The Will Of The Wongs

Arthur Sterling stood at the bar of The Oakwood, a cozy yet upscale establishment in the heart of Maidstone, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. At forty-eight, the successful property developer was used to getting exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it. His tailored suit, worth more than most of the bar's patrons earned in a month, fit his athletic frame perfectly, hinting at private wealth bordering on the obscene.

"I'll have another whiskey, please," he called to the bar staff, his voice carrying that easy confidence that came from decades of success.

That's when she caught his eye. Mei Wong moved between tables with a practiced efficiency that belied her twenty-seven years. Her figure was generous – plump but beautifully proportioned, with wide hips that swayed hypnotically beneath her simple black waitress uniform and breasts that strained against the fabric. Her face, framed by dark, silky hair pulled back in a severe bun, held an exotic beauty that had drawn admiring glances since she'd started working there six months ago.

"Can I get another round for table six, love?" asked a regular.

Mei nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. When she returned with the drinks, Arthur intercepted her path.

"Excuse me," he began with his most charming smile. "I couldn't help noticing..."

"I'm working," Mei interrupted, moving past him without a glance back.

Nonplussed – few people resisted his advances – Arthur watched her weave through the crowded bar, drawn not just to her beauty but to the challenge she represented. He learned from the bartender that Mei lived with her family in a modest terraced house about a mile away, having moved to Kent from London three years ago.

The next evening, Arthur returned, this time booking a table for a fictional business meeting. After Mei served his party (a meeting that never materialized), he called her over.

"Forgetful of me?" he asked when she approached. "I was hoping you might join me for a drink after your shift."

"I have early starts," she replied with the same dismissive tone as the previous night.

Third time's the charm, Arthur mused. On his next visit, he brought a gift – a small jewelry box containing a diamond tennis bracelet worth several thousand pounds.

"I don't know you well enough to accept this," Mei said, pushing it back across the table. "Please don't bring me things."

And so it continued for weeks – Arthur's increasingly lavish gifts, Mei's consistent rejection. The developer was discovering feelings he hadn't experienced in decades: frustration mixed with overwhelming desire. What he didn't realize was that Mei was perfectly aware of his intentions – she was simply waiting to see how far he would go to prove his interest.

On what should have been their seventh encounter, Arthur decided to change tactics. He arrived at the bar early and sat alone at a table, dressed down in expensive but casual clothes. When Mei walked past, catching her eye, he said simply, "I've been a fool. Let me try again – just coffee after work tomorrow? No gifts, no expectations."

For the first time, Mei's features softened slightly. "Steak and ale pie at The White Horse tomorrow at 5:30. My treat – and I mean that literally. You're buying."

Arthur laughed as she walked away, finally sensing a crack in her resolve. What he didn't understand was that this was all part of Mei's plan – to make him work for something no amount of money could guarantee.

"By the way," Mei called over her shoulder, "I should warn you. I'm not like most girls."

The words gave Arthur pause, but not enough to dampen his excitement. He had no idea how true her warning would prove to be.