Chapter 3
Chapter three
Adam
“Custom champagne glasses just for the engagement party? I knew Bryan’s family was loaded, but damn!” Cory jokes. He smiles wide around a mouth full of bibimbap and pours himself another glass of soju.
Cory’s the youngest of my big brothers, and the biggest bachelor of us all. He doesn’t even give the ladies fifteen minutes to cuddle before calling them an Uber, so the idea of basically a mini-wedding before the real wedding is blowing his mind.
It’s Sunday, which means all five of the Park men are gathered in the dining room of Mom and Dad’s Clinton Hill brownstone for the weekly family dinner.
Mom’s pulled out all the stops with a traditional Korean dinner this week, probably because Damon—my next oldest brother and a point guard for some team in Portugal—is home for the off-season.
He’s ignoring Cory in favor of sneaking another helping of tteokbokki.
“It’s tacky to talk about money at the dinner table, boys,” Dad warns. Dad is definitely old school. He married Mom at twenty-three after just two months of dating. That’s not even long enough for your work benefits to kick in these days. He even asked for her dad’s permission.
I can’t imagine any of my brothers doing that, including the twins, Noah and Henry, Jr. They’re the oldest, which supposedly makes them the most responsible—or so Henry, Jr. keeps telling us.
He also says that one look at the alimony payments his firm secures for their clients is enough to make him swear off marriage forever.
“Sorry, Dad,” we all say in unison. Mom and Dad always emphasized the importance of being respectful and having manners. It just never seemed to translate to dating. All five of the Park boys are focused on their careers over women and proud of it, to my mother’s great disappointment.
“Money aside, they are having a ton of events,” I say in between bites.
“There’s an engagement party, a bridal shower, and, of course, a bachelor and bachelorette party.
” Noah gives a low whistle and snatches the last steamed bun before Damon can get it.
Damon grumbles to himself as Noah grins triumphantly.
“Then, the week of the wedding, there’s going to be a welcome dinner, the rehearsal dinner, and a going away brunch after the ceremony and reception.
“ I blow out a sigh, exhausted just talking about it. “It’s going to be four days of torture.” If Cory and Noah’s smiles are any indication, they’ve got no sympathy for me at all. Dicks.
“You could do with some romance in your life, Adam,” my mom says as she adds more kimchi to her bowl. “All of you, actually. Are none of you going to make me a grandma?”
Everyone shifts uncomfortably in their seats. Dad clears his throat and pours himself more soju.
“Leave the boys alone, Marie. Not everyone is lucky enough to have what we have.” He leans over and gives her a peck on the cheek, which earns him a blush and a quiet giggle.
“C’mon, Dad,” protests Damon. “I’m still sowing my wild oats.”
If Mom were any less of a lady, I would swear I saw her roll her eyes.
“Son, you’ve sown enough oats to give Quaker a run for their money.”
The whole table erupts in laughter. Even Dad chuckles to himself after trying to hide his laugh behind a cough. His “dad jokes” have been getting funnier lately, except when they’re directed at me, of course.
Noah stands and dings his fork on his wine glass.
“Ahem! I have an announcement to make! Luxe Partners has just added Chris Pang to our client roster!” Mom claps excitedly, while the rest of us look at each other confused. Noah nearly pouts, exasperated by his uncool family.
“Chris Pang?” Continued silence…”The best friend in ‘Crazy Rich Asians’?
…It was his wedding they all went to in the movie?
!” A chorus of “oh”s rings out as recognition dawns on us.
Cory just shrugs and starts scrolling on his phone.
Not all of Noah’s clients are A-listers, but Luxe Partners’ roster has been steadily growing since he joined eight years ago.
While we congratulate our brother, Mom runs to the kitchen and comes back with the bottle of champagne she keeps chilled for such occasions. Dad grabs the glasses from the sideboard and Damon uses the distraction to take the last of the sticky chicken.
“Congrats, baby brother,” Henry, Jr. taunts, knowing Noah hates when Henry reminds him he’s six minutes older. Noah playfully shoves him before Henry, Jr. flicks his ear and incites roughhousing at the table, a Park family no-no.
“Knock it off, boys!” shouts Dad, immediately putting an end to the fighting. “Noah, congratulations on your new client. Let’s all raise a glass!”
Everyone raises their glasses and cheers Noah. Despite the teasing, we’re always sure to celebrate one another knowing it’s only a matter of time before someone else gets the kudos.
A buzz in my pocket pulls my attention from the Norman Rockwell painting unfolding in front of me. It’s a new email.
You have one unread message from It’s_Personal!
“I’m going to check upstairs to see if I left my hoodie last week,” I say, while scooting away from the table. I doubt anyone heard me over the Knicks vs. Nets debate that always breaks out when Damon’s home.
If Dad had his way, my room would be his home office, but since Mom has a soft spot for her youngest and Dad has a soft spot for Mom, my room remains a time capsule from 2016.
Overwatch and Final Fantasy XV posters stare back at me from the walls.
I plop down on the flannel sheets and open Etsy to see Maya’s message.
Hello Mr. Park,
Thank you again for choosing It’s Personal for your personalized gift needs!
My engraver has confirmed he can do 200 champagne flutes by June 26th.
This is 25 more than you ordered which I HIGHLY RECOMMEND to cover all your guests, especially since it doesn’t impact the date.
There is a fee for the additional flutes but, as discussed, there is no fee for delivery.
Please let me know if this change works for you.
Best,
Maya Davis
Owner, It’s Personal
She’s online! I click on her screen name so we can chat again in real-time.
It’s_Personal
APark644: Hey, Maya. Are you online?
Several minutes go by with no response. She probably just left her laptop open. I close the chat window, but it pops back open almost immediately.
It’s_Personal
It’s_Personal: Hi, Mr. Park. Yes, I’m online. How may I help you?
APark644: First, you have to stop calling me Mr. Park. It’s Adam.
It’s_Personal: OK. How may I help you…ADAM?
I lean back against my pillows and smile at Maya’s snarky reply. A sassy mouth can be so sexy on a woman.
It’s_Personal
APark644: That’s more like it.
APark644: I just wanted to let you know a) I definitely want to update to 200 glasses, and b) June 26 still works.
It’s_Personal: That’s great! Thanks so much for being so accommodating.
APark644: No prob. And you’re sure they won’t be delayed?
It’s_Personal: The engraver assured me he could to it by then.
APark644: Thanks. You’re really saving my ass.
It’s_Personal: Technically you wouldn’t be in this mess if my scheduler hadn’t malfunctioned.
APark644: Well, still. Thanks.
It’s_Personal: You’re welcome. I’ll keep you updated. Have a good night!
APark644: Good night, Maya.
I sit up and let out a sigh. That wasn’t nearly as flirty as the last time we talked, but I still find myself wondering about this Maya woman.
What does she look like? Where in New York does she live?
I'm pretty sure she'd think I'm a creep if I just came right out and asked those things in the middle of buying champagne flutes. Maybe I’m just starved for good conversation; that’s hardly on the menu in my late night encounters, unless moans and cuss words count.
She could be a crazy cat lady, but, for whatever reason, I enjoy talking with Maya, even teasing her. Next time, I’ll get her to flirt back.