Page 178 of Roberto

After that, I had my assistant put his name and picture on the club’s digital blacklist.

Incidents like this happened about twice a week. Always with men, never with female customers. And 90% of the time, it was Westerners: Germans, French, British, Italians, Americans.

Never Canadians, though. Canadians were unfailingly polite.

Actually,mostof my Western clients were well-behaved. But there seemed to be a very small, very vocal subset who werenot.Like the German, they were entitled, demanding, and rude… and usually resorted to anger and physical threats when told ‘no.’

Dealing with those sorts of men was part of the job, but one I could have happily done without.

So I wasn’t in the best mood as I was crossing the main floor of the lounge area…

Andhestepped deliberately into my path.

By the looks of him, he was Italian. Taller than most men who came to De Sade. With his expensive suit and dark, slicked-back hair, he looked like a banker or someone in finance.

He was alsoveryhandsome.

I was struck by that, even though I wasn’t particularly fond of Westerners at the moment.

“Hello,” he said with a slight smile.

His voice was attractive, too. Deep, but nottoodeep.

His accent was American rather than British, although it was tinged with a cultured European lilt.

When he stepped in front of me, I stopped in surprise.

“Oh – hello.”

“I had to come over and meet you.” His charming smile deepened as he extended his hand. “My name is Roberto Rosolini.”

I’d guessed right about the Italian part.

The man was a customer, so I needed to be welcoming –

But to be honest, I didn’t exactly have to force a smile.

I shook his hand. “Chan Mei-ling.”

“That’s beautiful… does your name have a meaning?”

I sighed inwardly.

Almost every Western malealwaysasked that.

They must have heard that Chinese names had literal meanings, so they always inquired – and apparently thought that nootherman had ever asked.

After the 5000thtime, I wished they would just ask me about the weather instead.

“‘Beautiful spirit’ or ‘beautiful bell,’ depending on how you wish to interpret it,” I replied. No matter how handsome he was, the conversation wasn’t off to a scintillating start, and I had to get back to my duties. “Mr. Rosolini, I – ”

“Call me Roberto,” he interrupted. “May I buy you a drink? Say yes.”

I really didn’t have time for this.

“Mr. Rosolini – ”

“Say yes,” he repeated in a different tone.

---