“Hope you have enough for a group of four because there’s some businessmen headed our way. I’ll tell them that they’re getting a special and charge them more.”
“I honestly believe you could get away with that.”
“Watch and learn, baby.” Jules turns to the customers. “Annyeonghaseyo . . . ”
The last part of her hello trails off oddly.
“Jules? What are you doing?” asks a familiar voice in sharp, formal Korean.
I freeze and beside me so does Jules.
“Ch-choi Yujun,” she stammers, shoving me slightly to the side so I’m farther away from the opening and out of Yujun’s gaze, but it’s too late. He recognizes me.
“Hara?”
I pretend I don’t hear him and hide in the far back of the truck. Not only do I feel gross, but I know I look terrible with my grease-splattered apron, bread crumb– and batter-covered hands, the hairnet; the plastic face shield; the sweat.
“I’m sorry but we’re all out of everything. Closed. We’re closed.”
There’s some Korean chatter beyond the counter. Jules replies, “We don’t speak Korean. No speak Hanguk!” Under her breath she hisses, “How do you close the damn window?”
“From outside.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
She curses and I want to curl up into a small ball in the corner. There’s a knock at the back door of the truck and I know it’s Yujun. I’m not answering it.
“Hara, Yujun is coming—” Jules’s warning dies in her throat as the door is pulled open and a very confused Yujun, dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, appears in the frame. The tail of his green tie is tucked inside his shirt and his sleeves are rolled up to expose his fine veiny forearms. His head is covered with a black baseball cap to block out the sun. He looks scrumptious. I look like a raggedy dishcloth—one with holes and stains.
“When you weren’t home this morning, I assumed you went to work early, and I see you are working but not where I expected you to be.”
“I’m going to the store to get a lemonade. Want one? No? Okay, bye.” Jules slips away while Yujun and I engage in a staring contest.
“It’s a long story,” I repeat.
“I’m all ears.”
Someone says something in Korean. “I have customers.” I start to close the door on him. He slaps his hand against the steel.
“I’m coming home early.”
“That feels like a warning.”
“Consider it prior notice. Don’t run off. I’ll find you.” He reaches out and tugs on my red silk cord, which had escaped from inside my T-shirt. “I’ll find you,” he repeats. He steps back and lets the door swing shut.
My cheeks are hot when I serve him and his coworkers, and not from the heat of the deep fryer. Jules returns and allows me to retreat to the back of the truck.
“What did he say?” she hisses between customers.
“That he’s coming home early and not to run off.”
“Or what? He’ll spank you?” She waggles her eyebrows. “Didn’t know Yujun was that type of guy. Although . . . he does seem like he enjoys being in charge.”
I’m 100 percent certain that there’s no redder color on this earth than my face at this moment.
“You didn’t answer me,” Jules teases. At least, I think she’s teasing.
“I can’t hear you over the noise of this deep fryer.” I make a loud buzzing noise.
She says something else so I increase the volume of my own sound. I vaguely hear laughter and then chicken sounds.
“You’re happy. You get back together with Bomi?”
Jules’s giggles cut off. “How did you know?” She sounds annoyed. “Did Bomi tell you?”
“No, but a giddy Jules either means you’re high, which is illegal here, or in love.”
“Which is also illegal here.”
“But you don’t care.”
“No. Not really. Bomi says that we’ll not officially come out, but there’s no reason I can’t be around her. It’s normal to see girls and even women holding hands. We won’t share a registry, and medical issues will suck, but that’s a long way off and a lot can change. Even if it doesn’t, we can still be together.” She grins. “We’ll be like those fossilized remains that are wrapped together and the historians interpret as good friends.”
“I’m really happy for you.” Jules and Bomi are not afraid of the goblins. Be a dragon, Hara.
CHAPTER TWENTY
YUJUN: I’m working late. There’s no one here. I’m scared. please come and hold my hand.
Yujun sent that to me a half hour ago. Despite his earlier threat, he did not get off early, but I didn’t run away either. I want to see him. I haven’t done anything wrong other than not come to work at IF Group. I explained in an earlier text that Yang Ilhwa had been sick and I helped her out. He was confused about how I knew the food truck owner well enough to fill in for her, but accepted it in the end.