David and Hulan edged past the video crews, who jostled to get shots of everyone entering the building. Once inside, they looked around the bustling lobby until they found Miss Quo, who'd been invited as part of the permanent staff of the Beijing office of Phillips, MacKenzie amp; Stout.
Unlike the typical law firm underling who adhered to modestly priced, conservative styles, she was dressed this evening in an elegant black slip dress bought off a couture runway in Paris. Yet it was Miss Quo who gushed over Hulan's outfit-a summer dress made from silk the color of a ripe persimmon. Over this Hulan wore a handmade short-sleeve jacket woven from the thinnest strands of rice straw. These clothes, like so many of Hulan's, had come from her mother's trunks and dated back many decades to a period in China when wealth meant time and luxury, refinement and grace, no matter what the temperature.
David and the two women walked up the sweeping staircase to the second-floor banquet rooms. Knight had followed Chinese tradition by booking two connected rooms-one for sitting, one for eating. Outside the door, Henry was speaking intensely to his son. As David and Hulan approached, they heard Doug's reply.
"Dad, I've said it a hundred times today," he said impatiently. "If you want to cancel the sale entirely, fine. We fix everything and move forward, but…" When he noticed that the others had arrived, his voice changed. "David, good to see you. You have a nice flight up?"
Henry stared from his son to David and back again. Just as he was about to say something, Miles poked his head through the door and said, "I wondered where you two had gone. Oh, and here's David and Hulan." Miles gave Hulan a hug and kiss, then said, "It's been a long time. You're more beautiful today than when I last saw you. No wonder David's turned his world upside down to get back to you."
During this exchange David watched as Doug took his father's elbow and led him back into the room, but not before Henry looked back over his shoulder at David, a worried look on his face. Then David's attention was drawn back to Miles, who was shaking his hand, smiling warmly, and saying sotto voce, "I knew you'd come around."
Together they entered the sitting room, which was lined with thirty overstuffed easy chairs upholstered in heavy gray wool with tatted antimacassars on the arms and headrests from which a vague smell of mothballs wafted. On the walls were a series of landscape scrolls, each showing a different season.
Whereas in the U.S. the cocktail hour was designed for casual mingling, this portion of a Chinese banquet was carefully scripted, with the bigwigs on the north and south walls communicating across the expanse of the room in formulaic sentences. As a result, where people sat was carefully strategized according to rank and importance.
As if nothing had happened, Randall Craig rose from his chair, greeted David warmly, shook hands with Hulan and Miss Quo, and began introducing them to those already seated. Governor Sun, as the highest-ranking official, sat in the middle chair against the northern wall. To his left sat Henry Knight, while on his right was Assistant Secretary Amy Gao. Flanking out from them and lining the walls to Sun's right and left were officials from several government entities. By the time these introductions were done, Miss Quo had taken a chair far from the middle along one of the side walls, thus showing her very low rank.
Somewhere above the middle of the west wall, Randall began to introduce David and Hulan to Nixon Chen, who was representing one of the government agencies.
"No introduction necessary, Mr. Craig," Nixon said, jumping up and pumping David's hand. "We are old, old friends! I have known Liu Hulan my entire life, and David from my years in America." In answer to Randall's unasked question, Nixon rattled on. "Like Liu Hulan I was sent to America to study. She was there for many more years than I, but for some of those years we were in the same place."
"Phillips, MacKenzie had an innovative program," David explained to Randall. "Almost as soon as Nixon-President Nixon-opened China, the firm started hiring one or two Chinese law students who were studying in the States each year as summer clerks or even as associates. As you can see, the program had long-term benefits. People like Nixon here returned to China and have risen to positions of power."
"Not anymore," Nixon said with feigned indignation. "Now that you've come, you'll put the rest of us Chinese attorneys out of business."
"I doubt that."
"Really? Look what's happened to my business for Tartan. You don't know this, Mr. Craig, but I've done a lot of work for your company. Until now Miles always sent me your China matters, but no longer. Now he has a 'big gun' in Attorney Stark."
"Don't believe everything you hear," David warned Randall. "Attorney Chen is one of the highest-paid lawyers in all of China." Then to Nixon he added, "I recall you said that you bill like New York lawyers."
Nixon patted his ample waist. " Beijing is the third most expensive city in the world. I have to take care of myself and my hundred employees. We want to live the high life! Given that, I should bill even more than I do."
Randall Craig seemed to lose interest in the small talk and edged back to his chair, which stood directly across the room from Sun. This south wall was home to the Tartan entourage. Since Doug Knight would be staying with Tartan after the sale, he too was on this wall, seated to Randall's left. To Randall's right was Miles Stout. David caught his eye. The senior partner gave a subtle nod to the two chairs next to him. Hulan and David crossed the room and sat down. They had been placed on a wall of equal importance to Sun and firmly in the Tartan camp.
It was going to be a long night.
At six-thirty exactly, the party began moving to the other room. Governor Sun sidled up to David and, slowing his pace so that the others would pass them, asked in a low voice, "Have you had a chance to look at the papers I sent over?"
"Yes," David answered stiffly. As much as he tried to believe in his client's innocence, he was becoming increasingly convinced of his guilt.
"We need to talk-"
"I tried to see you yesterday. I was told you were unavailable."
A frown creased Sun's face, then instantly smoothed away. "I'm sorry if it was an inconvenience. Tomorrow I will come to your office at ten. Is that okay?" But Sun didn't wait for a response. Instead he raised his voice and said affably, "David, tonight you are in for a treat. The Beijing Hotel always provides a fine banquet." He gestured with his arm into the dining room, and David entered.
The room had been set up with three tables of ten place settings apiece. Name cards marked each seat, so that decorum would be maintained. David and Hulan were seated at the head table with Governor Sun, Randall Craig, Miles Stout, Doug and Henry Knight, one of Randall's minions, and a vice minister from COSCO, the largest shipper of merchandise out of China. Nixon Chen had also made the cut.
Unlike Chinese restaurants in other parts of the world where the food was served family-style in the middle of the table, banquets in China were presented course by course on individual plates. The first dish offered three cold selections-shredded jellyfish, cold steamed chicken, and a few thin slices of barbecued pork. Accompanying this was a glass of mao tai, a fiery and fierce liquor. Almost immediately the sense of conviviality rose in the room.
Within minutes, David could understand why Nixon Chen had been placed at this table. Nixon was jovial and irreverent. He led the toasts. He yammered on in flowery terms about his law firm ("The best and most profitable in all of China "), about David's return to China ("You think I'm joking when I say you will steal my business! Everywhere I go people say to me, I only want that new American lawyer. Isn't that right, Governor Sun?"), about David and Hulan's true love ("A love that has spanned two continents, two decades, and an ocean"). He entertained the table with his recent dining exploits. He still frequented the Black Earth Inn, where other former Phillips, MacKenzie associates met once a week for a meal and to network, but he'd also found a new place that he was quite fond of. "Like the Black Earth, the Autumn Jade Western-style Food Restaurant is also a nostalgia restaurant. I'm not talking about one of those nightclub places like they have in Shanghai -all gangsters and beautiful femmes fatales. No, this one is from my parents' generation. The Autumn Jade celebrates the fifties and our relationship with the Soviet Union. I tell you, until I went there I had never had food like that. It is nice if you want a retreat from the luxury life. You understand my meaning?"