By the time I got to the Langham in Xintiandi,
he had been in Shanghai on business,
I had finished my work week in Hong Kong,
rushed to the airport
to catch a flight, delayed.
By the time I got to the lounge,
he had chilled champagne glasses waiting.
By the time we got to our room,
the staff had opened another bottle for us,
brought canapés, satays and finger food
from the club buffet.
By the time I called him over,
I had showered,
washed my hair,
wrapped a terry cloth towel around my head,
draped the oversized bathrobe over my shoulders,
closed it with a bow,
looked out of the window
over Shanghai below.
By the time I opened the bow, let the robe slide
from my shoulders to the floor,
he was standing behind me,
embracing me,
my breasts resting on his forearms.