Heaven to Wudang by Kylie Chan

would look good in my room?’
    â€˜Which room — on the Peak or at home?’ I said.
    â€˜At home. It’s too big for the Peak, it’s a metre across. It would look good in the living room in my apartment on the Mountain.’
    Leo studied the painting. ‘This isn’t terribly well done, you know. You only want to buy it because it looks like Freddo.’
    She nodded a reply.
    â€˜He should pay for it to compensate you for destroyingthe carpet and making you move out while it was replaced,’ Michael said.
    â€˜Pay with what?’ Simone said.
    â€˜A promise not to pee on the carpet in future would be a good start,’ Leo said.
    â€˜Oh geez,’ Simone said softly, looking behind me, then quickly went to another painting, Michael and Leo trailing her.
    I turned to see what had spooked them and nearly sighed with dismay. It was George Wilson, taipan of one of the big shipping companies. He was a good head taller than me and nearly the same around, carrying a large glass of scotch leaning against his stomach and a predatory grin above his double chins.
    â€˜Here’s the girl in charge,’ he said too loudly, surrounding me in a cloud of alcohol. ‘Running the business by yourself, real executive woman. You can be in charge of me any day, honey.’ He moved closer and I backed away. He leaned into me and his breath made my eyes water. ‘I bet you just love showing your good-looking bodyguards how you’re in charge.’
    Simone stormed to us and glared at him. ‘You’re drunk, George, and you’re making inappropriate comments to my stepmother.’
    He grinned at her. ‘Look at Missy being the boss. I bet your Michael-boy likes you being the boss.’ His grin grew into a leer. ‘You’re growing up fast, honey.’
    â€˜This is sexual harassment!’ Simone said.
    â€˜Oh, Simone, really,’ he said, spreading his arms and spilling his drink on the carpet. ‘I’m just having a bit of fun — don’t go all feminazi on me. Don’t take offence when I’m just joking around. I haven’t even touched you.’
    â€˜Touch me and I’ll break your arm,’ she said, and walked stiffly back to Michael and Leo.
    â€˜You need to teach her, Emma, or she’ll end up one of these radical feminists who think they know better thanmen; ugly and bossy and no man’ll be interested in her,’ George said. He sidled closer to me. ‘So do you have a new man in your life yet? Peter Tong keeps boasting he’s dating you, but I don’t believe it.’
    â€˜I’m not looking, thanks, George,’ I said.
    â€˜No such thing as a woman who isn’t looking. Tell you what.’ He moved so we were side by side facing the art. ‘My wife’s gone to South Africa for a couple of weeks. Why don’t you come over? I have some fantastic art at my place.’ He turned to me and grinned broadly. ‘Why don’t you pop over, have a drink, maybe lunch … or dinner … take a look?’
    I shook my head. ‘I’m not really that interested in art. I think I’ll go catch up with Simone. Later, George.’
    He waved his drink at me. ‘Don’t be a stranger, darling. Has to be hard running that big company without any help.’
    I rejoined Simone, Leo and Michael, who were forcedly discussing a garish abstract canvas.
    â€˜Why are you so polite to him?’ Simone said. ‘Why don’t you just tell him where to go?’
    Leo bent to speak softly to me. ‘You should, Emma. He’ll only respect you if you tell him to his face. Being polite is only giving him ammunition.’
    â€˜Being rude would give him even more ammunition,’ I said. ‘There’s really no way of dealing with a man like that. I didn’t agree to go to his house to see his “art” while his wife’s away, so he’s probably labelled me