocting. At his computer, he printed off the profile of Julian D’Amour along with photographs, and went out.

Ying was waiting for him in the lobby of the Landmark Hotel. She was, as always, dressed superbly. Ricky kissed her cheek and took her hand. “Let’s go.”

Oskar Bistro was well filled. The packed crowd round the bar itself was the usual Bangkok meat-market of young Thai women and foreign men. Surveying the bar crowd, Ricky noted the men who hunted here were well dressed and a cut above the white trash sex-hounds that worked the bars of Soi Cowboy and Nana Plaza and gave Bangkok such a bad name. Ricky guided Ying toward a table. A waiter attended them with menus. Ricky ordered two Mai Tai’s. Ying studied her menu. “What are you having, Ricky?”

“Caesar Salad with Salmon.”

“It is good?”

“The best in Bangkok, in my opinion. You’ll like it.”

“Okay, I will have it.”

Their drinks arrived, and Ricky placed their order.

“Many of them at the bar, they look at us.”

“They look at you. You’re the eye candy.”

“What is eye candy?”

“Eye candy is something lovely to look at; a feast for the eyes. It could be a beautiful car, or a lovely sailboat. But most often, it’s a lovely woman.”

“Or a beautiful man,” she said, smiling. She sipped her Mai Tai.

Ricky handed her the photographs of Julian D’Amour. “Like this guy?”

She picked them up. “Yes, he is handsome, very good looking. He is eye candy. Who is he?”

“His name is Julian. Julian D’Amour. It’s a French name.”

“Yes, I know. D’Amour means of love, as in affaire d’amour. He’s French?”

“No, he’s American. He probably has French in his background.”

Ying smiled and said, “Tell me off him.”

Ricky handed her a folded sheet of paper. “That’s his profile. Read it when you’re home. He called me today. He’s coming to Thailand in February. He’ll be here around a month, mixing business with pleasure. He wants a companion.”

Ying laughed softly. “He wants the Girlfriend Experience.”

“Yes, but with a difference.”

She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

“He wants a beautiful ladyboy.”

“Wow?” Ying smiled and shook her head.

“He doesn’t want a she-male; a chick with a dick. He wants a post-op ladyboy, a transsexual, who’s been, as the Americans put it, “sexually reassigned.”

Ying’s smile broadened.

“She must be small and slim,” Ricky continued, “and very feminine.” He took a sip of Mai Tai. “What Julian wants, doesn’t exist, I know that. He wants a stunning girl who was once a boy. It’s a dream, a fantasy. And he wants me to find her so he can live the fantasy. And I, of course, want to give it to him.”

Ying’s laughed, softly. “Go on.”

Ricky took a long sip of Mai Tai. “The only way I can do it is to deliver him a beautiful lady and convince him she’s a transsexual. Ones he’s got it in his mind she’s transgender, he’ll be fine. It’s all in the mind; his mind. And he’ll pay a lot of money.”

“By beautiful lady, you mean me?”

“Who else? You’re the most beautiful woman I know.”

“Thank you, Ricky.”

Their order came along with a bottle of white wine, and they settled down to the meal. They dined in silence, Ying immersed in thought, Ricky, patient, watching her, both enjoying the food.

Ricky knew Ying well, perhaps better than she knew herself. She was the offspring of a love affair between a young Dutch geologist and a Kanchanaburi school teacher of great beauty, a beauty she’ passed on to Ying. From her father, Ying was gifted with a more prominent nose, eyes of slate grey, a dimpled chin, and two small cheek dimples that appeared only when she smiled.

Following an education at one of Bangkok’s finest international schools, she was on track to attend Edinburgh University Medical School when a light plane carrying twelve geologists and mining engineers, crashed near Bandung, Indonesia, killing all on board, including her father. His loss devastated her. And without his support, without funds, her dream of becoming a doctor ended. She now had to work.

As she was fluent in English, French and Dutch as well as Thai, and using her international school connections, she sought teaching work as a governess among the Thai elites of Bangkok. She was quickly disillusioned. The pay was poor and the hours long. She was treated like an indentured servant, made to live in, her free time controlled. In addition, she suffered constant harassment from male employers behind their wives back. She quit that path, and from then on had little time for Thai men.

Ying was no hooker, or even a good time girl. She was, in Ricky’s eyes, a modern courtesan. She was not on Thai Lovers list of GFE girls. But if a special man applied, Ricky would contact her. Most of the time she would decline, but from time to time she accepted.

“Ying. I believe Julian D’Amour is a very fascinating guy. I think you’ll enjoy a month with him. You’ll travel and have fun.”

“But what if he asks about sex change and things like that.”

“I’ll prime you. I’ll write up a simple story you’ll remember easily. Just realize this; he wants to believe. Read his profile and visit the websites I’ve written down. And then phone me and tell me you’ll do it.”

“I’ll think about it.”

After putting Ying in a taxi, Ricky took another to his place, a simple single storey old house in a quiet lane. He fed his three cats, drank a cold can of beer and went to bed.

It was one fifteen, when his phone buzzed. He came awake and saw Ying’s number. “Good morning, Ying,” he yawned.

“You were sleeping?”

“Would that be unusual at this time?”

“Sorry, Ricky. I should have waited.”

“Yes. Bad news always goes down better after a good breakfast.”

“Bad news?”

“You’re not going to go with it.”

“Oh, no, I am. I want to do it.”

“Really?” Ricky grinned, pushed back the bed-sheets and swung his legs out of bed. “You gave it a lot of thought?”

“Yes, I did. I read his profile and read about him and his family on the websites. He’s cool.”

“And he’ll treat you like a queen.”

“I hope. You will prepare a cover story for me?”

“I’ll do it later today. I’ll email your pics to him and blow him out of his mind.”

Ying laughed. “I will speak with you later, Ricky. Goodnight.”

Ricky closed his phone. In the kitchen he brewed a coffee. He logged on to his laptop. He wrote a short email introducing the lovely Ying Pantip, attached twelve photos of her and sent them to Julian D’Amour.

I was 1:35 Bangkok time, 12:35 pm in Aspen. The ball was now rolling. He smiled, eased back in his chair and savored his coffee. Then he went back to his bed, feeling good about things.

At 6:00, Ricky was up, dressed and enjoying breakfast, when Julian D’Amour called. “Good morning, Ricky. My apologies for the early call,” he sounded breathless.

“No problem, Julian,”

“I just finished my last ski run of a long day. But, hey, I got the pictures of Ying.”

“And what do you think of her?”

“She’s incredible. Absolutely lovely.”

“Well, I’m pleased you like her. She is some lady.”

“Ricky, I need to get home. Let me get back to you in say two-hours. Is that okay with you?”

“It is. I’ll be in my office.”

“Ciao, Ricky.”

At 6:30, Ricky took a bus into the city to his office. Already Bangkok’s streets were alive and bustling, the traffic dense. Office workers pressed on past the night’s human detritus as, under the urging of police officers, the all night street bars were packed away, and plastic chairs and tables piled into waiting trucks and vans. And like cockroaches before light, the last patrons scurried away with their bottles to squat down in shop doorways. Bangkok was shedding its notorious night and embracing the dawn.

In the office, Ricky made coffee, and listened to the BBC World Service on a radio. At 8:00, Julian came through on Skype. He was at his desk by the picture window. “Good morning, Ricky.”

“Good morning, Julian.”

“This lady, Ying,” D’Amour held up her photo. “She an absolute knockout. How did you find her?”

“I worked hard. I followed some leads through contacts. Plus luck.”

“Tell me off her.”

“Ying is Eurasian. Her father was a Dutch geologist, her mother a Thai schoolteacher. She’s very well educated. She was going to study medicine, but her father was killed in an air accident. She’s fluent in English, Dutch and French, as well as Thai of course. She was a fine school athlete. You will like her as a companion. I should add that she finds you very handsome.”

“Great,” D’Amour laughed.

“Would like me to continue looking at others?”

“No. No, definitely not. This is the one.”

“I’m pleased, Julian. She’ll be ready and waiting for you.”

“She’ll need a passport.”

“She has one.”

“Good. I shall email you my full travel itinerary before the weekend. I’ll be staying at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Bangkok, and it’s there she can meet me.”

“I’ll tell her that. Would you like to contact her?”

“No. I want to meet her in the flesh and enjoy a big surprise.”

“That’s fine, Julian.”

“Good day, Ricky.”

“Bye, Julian.”

Ricky sat back, grinning. It was definitely on.

Sharing supper with Ying, Ricky handed her an envelope. “This is his itinerary. He’ll be travelling to Singapore, Hong Kong, Macau, Hanoi, Saigon and Jakarta. That’s just his business trips. He plans on seeing as much as he can of South East Asia. He mentions leasing a sailboat. You’ll have lots of action. You have fun.”

Ying smiled. “I can’t wait.”

“There is, of course, a problem; a unique problem.” He sipped his wine. “Can you guess what it is?”

She shook her head. “Tell me.”

“The problem is your monthlies. Ladyboys and transsexuals don’t menstruate. They don’t have babies. But girls do. Have you considered that?”

“Yes, I thought about it. It’s no problem. I can handle that.”

“Are you sure. Julian will be here a month, perhaps longer.”

“Don’t worry, there are ways.”

“Just be aware of it. So, you’re ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“He arrives Friday night, around 8:00, flying Thai Air from New York. It’s an eighteen hour flight, so he may be a little jet-lagged. He’s booked into the Oriental; he’s probably rented a suite. You are to meet him there. I’ll take you there around 9:00. The main thing is, keep me posted. Any problems, contact me. Need advice, call me. Clear?”

“Clear.” Ying smiled, showing her dimples, and Ricky’s pulse quickened.

During the first week, an excited Ying did as Ricky asked and sent emails with attached photos of her adventures with Julian D’Amour. Then, apart from a brief email from Singapore, he didn’t hear from her for twelve days. He began to worry. As he was playing a ruse, he liked to know all was well.

It was Julian who broke cover with a phone call from the cockpit of a sailboat, an ocean going sloop, on the Andaman Sea. “Hi, Ricky. Were on the Andaman, south west of Phuket, making for Krabi,” he yelled above the sound of wind and rushing water. “I’m teaching Ying to sail.”

“By the sound of things, you’re in heavy weather.”

D’Amour laughed. “We’re in a blow, a strong sou’wester with big swells. But this boat is a big strong girl, so no problem. Ying is at the wheel, in harness, tied in, and as happy as a child in a sandbox. Here she is, Ricky.”

There was a fumbling sound, then Ying came on with a squeal. “Oh Ricky, I’m having so much fun. I was scared at first, now I’m loving it. It’s so fantastic. We’re south of Phuket, heading for Krabi.”

Ricky laughed. “I’m so glad for you. Be careful. And call me.”

“I will. Bye, Ricky.”

Julian came on again. “Okay, Ricky. We have some hard sailing ahead. We’ll talk later. Take care, guy. We’ll be in touch.”

Ricky grinned. He felt happy. And Julian D’Amour was happy too. Living out his ladyboy fantasy, big time. And Thai Lovers was making money and growing fast.

The following week, Ricky was home, watering the plants in his yard, listening to the Doors deliver Riders on the Storm, when Ying called.

“Hi, Ying. Is everything alright?”

“Yes. He wants to take me to America.”

“Wow. When?”

“When he leaves for home. At the weekend.”

“In three days’ time. Are you going?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

She paused. “I’m not sure.”

“He’s falling in love with you, isn’t he?”

“Perhaps.”

“And you?”

She didn’t reply.

He sighed. “Ying this is not how it’s supposed to be. You’re being foolish. Decline. You’ve had fun, now let it go. Tell him to come back again someday.”

“I can’t. I’ve promised him.”

“Change your mind.”

“No.”

“Ying, you’re not thinking straight. You’ll get caught out. I want. . .”

“Ricky, I must go. I’ll call you later.”

“Before weekend?”

“Yes.” She hung up.

“Shit,” he cursed.

But Ying didn’t call. He heard nothing. The departure deadline passed, and he assumed she’d gone to America with Julian D’Amour. There was nothing he could do. It was out of his hands. He pushed it out of his mind.

It was two weeks later, on a Friday, 8:45 in the evening. Ricky was watching a video of the Newport Jazz Festival when the Skype video-call came through. It was Julian D’Amour. The American was seated as usual at his desk in Snowmass. But his expression, taut and creased, told Ricky he was unhappy. He offered no greeting.

Ricky smiled. “Good evening, Julian. Good to see you.”

D’Amour stared intently into the webcam. “What the fuck did you think you were doing, buddy?”

Ricky said nothing. He knows, by Christ. He knows.

D’Amour placed his elbows on the desk, his chin on his hands. He said, “You fucked me, you shit. You took my money and fucked me over. And it almost worked. It almost worked.”

Ricky felt a frisson of unease. This guy could hurt you.”

“Do you know what these are?” D’Amour raised a small paper box. He read the label. “Ciricol, feminine oral contraceptive pills.” He waved the box. “And there’s also these.” He tossed three Tampax menstruation applicators on the desk top.

Ricky swallowed his throat dry. He was tempted to disconnect, but held his hand. He’d take the shit, apologize and offer to return D’Amour’s money. “Julian, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry. What the fuck does that mean?”

“I’ll send you a complete refund.”

“A refund?” D’Amour raged. He thumped the desk. “A refund for the thousands of dollars I spent on her; clothes, travel, entertainment?”

Ricky felt crushed.

D’Amour drank water from as glass. “I asked for, requested, and paid for, a ladyboy. Remember? And you supplied a girl. Ying is a girl, a female. You fucked me over. But I’m gonna pay you back for it.” He stared hard, and long at Ricky. Then he smiled and held out his hand, and Ying entered the picture holding a coffee mug. She was smiling, dimples prominent. She wore a black turtle neck sweater and tight, black ski pants. She looked ravishing.

“Yes, you pulled the wool over my eyes, Ricky,” D’Amour said. “But I’m so glad you did.” He reached for Ying’s hand and pulled her too him. She sat on his lap. “When I found out, I was shocked and angry. But then I saw the funny side of things. I also realized I’d fallen hopelessly in love with her. She is beyond doubt the most beautiful and exciting girl I’ve ever known.

“Until now, I’d met nothing but glamorous floozies, Long Island Bimbos, spoiled high society bitches, fucked up trust fund brats and others. And then I met Ying. And she has given me back my faith in womanhood. My parents adore her.

“Ricky, Ying has agreed to marry me. We’d like to tie the knot here in Aspen with a simple wedding here at my lodge. But my folks won’t hear of it. So it’s going to be a high society do. We will marry next month at my family compound in Mystic Seaport in Connecticut. Everyone will be there; the State Governer, the Mayor of New York, and a whole who’s who of well-known athletes and entertainment people. And you, Ricky will be there as my personal guest. I’ll mail you an air ticket. All expenses are on me. Now, do you accept?”

Ricky felt dazed and reached for a water glass. And took a long drink. He smiled. “Yes,” he said. “Of course I accept. It’s a big surprise. Thank you, Julian. And my sincere congratulations to you both. I hope you will be very happy.”

“Thank you, Ricky. We’ll talk again, soon.”

“Bye, Ricky,” a smiling Ying waved a hand, and the line closed.

Feeling amazed, Ricky shook his head. At his sound system, he put on Edward Elgar’s beautiful, Salut d’amour, so very apt, he thought.

In the kitchen, he took up a big glass and pulled a bottle of red wine from the refrigerator. He filled a bowl with potato chips and went out on his verandah. He turned on the fans that kept unpleasant night invaders at bay. His three cats joined him on the bamboo couch. He opened the bottle and filled the glass. And looking up at the big moon that covered Bangkok, he drank a toast to Ying Pantip and Julian D’Amour, and another successful romance for Thai Lovers.