“It isn’t really my place. It’s Ivy’s. I’m just renting a room.”
“They rent out rooms?”
Okay, I guess that sounded sort of weird. People who can afford mansions don’t want mansion-mates. “Well, only to me. I’m a special case. Soul sister, remember? The rent is whatever an apartment would charge.”
That only seems to confuse him more. “Why don’t they just let you live there for free if you’re a soul sister?”
“Because I’m supposed to prove to Eugene I can support myself. Living rent-free at Ivy’s place wouldn’t do that.”
Declan shakes his head. “Your brother’s weird. It would’ve been easier to just let you marry who you want.”
“Thank you! We should totally make a billboard with that on it, you in your underwear, and put it outside Eugene’s office. Subliminal message.”
“I think it’s too in your face to be subliminal,” Declan says with a laugh. Then he sobers. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”
I get why he’s worried. All the way down the drive, I’ve been getting jitterier and jitterier, like a cow that’s been zapped by a cattle prod once too often. Mom has that effect on me sometimes, and this is one such occasion. But I don’t have time to explain. I need to shower, put on makeup, do my hair and make myself presentable before her driver arrives.
And I better look freakin’ amazing when I see her. Otherwise I’ll hear endless lectures. Plus she’ll probably tell Eugene that I’m not able to take care of myself. I have to remember that she and Dad put him up to this marry-or-else deal.
“Positive.” I lean closer and give Declan a quick kiss. The timing sucks, but it’s better to deal with Mom now than make her wait. She’s not good at waiting. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you later!”
“Okay. Call if you need anything,” he says, sounding slightly worried.
I dash into the house without responding. I’m his assistant. I’m not supposed to call him when I need something. He’s supposed to call me when he needs something.
If I had a minute to spare, I would have told him so.
I’m making a mental note to do just that when a thought strikes me. Maybe he doesn’t consider me an assistant anymore. He said we’re in a relationship. So that makes us girlfriend and boyfriend.
I need to figure out exactly how that’s going to work, because I can’t stay in the States forever. His life is in L.A., while mine is in Korea. And long distance is so complicated.
But Declan… Well, he’s worth the effort. So we’ll make it work.
I take a super-fast shower, then blow-dry my hair. Argh. Why do I have to have so much hair? If only it were a short bob…
Okay, calm down. If it doesn’t fully dry in time, I’ll just spread some gel through it and put it up in a French twist. That’s always an elegant choice.
And I end up opting for that, because I have to do my face, too. Nothing less than full makeup will do, but there’s so, so little time…
I suddenly realize that my mouth looks slightly swollen. And there’s a red mark on my collarbone. At least Declan didn’t leave a mark on my neck. This limits my dress options, but I’m sure I can find something. I have to look my absolute best when I see my mother at the hotel, because that’s what I’m expected to look like in public.
A halter-neck Cong Tri dress in forest green. Golden strappy sandals with long, thin spikes for heels. Gold and jade jewelry. I swipe some bright red lipstick over my mouth, then pick out a super-dark red lip stain and dab it in the inner part of my lips for a quick gradient look. Hopefully this will hide any swelling. Mom doesn’t need to know I do hot adult activities. Besides, Declan is a topic I need to broach with some tact. Like…when she’s in a great mood.
Just when I stick a butterfly-shaped diamond pin into my hair to set it into an updo, my phone buzzes.
Mr. Choi, the screen reads.
Guilt at my inability to help him resurfaces. Is he calling to beg me to give in to Eugene because he can’t bear working in the hell of internal audit anymore? If so, I’m going to have to ask him to suck it up for a few more weeks.
I hit the speaker. “Mr. Choi. How are you?”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Hae.” His voice is calm and soothing, without the edge it gets when he’s tense or unhappy about something. Maybe he’s adjusting to internal audit better than I thought. “Your car is waiting.”
I blink. My car…? Does this mean…? I smile. Yes! He’s back! And he’s here!
Mom must’ve rescued him. She knows my preferences when it comes to staffing. If I’m going to be spied on—because they all report to my mother—I prefer that I get nice, likable spies.
“I’ll be right out!” I say.