“Your response was two words.Hereandacknowledged,” he sneers.
I shift my gaze left and right. “So ... in other words, a response?”
“You didn’t read my whole email. I said I was looking forward to tonight. You saidHere.And then you go and flirt with my driver.” He makes a sound in the back of his throat that is suspiciously beastly.
“Why are you pissed off? We both know that you only asked to join me as part of the deal to get me to come work for you. It’s not like you could ever be into me.” Christ Almighty. Why the fuck did I say that? I sound so ... whiny. Also, I’m not doing myself any favors if I’m supposed to be his fake date tonight and also spying on him later.
“Why didn’t you say you were looking forward to it too?” he asks, all but ignoring what I just said.
“Are you for real?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?”
“What are we even talking about?”
The car door suddenly opens. I hadn’t realized we’d stopped. The driver ducks her head into the entrance and says, “Are you two ready? I can also circle the block.”
“Circle the block,” Taranis says at the same time I shout, “We’re ready!”
Before Taranis can slam the car door shut, I lunge forward to take her hand and let her help me out of the car. Taranis edges into the narrow space at my back, his body all but lining mine, his chest bumping my ass as he ducks to follow me out. He slaps mine and the driver’s hands apart.
“Be on standby,” he growls at her.
She nods, keeping her gaze down, which just pisses me off, but I don’t have time for that because Taranis has already been noticed.
“I really will get you those tickets,” I tell her as the few photographers who are present flock toward us, along with a whole host of civilians.There aren’t many folks walking Embassy Row this time of night, but the commuters who are there collectively squeal and scream,Ohmigawdthat’sTaranis!
The driver looks up at me with a surprised smile. “Thank you. I would love that.”
“What’s your name, by the way?” I ask her, holding out my hand.
She glances at Taranis and gives me a contrite look. He’s not paying attention, though, looking out toward the photographers, waving like he’s the King of fuckin’ England. She leans in toward me, her breath ruffling my hair. “It’s Nicoleta. Thanks again.”
“I’ll get your number when we come back so I can send you the ...ooph!” Taranis has a hold of my wrist, and when he jerks me forward, I lose my balance. I might have tumbled toward the sidewalk to give it a lovely little kiss had his body not been there to block my fall.
“What did I say?” he hisses, dropping my wrist and grabbing my hand instead. He laces his fingers through mine in a way that might look cutesy to anyone else, but the bones in my hand doth protest. “Smile,” he orders.
I wince and try on a smile as the steps up to the South Korean Embassy rise before us. The meager paparazzi I thought were there suddenly triple, quadruple, flashing cameras coming out of the woodwork as we ascend alongside other formally dressed guests.
Lights flash, photographers call Taranis’s name. They’re calling other names too. The names of politicians I recognize, the names of high-profile businessmen and women I don’t. My name, too, much to my surprise, though Taranis’s above all. It occurs to me just then that even though we’re surrounded by a sea of Korean and American elites, Taranis is still garnering the most notice. And he’s resumed his role. For a second, I completely forgot who the world believes him to be. I’m still stuck on the fact that he thinks I’m embarrassing him by flirting in the privacy of his car—for fuck’s sake. He’s clearly a male used to being fawned over themost,and right now is absolutely no exception.
At the top of the steps, Taranis pulls me rather roughly through the gates. He wears a broad smile, perfect for the crowd, but his grip on my hand is still hard, bordering on brutal, as we make our way across the lawn and then up the final steps, where Ambassador Min-hyuck greets her guests.
“That the ambassador?” Taranis hisses between teeth clenched in that immovable smile. Men in fancy tuxedos to my left gossip behind their fingers like schoolboys, and two women walking directly in front of us glance over their shoulders, eyeing Taranis like he’s a piece of meat and they’re seriously iron deficient.
“Yes. My godmother.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Ouch,” I hiss as his hand clenches mine even more brutally. I stumble along after him as he cuts abruptly right, dodging a pair of gawkers and pulling me along like a yo-yo. “I thought your team did their due diligence.”
His eyes meet mine, and there is no love lost between us, but too soon, he’s guided me up the final steps and edged my body slightly before his as we approach the ambassador. I didn’t expect him to do that. Even though it is my invitation we’re here on, I fully expectedtheTaranis to take the spotlight for himself at every opportunity. Instead, he leaves a pause long enough for me to speak first as the ambassador’s eyes dance between the two of us in shock and alarm.
“Annyeonghaseyo, Daesa-nim,” I say with a big smile, taking her hand between my two and bowing low over it. I don’t get to see my own mother very often these days, so this feels nice. “You look stunning,” I tell her in Korean, dipping my chin toward her formal green-red-and-white and absolutely exquisitely embroideredhanbok.
The older, shorter woman with graying hair gives me a demure grin in response and a very slight bow, which is a courtesy she doesn’t owe me at all, given her status—not to mention the fact that theeoyeo meorion top of her head likely weighs a ton. It’s a braided wig decorated with extravagant jeweled pins and jade plates. I got to try one on once whenI was styling a shoot for the South Korean Embassy and was told that particular one weighed eight pounds.
“It is a pleasure to see you, Monika,” she responds in Korean before turning her attention to my date and switching to heavily accented English. “And you, too, Taranis, though I did not expect to see you here tonight, least of all escorting my goddaughter.”
