“These are the Wangs,” Drew said quickly. “And these are the Dus. Sorry, we’re in a rush, but it was so lovely to see you!”

He started to leave, but Mrs. Du said, “Honey, we can chat for a minute if you like. We’re not in a rush at all!”

My father finally looked up. “Who’s this? Oh! Andrew, why are you here? And why are you wearing a Stanford shirt?”

“Nice to meet you,” I said to the Dus as I pulled on both my parents’ arms in the direction of our car. “We have to get going.”

“The buns, Jing-Jing!” My mother yanked her arm from mine. “What’s going on here…” She trailed off, and now Drew, the client, and I were all trying to push the parents along.

Then, suddenly, my mom pointed a finger at Drew. “Tiān āh!” She looked back at me, frantic. “He’s cheating on you!”

“No, no,” I said quickly as Drew and the girl joined in. “No one’s cheating,” she said as Drew garbled, “You’ve got it all wrong.”

But that was all drowned out by the girl’s aunt—well, I was guessing it was her aunt, based on age and looks, et cetera—who was saying, very loudly, “I knew it was too good to be true!” Then, to the girl’s mother: “I told you Jeannie was too naive! This is what happens to good girls like her! They get played!”

My mother jumped in and snapped back, “No, being innocent is a good thing!” because that was what was most important right now.

There was no easy solution here, but in the hopes of saving Drew’s job and the client’s mission, I offered up, “I’m the ex—I just haven’t told my parents yet.” Since I was about to spill all anyway, what was one more lie? I could take the hit for now and reverse in a minute, once it was just my parents and me.

My mother exploded. “You let him get away? Zěnme gǎo de, Jing-Jing!” she yelled just as my father, surprisingly, demanded an explanation: “Shénme huí shì?”

“And he moved on this quickly?” My mother shook a finger at Drew. “Shame on you!”

My father’s expression was more dejected than angry. “What happened?” he asked again, in English this time.

I shot the girl’s family a pained expression, hoping they would take the cue and give us some privacy, but the aunt took a step closer and the parents rooted their feet.

The aunt crossed her arms over her chest and asked suspiciously, “When did you break up?”

But her question was buried by my mother’s Mandarin exclamations. When the aunt tried to ask again, my mother yelled out, “Wait, then why is Andrew coming over tomorrow?”