Someone held the door for her. Greeting her on the wall was a two-headed dragon. Its face was painted in cheerful vermilion and yellow, its twin lolling tongues in striped green. Under it stood the Chinese minister of culture. The night at the opera, where she had last seen him two days before, seemed eons away. He bowed from the waist.

“Pleasure to see you again. Did you enjoy the rest of your stay in Beijing?” He enunciated the words as though he had learned them by rote. “I hope you find our hospitality to your liking.”

A rush of air caused the two-headed dragon’s tongues to sway. Rocking Lulu against her shoulder, Nola reminded herself to be polite. She’d charm the pockmarked skin off this minister’s face. Breathlessly, her voice as sweet as plum wine, she said, “China’s everything I had hoped for and more. Oh! I particularly liked the street performances and the group exercises in the parks.”

“I’m glad you got the chance to witness our people’s contentment.” He handed her a flat wrapped package. It was too light to be a book. “A token of our esteem.” He bowed his head. “Please open.”

She feigned a giggle of delight, made a show of appreciating the fine rice paper wrapping, then handed Lulu to Leslie. In slow, deliberate movements, she untied the gold satin ribbon, and uncovered a picture made of exquisite silk embroidery stretched over a polished mahogany frame. Millions of tiny stitches, made with the finest of threads, created a scene of a tiger eyeing a songbird on a tree branch.

White, hot anger burned in Nola's skull. “Beautiful. I would like to learn more about this form of stitchery. A helpless bird and a vicious tiger. Is there a folk tale behind it?”

Then she thought of her Tan Tien. It would not tolerate the minister’s insult. Aware of the handpicked group of reporters representing Vanity Fair, In Style, Entertainment, People, Billboard, HBO, MTV and VH1, she smiled openly into his face. She refolded the picture in its wrapping, returned the package, and said sweetly, “I’m so sorry I cannot accept this wonderful gift.”

She thought she heard Wade's groan. At least Roberta wasn’t around to interfere.

The minister’s face reddened. “It made by our women artisans. Best in world!” He bowed again. “Since it my honor to accompany you to Shanghai, I make sure you see special atelier where we make this—and also learn more about our way of life.”

The instruction would probably cover the sacrifice of the individual for the good of the many. “I’m always interested in learning more of the Chinese ways.” She flipped her hair away from her face, and, feline-like, turned her back to him. As her new chaperone, he would see more of that part of her than he cared to.