I start to dash out, then jump back into my room because I need a purse. Yesterday’s purse is okay, although the yellow and purple Gucci would work better. But I don’t have the time to dump items back and forth.
Ah, who cares. Mom’s not going to know I have the perfect Gucci in my closet.
I walk out of the house, my step light. Mr. Choi is waiting for me in the driveway, standing in front of a spotless silver Mercedes. His suit is black and impeccable as always.
He opens the back door with a bow.
“Thank you. Good to see you again, Mr. Choi.”
“My pleasure, Ms. Hae. It’s lovely to see you again.” And he means it.
He drives the car toward the hotel.
“Is Ms. Kim here, too?” I ask, unable to suppress my curiosity. If Mom knew Mr. Choi was stuck in internal audit, she had to know Ms. Kim’s fate as well. I’m dying to discover just how many of Eugene’s evil deeds Mom has undone.
“She’s with your mother,” he responds.
Yay, Mom! “I’m sorry about the ordeal. Internal audit couldn’t have been fun.”
“It was nothing.”
Some people say that, while hinting with their tone that it was definitely something and that I owe them one. But some people only say what they mean. And Mr. Choi is the second type, which is why I like and trust him.
But regardless of what he says or how much he means it, I’m not going to forget that he had to suffer because of my decision. I’ll have to find a way to make it up to him somehow. Maybe a trip to someplace nice. Or a transfer to some division of his choice within the Hae Min Group after I’m married to the love of my life and Mom doesn’t need to spy on me anymore. I can make that happen by asking Dad when he’s in a particularly good mood.
Mr. Choi murmurs something into his lapel mic when we arrive at the hotel. A doorman comes over to open the door. I step out and follow Mr. Choi to the elevator.
Ms. Lim reserved the top floor, as she knows Mom’s preference. The entire floor is cordoned off, and only people with a room key can go up.
I tell myself to stay calm because Mom’s here for Ivy’s twins. She hasn’t had spies reporting all my moves to her since I left Korea, so she doesn’t know I slept with Declan. Mom only knows I’m in L.A. and wants to catch up. She might even suggest we go shopping later, in which case I’ll say yes and put everything on her credit card.
Mr. Choi opens the door to the corner suite. I step inside the luxuriously appointed room, complete with a grand piano, which is likely out of tune. Most hotel suite pianos are. I scan the room and stop when I spot Ms. Lim and Ms. Kim standing together in black suits, their hands f
olded in front of them. They bow, and I give Ms. Kim a small smile. I’ll need to do something nice for her, too.
And then I see my mother and grin with all the happiness in the world. I seriously adore her.
She’s seated at the coffee table, sipping tea out of a delicate porcelain cup.
Nobody would believe she just crossed the Pacific Ocean. Her dark blue Hobeika dress is wrinkle-free and drapes gorgeously over her toned body. Nude Gucci heels encase her slender feet, the toenails painted orchid pink. The makeup on her face is fresh and impeccable, and not a strand of hair is out of place on her auburn head, two shades darker than mine.
Mom places her teacup on the table and stands in a single motion as elegant and fluid as a ballerina. She steps forward, puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me over.
I smile under her scrutiny. It’s par for the course. Since my skin’s not in the best condition after my late night, the critique should come in…three…two…one…
“Oh my goodness, Yuna! When was your last facial?”
“A month ago,” I say lightly. Ms. Kim would know it more precisely, but I think an approximation is good enough for now.
“What? You’re too young to give up on yourself so soon!” Mom speaks as though I’ve been eating live cicadas for the last four weeks. “Women are like delicate flowers. You have to take care of yourself if you want to preserve youth and beauty.”
“Eugene left me no choice.” There! I’m throwing you under the bus, big brother! And I don’t even feel guilty about it, because it’s true. “I can’t do facials when I have no money.”
“I heard. I have no clue what he was thinking. I told him to get you married, not make you work. And with no funds! How are you supposed to maintain a proper appearance?” She looks me over again. “At least your dress isn’t old, although I think that purse could use an update. I’m sure we can find something better to match your outfit.”
I wrap myself around her arm. This is my chance to get my accounts unfrozen. I need some active plastic, ideally without a spending limit. And if Mom authorizes it, Eugene can’t do anything about it. It’s sort of cheating, but I don’t care. He only got to freeze my accounts because our parents probably didn’t know he’d go that far.
He should know what it feels like to have somebody crap on his plans.