Page 61 of Well, That Was Unexpected

I love the way he says my name, turning it soft and sweet in his mouth. And when we arrive at my villa, something overcomes all the questions and voices in my head and I stand on tiptoes and kiss him on the cheek before I can second-guess myself. The look of surprise on his face is such a delight to see that I can’t help but smile. Then I say, “See you later!” and slip inside my villa. I lean against the door and take a deep breath. God, what a day.

“You’re grinning as wide as the Joker,” Kiki says from the living room couch, where she’s channel surfing. “My guess is that it has something to do with Prince George, am I right?”

I wrestle the smile off my face and pointedly ignore Kiki as I make my way to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for my evening with George.

I don’t know what I was expecting when George said local Balinese food, but whatever it was, it doesn’t come anywhere close to the reality. The restaurant he takes me to, Warung Babi Guling Pak Malen, is a swelteringly hot warehouse-like shack packed full of people. It’s still really early—barely six o’clock, but the place is heaving. We grab seats at a long table with five other people who are too busy talking among themselves to pay us any attention, and George asks if I’m okay with him ordering the food. I nod, grateful that he’s going to be doing the ordering. I don’t want to sound like a total princess, but I’m kind of out of my element here.

As George puts in an order for what sounds like an obscene amount of food, there are shouts ofAwas!which means “Watch out!” and four men walk through the restaurant carrying an entire roast pig skewered on a spit. Holy shit. I watch, openmouthed, as they lug the humongous thing to the back of the restaurant, where a group of women chop it up into various parts with startling efficiency.

The food arrives just minutes after George puts in our order—plates of rice piled high with juicy chunks of pork, fried green beans, crunchy pork crackling, crispy golden-brown pork skin, pork satay, and of course, Pak Malen’s special house blend of chili. Two icy bottles filled with a dark-brown drink are placed alongside the dishes. George has even ordered an extra plate of the pork meat and crackling on the side.

I’m melting in this heat, so I take one of the bottles. The label reads Teh Botol, which literally translates to “bottled tea.” What a boring name. I take a sip, and whoa. I’ve honestly never tasted tea this good. It’s knock-your-socks-off strong, delightfully sweet, and so fragrant that it feels like drinking a bottle of jasmine flowers.

George must’ve noticed my expression because he laughs and says, “I know, right? Teh Botol is the best. I have no idea what they put in it.”

I take a small spoonful of rice and cut off a bit of pork and put it in my mouth. Holy crap, my toes have curled up tight out of sheer deliciousness, and I’m clenching my spoon and fork so tightly that the edges are digging painfully into my palms.

“Good, huh?”

“Sogood.” I take a bite of the pork skin and it’s as crispy as a potato chip, savory and sweet all at once. “My god.”

“They continuously brush the pig with coconut water as it roasts, which is why the skin is sweet.”

I close my eyes and take a deep inhale. Sure enough, I can smell the scent of caramelized coconut along with the meatyjuices of the pork. I’m glad George has thought to order an extra plate of the stuff, because now I’m just popping them like chips. It’s only after my plate is completely cleaned that I stop gorging myself long enough to have a conversation with George.

“Sorry about that. I’m usually more ladylike when I eat.”

“You mean you don’t usually eat like a bear who’s just come out of hibernation?”

“Uhh, look who’s talking,” I shoot back, glancing at his own empty plate. “You finished your food before I did.”

“Well yeah, see, I actually do eat like a bear who’s just come out of hibernation. It’s part and parcel of being a healthy, growing boy.”

A plate of pork crackling is placed between us. “Freshly fried,” the server says. “For George Tanuwijaya and his first love.” He winks at us and leaves before I can say anything.

For a second, neither of us speaks. Then I shrug and pop a piece of crackling into my mouth. Immediately I’m filled with regret, because holy crap, that’s hot. “Ow, ow, ow.” I bite it between my teeth and blow in and out while covering my mouth with my hand.

“Very ladylike,” George says, grinning.

When it’s finally cool enough, I put it back in my mouth. Savory, porky umami fills my entire mouth. “Wow. Okay, I changed my mind. The skin isn’t the best part about this meal. The crackling definitely is.”

George nods as he chews on a piece. “Did you know that pork crackling has zero carbs and is actually pretty high in protein?”

I can’t help snorting out loud.

“And pork fat has been found to be good for brain development. It’s high in DHA—the omega-3 fatty acid that they recommend pregnant women to have in large doses.”

“George,” I say, leaning close to him.

His face turns serious and he leans close too.

“That is so sexy. Talk to me some more about omega-3 fatty acids.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he laughs. He laughs like I’ve never seen him laugh before. His entire demeanor changes, his broad shoulders shaking, his whole face lighting up like a sunrise. I’m surprised by how difficult I find it to look away from him right now. It’s probably just all the endorphins from the food and the sugary drinks.

After paying, we go back to the car and George asks the driver to go back to the hotel. I think about going back to thevilla and being alone while everyone else is still mingling at the huge family dinner and my insides clench. “Actually, can we go someplace else?” I say.

George turns to me with a puzzled frown. “Really? We’ve got an early morning tomorrow. What’re you thinking of doing?”

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