“Oh, no, never! It isn’t a matter of convenience, it’s personal safety. Seoul has a low crime rate, considering its size, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t any criminals or perverts.”
“Ah. Yeah, I heard that groping sometimes happens on the trains over there.”
I sigh. “Yup.” It’s embarrassing how some perverts ruin the national image with their sexually inappropriate fingers, especially when that stuff gets posted on social media and YouTube. A public flogging would be too good for them.
Court winces. “I don’t want to imagine what your bodyguards do to people who try to grab your butt.”
“Rip the guy’s arm off and beat him to death with it.” I can just see Mr. Choi doing that. “But anyway, I never had to drive because I always had a chauffeur.”
“So why’d you get the license?”
“To have one, of course.”
Court looks like he doesn’t get it, but I don’t care. Most Americans don’t understand it because everyone drives in the U.S. The sheer distances involved make it hard to even go grocery shopping without a car in a lot of areas. Seoul is much more centralized.
But I generally had my food delivered, and my parents’ housekeeper came by every week to make me delicious banchan dishes with vegetables, beans and dried fish. I sigh, already missing them. Korean grocery stores in L.A. carry some pre-made versions, but they aren’t the same. My parents’ housekeeper knows exactly how I like my banchan—simple, with minimal salt and soy sauce…and extra ground sesame seeds for my vegetable banchan dishes.
After more than an hour and half of battling the worst traffic, Court finally pulls into the long driveway in front of Ivy and Tony’s home. The place is fully lit, and vehicles dot the driveway, like on Friday when I arrived from Korea. But unlike that day, now I’m here full of pride and triumph! I’ve already checked off the biggest item on my to-accomplish list.
Court and I walk into the dining room together, where an upbeat tune is coming from the stereo system. Ivy smiles from her seat. “There’s the got-the-job-on-my-first-try girl!”
I laugh. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you.” I hug her, then greet the rest of the gang.
Although I was nervous about the interview and had my sleep disrupted because of that, I can feel myself getting revved up again. Nothing recharges the batteries like being surrounded by people I adore.
Since it’s early, we have some finger food and nonalcoholic drinks. There’s some fizzy white-pear cider that’s been laid in, and it’s absolutely fabulous. The closest thing to alcohol-free Dom I’ve ever tried.
“Just to make sure you aren’t left out of the loop, Court and Pascal have set a wedding date,” Tony says.
“What? When?” I say. They’ve been engaged since forever. Well, not quite forever, but it feels that way.
“October seventeenth,” Court says. “The third Saturday.”
“Wow. That doesn’t give you a lot of time, does it?”
“We already booked the venue and caterer, so it shouldn’t be that complicated,” Pascal says, then bites into a cracker layered with cheese.
“Awesome. I’m so happy for you! I’m getting invited, right?”
“Of course!” she says.
Everyone raises a glass and toasts are made. God, I love celebrations, and they’re better when we have more and more things to celebrate.
“Now, Yuna, tell us about your interview,” Edgar says as he passes some saltines to Jo, who’s looking slightly wan.
“You okay?” I ask Jo. She seemed fine when we got together for dinner after I landed in L.A.
“Nausea,” she replies. “Some days I’m fine, some days I’m not. Unfortunately, today’s kinda not. But it isn’t so bad I can’t be around food. Just can’t stomach the idea of having anything with grease.”
“You want some fruit salad, then?” Ivy asks. “We have a huge bowl in the fridge.”
“Nope. Just saltines. But thanks.” Jo turns to me. “And about the interview…”
“He was upset I didn’t call,” I say.
“What do you mean?” Ivy says. “I feel like there’s a good story behind this.”
“There is.” I then tell them everything about how Declan and I first met at the airport. Since it happened before I signed the NDA, I don’t think it’s covered.