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CHAPTER TWELVE
On Monday, carrying two coffees, I take the elevator to the fourteenth floor instead of getting off on the seventh. One of my privileges as Wansu’s daughter is that there is no place I can’t go, including Bomi’s desk in the Research and Development Department. It’s still early and there’s almost no one present, except for my friend, who is diligently bent over her work. Of course she would be here early.
“Hara, is everything all right?” She stands up immediately and rushes to my side. “Should I call Wansu? Don’t you ride to work with her?”
“Not always and not today. I came early.” I hand her one of the drinks. “I need you to come save me for lunch. Bujang-nim is always telling me and the other two women in my office to eat together, but I think they’ve got plans, so please don’t make me look like a loser who has to eat on her own.”
“I eat on my own.”
“I’m not calling you names or anything,” I tease.
Bomi bestows a small smile. “I’ll meet you in the lobby a little after one?”
“Yes. We are going to the pork truck again.” I wave bye and head down the hall toward Yujun’s office.
“Hara!” Bomi whines.
“I know you love it,” I call to her and disappear around the corner. After that errand is finished, I bounce down to the seventh floor and settle in to work.
Even though I am still proofing the document that I proofed two weeks ago, the anticipation of seeing Bomi for lunch helps the morning go by quickly. That and the occasional text I get from Yujun informing me that he arrived at the office, that he appreciated the iced Americano that I left there, and that he’s happy to be back in Korea.
No one is happier than me.
ME: I’m having lunch with Bomi today
YUJUN: What about me?
ME: I left you the iced Americano what more do you want
YUJUN:
ME: It’s a workday! Don’t answer that
YUJUN: LOL
For the sake of my sanity, he moves on.
YUJUN: it’s my turn to take you to eat without sangki. save your Friday night
ME: Saved!
I’m giddy.
“Did you get good news?”
I’m momentarily silenced by surprise at Chaeyoung’s question. I glance at the desk next to mine where Soyou usually sits and discover it’s empty. I was so absorbed in my texting that I didn’t realize she’d left.
“Yes. I did. I”—don’t want to tell Chaeyoung I’m going on a date with Yujun because she might find it off-putting or more evidence of my nepotism hire—“got a notice that there was a sale on a pair of earrings I liked.”
“They must be very pretty.”
“Very. Silver with dangling pearls.” As my mouth moves indiscriminately, the rest of my brain is telling me to shut up because finding these is going to be a real bitch if Chaeyoung asks to see them.
“Was the Summer Splash Party fun?”
The light bulb goes on. She must’ve seen photos of me at the event. “It was. Sangki got us in because the tickets have been sold out for a while, he said.”
“Yes. They sell out in seconds.” She snaps her fingers and the jewels embedded in her nails twinkle.
“You should come with us next time.”
“It was the last one.”
“There’s the Banpo Music Fest,” I suggest.
“Maybe.” She starts to swivel away.
Desperately, I throw out, “I have backstage passes.”
She turns back. “From DJ Song?”
I blank and then remember that’s Sangki’s stage name. “Yes. From him.”
“Could I bring a frie—” She cuts off and her eyes fly to a space over my shoulder.
Soyou must be back. Chaeyoung resumes typing as if she wasn’t trying to finagle celebrity perks from me ten seconds ago. I rub a finger across my eyebrow in frustration and counsel myself to take this slow. If I start walking across the earth, at some point I’ll make it around the entire world. This is the second time that Chaeyoung has initiated a conversation with me, which means she’s thawing. I’m at least a mile into our journey to becoming frenemies. By the end of the year, maybe she’ll gather up enough courage to speak to me when Soyou is around. It’s progress.
“You seem happy today,” Bomi observes as we make our way to the pork truck.
“The sun is out but it’s not too hot. There’s no pollution warning. Yujun is back.” I can’t keep the grin off my face. “You should’ve come with us to the pool party. It was fun even though I had to wear a swimsuit. There were girls there wearing heels in the pool!”
“It’s a glamorous group. I saw a lot of photos on Instagram.”
“The Banpo Music Fest is soon. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Maybe I will.”
There’s no line to the food truck, and Yang Ilhwa greets me with a wave of her metal spatula. As usual, we don’t even have to place our order anymore. I bite into the crunchy fried croquette immediately.
