Chapter Ten Monika #2
“Your response was two words. Here and acknowledged,” 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 said Here. 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 the most, 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 expected the Taranis 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 embroidered hanbok.
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 the eoyeo meori on 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 when I 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.”
He takes her hand and bows over it deeply, but the moment he’s upright again, he laces his fingers through mine once more.
“I am sincerely sorry that I didn’t answer your invitation.
I actually did have other commitments, in that I had already at that point agreed to attend your event as your goddaughter’s plus-one. ”
“You could have given me a little heads-up,” she tells me in Korean, though I can sense the teasing in her tone. It makes my heart light. “Did you tell your mother?”
I shake my head. “I wanted to surprise her.” I also didn’t believe my date would show up.
“Well, she will be surprised,” she answers, and we both laugh before her gaze switches back to Taranis again as she resumes speaking in English. “Are you two dating?”
“Oh no,” I quickly jump in before I can leave the response to Taranis. “We just . . . we started working together and . . .” And what? I blank completely.
“Hit it off,” Taranis finishes. His smile is so bright I have to stare up at it for a second to understand what he’s saying—what he’s implying.
Is he . . . trying to convince the ambassador we’re actually dating?
If she tells my mom—when she tells my mom—my mom will tell my dad, and my parents will both lose their minds for entirely different reasons.
Neither is a conversation I’m interested in having.
“I think he means—”
“Exactly what I said,” Taranis states. “And we are honored to be here. If you need us for anything throughout the evening, please don’t hesitate to find us. We won’t take up any more of your time.”
“Please do enjoy the festivities, and I will be sure to catch you inside. Thank you again for coming. Monika, we’d love to get your photo with the other honorees once all have arrived.”
“Of course, Ambassador. Thank you so much for having me . . . us.”
The ambassador’s dark eyes switch between the two of us curiously, not a doubt in my mind that she absolutely does not buy that we’re an item. “Of course. You’ll also find Cynthia inside.”
I tense, a zap of nasty electricity zipping up my spine. “Oh. She’s in town?”
“She is.”
I grimace. “That’s so great. I’ll be sure to stop by and see her.”
“Please do. She is excited to see you.” She isn’t. I know she’s not. “And she will be excited to meet your date. My daughter is a huge fan. We all are.”
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Of course, Ambassador.” He gives her a wink, and I swear it brings a blush to the married woman’s cheeks. “We’ll see you inside.”
The South Korean Embassy is a rectangular building with a massive courtyard at its center, where the party is taking place. It’s absolutely stunning, and when we step into the wonderfully decorated world, I almost hallucinate that I’ve been transported to Jinju directly.
The hand holding mine relaxes slightly as we stand at the top of a short flight of steps looking out over the lantern-lit atrium.
Lanterns hang from every tree, from ropes, from the eaves of the building, illuminating all the exterior walkways and the corridors leading inside.
Different stations have been set up, and I gasp, forgetting momentarily who I’m standing here with.
“Let’s go make lanterns!” I turn to face Taranis while I point off to the left.
“I mean . . .” And then I shake my head.
Fuck it. If he’s going to be the real him with me, then I’m going to be the real me with him.
And the real me? Come on. I’m a nerd. What else?
“They made the little pond here a mini–Namgang River! Come on! Or do you want to check out the night market first?” I point right, toward the food stalls.