“Yeah, we should practice what we did yesterday,” Yuna says. “Make sure you haven’t forgotten anything. Then we can start the Viennese waltz. It’s faster, but shouldn’t be too hard. I even downloaded Strauss’s ‘Frühlingsstimmen’ for it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Yuna
We go over the regular waltz again and start the basics of the Viennese. Declan’s an excellent dancer. It’s almost unfair that he’s so good, but on the other hand, it’d be a shame if a man this hot couldn’t dance well. I don’t give him too much encouragement because I want him to continue to practice. Plus I just enjoy having his arms around me. But then, I’d have to be a corpse to feel nothing when a hottie like him is holding me close and dancing the morning away.
Afterward, Declan drives us to Éternité, where he has a lunch appointment with his agent Tim. I won’t be joining them, but I tag along for the ride because I don’t feel like staying at his place by myself. Sort of odd to be in somebody’s home when the owner isn’t around. It’s not like we’re roommates or something.
Maybe Declan feels bad about the fact that I won’t be eating the fine multi-course cuisine, because he gives me his credit card.
“Get whatever you want.”
“Thanks.” I smile.
I grab a turkey breast sandwich and a brownie, plus a soy latte from a café nearby, and read a super-filthy and crazily overdramatic K-romance I downloaded last night from RidiBooks.
From time to time, I sense a few people checking out my outfit. Since that Jessica woman treated me like a poorly dressed beggar yesterday, I decided to put in more effort this morning with my dress. Or at least better accessories, the kind that say, “Look at me, I’m fabulously rich.”
So I’m in a deep magenta Armani and Manolo open-toe slingbacks in silver, which look amazing together. On my left middle finger is one of my favorite jade rings. The polished green stone is cut in a fan shape, almost half an inch thick, and the rounded edge is inlaid with a complex peony pattern in gold.
When I’m done with lunch and the book, a little over an hour has passed. I decide to take a brief walk around the block to help digest the food and burn off a few calories.
I should consider joining a gym or something. When Evie and Kim and Jo weren’t pregnant, we went to a barre studio, but right now, Evie and Jo are doing prenatal yoga and stuff, which I can’t join. My eggs haven’t been near sperm in years.
As I make a turn, somebody catches my elbow. Startled, I turn and see the crazy blonde from yesterday.
Jessica.
It’s really too bad about the unholy look in her eyes. If it weren’t for that, she’d be beautiful. Objectively speaking, her body would make a great model for a blow-up sex doll. She has the right proportions.
“There you are! We need to talk.” She says it urgently, but still meanly. It’s like the meanness is a permanent feature.
Still, even as she radiates a churlish hostility, she doesn’t forget to give my outfit a once-over. Her eyes stop at my ring. She’s smart enough to know it’s an expensive piece, far beyond her price range. Dollar signs shine in her eyes, along with an almost panting envy.
I shake my head, already bored with her reaction. Actually, everything about her bores me. I so miss Mr. Choi. He would’ve kept the crazy away.
“Are you stalking me?” I ask.
“No! I just saw you and decided we should talk.”
“Sorry, but I’m trying to exercise. Declan likes his assistants slim,” I say, making stuff up so she’ll go away.
“I knew you were banging him! It’s only for five minutes.”
“I don’t talk to strangers, especially when they bore me.” I give her my sweetest smile.
“Well, we’ve met, so I’m not a stranger. And I’m your boss’s girlfriend.”
I take a better look at her. Her tongue darts out, anxiously licking her lips. There’s a feral, wide-eyed, you better believe me glare in her eyes. Sure, you sound credible, honey. “He didn’t treat you like a girlfriend yesterday.”
“Because of you,” she says, her face starting to turn red. “Okay, you want to do this here? In front of people?”
I look around. People with employee IDs around their necks are walking by. Some casual shoppers and folks out for a late lunch. Quite a few are watching us curiously.
If this woman makes a scene—and she seems classless enough to do just that—it could end up on social media. And then go viral, because the only thing people love more than a crass spectacle is a beautiful woman making a crass spectacle.
That wouldn’t do. Mom and Dad would be scandalized. We simply do not make spectacles of ourselves like that, especially not over a man.