Chapter 25 #2
“Counselor?” Her eyes widen with amusement. “I mean, hey, if you like it, I love it. But since you like it when he spits there, and there, he can call you whatever he wants.”
She’s right. I think I love it more when he calls me Counselor than when he calls me Honeybee.
“But ummm, are you going to text him back? Don’t get all shy because I’m here.” She turns back to watch the television. “Just act like I’m not here.”
Acting like Demi isn’t in the room is always damn near impossible.
“I’ll text him later,” I mumble, placing my phone down.
“No, you’ll text him now. I want to see what passes for flirting in Minji Lee’s world these days. It’s been over five years since we did stuff like this.” She flops back onto the couch, gesturing impatiently at my phone. “Show me how it’s done, Counselor,” she teases.
I roll my eyes but pick up my phone.
Me
My best friend thinks you’re trying to seduce me with literary references.
Aaron
Is it working? Because I have an entire anthology of Nikki Giovanni ready to deploy.
Demi reads over my shoulder and lets out an appreciative whistle. “Damn, he’s good. Nikki Giovanni? The man knows what he’s doing.”
I can’t help the smile spreading across my face as I type back.
Me
She also thinks you’re a keeper. I told her to slow down; we aren’t there yet.
Aaron
Yet somehow, I know how you take your coffee, you hum Korean lullabies when you’re concentrating hard, and you have a tiny scar on your left hip from falling off your bicycle when you were nine. You only like red M try not to do it to him again unless he deserves it. But just be mindful if you do ghost him again, I don’t think he will spin the block.”
“Enough, Aaron, talk. It’s girls’ night in… Unless you want to talk about giving me that Birkin for—”
“Oh hell no. You lost that Birkin the moment you let that man devour you. I told you to listen to the audiobooks without touching yourself, and you took it to the next level and fucked the author.” She laughs. “My Birkin will stay locked away in my closet.”
I throw a pillow at her face, nearly knocking over her wine glass in the process. “Fine, keep your Birkin. When I make partner, I will definitely get myself two.” I grin as I reach for the bakery bag to pull out another pastry.
“Look at you, manifesting that partnership like a boss,” Demi says, raising her glass. “To future partner Minji Lee, who can buy all the Birkins she wants.”
I clink my glass against hers, but my smile falters slightly. “If I nail the Hui-Wang case.”
“When you nail that case,” Demi corrects. “You’re the best damn attorney in that firm, and everyone knows it. But at every job, there is office politics, so there’s that.”
My phone buzzes again, and I can’t help but check it immediately.
Aaron
I just finished tonight’s signing. A woman asked whether the divorce attorney in my upcoming book is based on a real person. I smiled mysteriously and said, ‘The best characters always are.’ The entire line of readers was convinced I’m secretly married to a ruthless divorce attorney.
I laugh out loud, showing the message to Demi, who immediately grabs the phone.
“Oh, I’m answering this one,” she announces, her fingers already typing.
“Demi, no!” I lunge for the phone, but she dances away, laughing.
“Too late!” she sings, tossing the phone back to me.
I look down at the screen in horror.
Me
If only they knew your ruthless wife is flying to Cali to see you. you visit your family.”
Across from me, Demi silently draws her finger across her throat like an executioner.
“I’ll see if our schedules align,” I utter, recognizing surrender when I taste it.
“Wonderful! I’ll prepare the guest bedroom.” Victory rings in my mother’s voice. “And send a photo of him soon.”
“Annyeong, Umma. I love you.”
“I love you too, my stubborn daughter. You too, Demetria. No more drinking tonight!”
The call ends, and I sink deeper into the couch with a defeated groan. “I’m going to kill you.”
“What? I never mentioned California!” She tops off our glasses, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “Though I’ve got to say, credit card monitoring at thirty-two? Your mother deserves some kind of surveillance award.”
“Not California. Aaron.”
“Oh.” Demi laughs. “So, meeting the parents already? I hear Korean wedding ceremonies are beautiful in the fall.”
“We’re not—” I press my fingertips against my temples. “This isn’t even a relationship.”
“Not with that attitude. But as you said earlier, no more Aaron talk.” She grabs the remote, resuming the show with a satisfied smirk.
I stare at the screen without seeing it, my mind racing.
Aaron in my childhood home, bowing to my mother, eating her japchae while she interrogates him in broken English.
And what happens when our casual thing fizzles out before September?
Or worse—what if the Hui-Wang case explodes and I can’t go at all?
The thought of disappointing my mother again is something I don’t think I can stomach.