Chapter 9 #3
“Fifteen grand for the week,” I say, then huff a laugh with a slow shake of my head, because that’s an outrageous sum of money and it’s almost embarrassing that I thought I was getting that much.
“And the job was just what it sounds like: I pretend to be Kira’s boyfriend for the summit.
I’d get to eat whatever I wanted and lounge at a lakeside mansion, and all I had to do was fawn over Kira like she’s god’s gift to mankind, and then go back home. It was easy money.”
And I still fucked it up. Fifteen grand. Fifteen GRAND… gone, because I can’t control my fucking temper.
Young-gi leans back in his chair, and stares. He does that to me a lot.
But his eyes seem far away, his mind clearly working on something else, so I take the chance to ogle him without him noticing.
Goddamn, he’s so fine.
“Then the solution is simple. We’ll continue the weekly rate.”
Young-gi’s sudden return to the present makes me jump, and I hope he didn’t just catch me staring at his chest like I want to rip off his suit and lick his pecs.
I subtly wipe my lips to make sure I wasn’t drooling or something while he keeps talking, that goddamn mouth of his moving around the shape of his words like some kind of hypnotic, sexy magic spell.
“We’ll extend the contract, and you’ll continue to play the part of boyfriend, now fiancé, until I can make sure the Vandmorsons won’t come after you, even after the ‘engagement’ is dissolved. ”
Wait, I’m sorry, I was daydreaming about sucking you off, bratva-boss say what now? “Huh?”
“It won’t be permanent, obviously,” he waves away my shock, and Kira’s stammering surprise.
“I was under the impression that you were romantically involved. Clearly, that isn’t the case, but something still needs to be done to keep the Vandmorsons from causing any trouble.
You’ve already provided a cover story, so we’ll just keep it going. Simple.”
“Why?”
Young-gi tilts his head at me, studies me, and I bristle.
“Why?” I demand again, too impatient to wait him out like he’s always waiting me out.
“What do you mean, why?” Kira asks, so gentle and kind.
“Why do you give a fuck if Brian’s bitch-ass family comes for me?
” I ask, my eyes not leaving Young-gi. “What does it matter to you? I’m not Kira’s boyfriend, I’m not her anything.
I’m not Tommy Claremont from Manhattan, and I don’t have any money–I’m not important.
I’m nobody. None of this matters, alright?
I’ll disappear, and that will be that. End of story.
What happens to me afterward isn’t your problem. ”
Crickets. I’m getting angry, but Young-gi is calm, collected, stern. Bossy.
“What happens to you is my problem. I’m making it my problem, and it’s going to stay my problem.
What you did for Kira was nothing to be sorry for.
You deserve a reward, so if fifteen grand a week and whatever you want for the foreseeable future sounds good, let’s call it a reward.
If you don’t like the idea of getting recognized for what I see as good service, then we can just keep calling it a job.
I’m hiring you to keep playing the part of Kira’s boyfriend, now fiancé. ”
I scowl. “I don’t need your help, or your charity. Kira doesn't need me.”
“Are you turning down the job?”
I open my mouth to snap that yeah, I’m turning down his joke of a job. Then I pause. And I reconsider. I mull it over. I narrow my eyes and cross my arms and chew on the idea for a minute. I don’t like the conclusion I come to. Suspiciously, I ask him, “Fifteen grand every week? For how long?”
“Let’s say four months, at least.”
My eyes get round and I rock back into my chair. I don’t have the math skills to mentally calculate the dollar amount that turns into, but holy fuck, that’s a lot of weeks to be getting fifteen grand.
Glancing at Kira, I see how uncertain she is, and my enthusiasm wanes. “I’ll think about it.”
“It’s a long flight,” Young-gi says. “You have time.”
The command is blatant–decide by the time we land, he’s telling me.
I give him my best fuck you smile. He stares. Of course he does. Before it gets too intense, his phone rings and he checks the screen.
“I need to take this.” He strides into another room, leaving me and Kira to come to terms with his insane plan.
I clear my throat and look at her, embarrassed. She’s chewing on her lip and fidgeting with her hands in her lap. The elephant in the room is trumpeting and stomping and impossible to ignore, but I decide to ignore it anyway, at least for now.
“Can we watch a movie?” There’s a big screen on one wall that slides out so we can lean back on the couches and watch comfortably without craning our necks. I didn’t use it last time, because we were busy going over our cover story, but I really wanted to.
“Sure, what should we watch? I’ve got all the streaming platforms, and the staff keep a selection of downloaded films, too.”
“Whatever you want.”
“Action/adventure?” Kira asks, like maybe she didn’t hear me. “Horror? Comedy? Romance?” She teases the last one, like I’m supposed to say ‘no way!’.
“Whatever you want. Really. I’ll watch anything. I like movies, but I haven’t watched one in a long time.”
She studies me, a ghost of her uncle’s bad staring habit in her behavior, before she hums and grabs the remote. “We’ll narrow it down together. Okay?”
I sigh. “Do you have a movie you like to watch when you want to feel better? When you just want to feel good?”
She hesitates, and I keep my eyes on the screen. I feel her watching me, curious and maybe pitying. “Yeah, Tommy. I think I know just the thing.”