My Summer in Seoul - Page 6

I yawned behind my hand as my eyes got heavy. I had no idea what time it was back home and suddenly didn’t care. I just wanted to close my eyes for a little bit, but the minute I finally succumbed to exhaustion and started to dream about street tacos with extra cheese, the car jerked to a stop.

I jolted awake and bumped the window with my fist, nearly taking it out.

Solia turned around and stared me down. “You have drool.”

I swiped my fingers across my mouth. Good, now I looked sloppy on top of all the sweat. Oh, dear God, I didn’t even want to look at a mirror; it would probably traumatize me for life. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“We’re here.” Ignoring my apology, she got out of the car and opened my door. I gaped up at a huge building that didn’t look like a hotel or a house.

It looked more like an apartment building, a really fancy one with a waterfall in front and so many trees placed around it that I felt like they’d set the building in the middle of a park.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered. “Is it like a AIRBNB?”

She didn’t answer.

I was suddenly getting used to her lack of communication, like wasting words on me was beneath her or just took too much energy, but who wouldn’t have questions? I knew next to nothing!

She grabbed my suitcase from the driver and inclined her head toward the metal doors. “This way.”

Did we not tip here?

Was I expected to?

Panicked, I had a moment of being paralyzed before I cleared my throat, put on my backpack, hooked my fingers in the straps, and followed dutifully—question-free.

A tall security guard with dark hair and an easy smile waved at Solia, then slowly eyed me up and down, his eyes widening with each second.

Did I still have drool?

I quickly wiped my face, forced a smile, and waited.

Was everyone going to give me that exact same look of disbelief?

I did just get off a long flight, and it wasn’t like I had a T-shirt on that read: “I’m not from here!”

I frowned and followed her into a waiting elevator. It was half glass and gave you an amazing view of the city and the trees as it carried us upward. I hoped I would have some free time to explore.

The elevator kept going up, up, up, and finally stopped; had it gone any further, we would have Willy Wonka’d ourselves completely out of the building on a direct route toward the moon.

We were obviously at the penthouse.

I assumed she was taking me to see Siu. Where else would we go right after getting off the plane? Honestly, it was probably best to meet him now before I went back to wherever I was staying and crashed. He’d told my dad that I was staying in the SWT dorms, whatever that meant. I hadn’t seen a sign on the building, but I assumed I was going to be in one of the many rooms in the building I was currently standing in.

Jet lag was hitting hard and fast as my heavy feet followed Solia. We reached a black door with a silver handle. Next to the door was a white marble table with a phone, a green plant, and mints.

Huh.

She typed in a number on the small keypad and turned the flat handle. And then she just held it, like she was afraid to push it open. She literally had the same look on her face I’d had when I stumbled inside my house after my twenty-first birthday, completely wasted off margaritas and too much tequila.

Interesting.

She pressed her forehead to the door for a few seconds then shoved it open.

I followed her in, immediately stunned at the modern entryway with its dark hardwood floors and white walls. The right wall was massive with no artwork, not even a picture to interrupt its massiveness. To the left was an open stairway with metal steps leading up to a second level. The entire place was stark, extremely modern, and somehow a bit cold. It screamed expensive with its white walls and architecture.

Raised voices were coming from deeper inside the apartment.

She looked heavenward and then slowly zipped out of her boots and stared me down. I got it—I needed to pop off my Allbirds.

“Oh, oh, okay.” I quickly took off my shoes and grabbed the white slippers in front of me, mimicking her actions and hoping I didn’t just steal some poor grandpa’s house shoes in an effort to fit in.

Solia stiffened as she rolled my suitcase forward, suddenly moving so fast that I had to jog to keep up with her as she rounded a corner. The voices continued to rise. One of my slippers nearly came off as I tried to keep up.

I almost ran into her when she stopped and gave a small bow to a man with shots of silver in his dark hair. He had intense brown eyes that, even through the lenses of his black-rimmed glasses, showed flashes of anger.

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Romance
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