11
Trust
They reached a settlement, and the Chairman put the agreement in writing.
Sonya would live in Seoul in the same complex and remain in California no longer than twelve weeks a year.
She would never divorce Yong-gil, even after the Chairman died.
The boys would inherit the business, and Sonya would have the controlling shares for her lifetime.
The Chairman bought her a three-bedroom apartment in the newest building, a few minutes’ walk from his residence.
Each morning, she went to her former apartment and checked on the household.
It was summer, and the family had a Western-style breakfast: eggs, sautéed mushrooms and tomatoes, yogurt, and toast. Afterward, Yong-gil and their sons left for work as if nothing had changed.
Her sons believed that Sonya had decided to move out because she was going through a change in her life.
Menopause made women peculiar, she’d told them, and this was her solution.
The Chairman looked forward to the mornings when he could be alone with her.
“I’m going to California next month.”
He said nothing, not needing to remind her that it could only be for a month.
“I’ve made all the arrangements with the housekeeper and your secretary, so you won’t be inconvenienced.”
“You look lovely in that dress.”
Sonya wore a camel-colored cardigan over a dark-beige shift and nude stockings. As usual, she wore her wedding band, and, this morning, no other jewelry except for small brown pearls in her ears.
“Do you have a lot of work?” he asked.
After breakfast, she would remain in her home office and study the same packet of documents that the Chairman had reviewed the previous day.
Except for where she slept, little had changed in the main residence.
Even her bedroom remained the same, left unoccupied in case she wanted to come back, puzzling the staff, who knew she lived openly in the building across from theirs.
“I was going to look over the acquisition papers. What did you think of the deal?”
“The numbers make sense. It’s easier to buy this realty company rather than building a new business in Hongdae.”
They enjoyed talking about work. The Chairman believed that she was as smart as his nephew, who had gone to business school.
He wondered what would have happened if she had remained at the company and not married his nephew.
Would he have promoted her? He often imagined the different scenarios.
How could he have known that his wife would die and that the only woman he wanted would be Yong-gil’s wife?
The Chairman smoothed her hair, and Sonya pulled back. She looked in the direction of the kitchen. The cook and housekeeper were absorbed in eating their breakfast.
“Please don’t.” Sonya got up, and the Chairman followed her to her office and closed the door.
Once or twice a week, he tried to wear her down. Sonya refused to give in, but she could not imagine leaving the family home altogether. She loved him, and he knew this.
“I wish you wouldn’t go to California,” he said. “I know we have an agreement, but it is so hard when you are gone.”
Sonya said nothing. When she was in the States, she thought of him even more than usual. She worried about his meals and health more than she did about her sons. They talked on the phone daily, which was also part of their agreement.
“I can’t come here anymore if you insist—”
He moved closer to her, and she turned to the office door and opened it wide. There was no one in the hallway.
“If you keep doing this,” she said to him firmly, “I’ll have to do my work somewhere else.”
The Chairman closed his eyes, preparing himself for the same speech she usually gave. He intended to persuade her. He believed that she would choose to return to their main residence. Her moving out could not possibly be permanent.
“I can get an office at the company. It makes more sense than to work from here.”
The Chairman grimaced, familiar with this oft-repeated statement, which stung like a threat.
“I’ll just stay in the room and let you read. I have my own reading to do.”
Sonya acquiesced. She wanted him to stay with her. When he was near, she felt less anxious, and he felt the same.
After dinner, she returned to her apartment to bathe and sleep. In the morning, she would return. This arrangement had to be enough.
Mido met Tek in the Grand Hyatt hotel lobby.
They got into a cab, and when Tek gave the directions to the driver in Korean, Mido marveled at his fluency. He seemed more confident than when she’d last seen him in Los Angeles.
“I never thought I’d run into you here,” she said.
“Why? I’m Korean, too.”
“Well, yes, and you seem at ease.”
“I love Seoul.”
“Really? Have you spent much time here?”
“Two of our large clients have important business relationships in Korea, so now and then my firm sends me over. Guess what? I’m still on track.”
“To becoming a barrister?”
“Did you ever doubt it?” Tek grinned. It had always been his long-term plan to work at a firm and build commercial expertise so when he became a barrister, he would have ready referral business.
“When you’re a barrister, you’ll get to argue in court, right?” she asked.
“Yes. But sometimes we can work things out before going to court. I can fight you, or we can try to get on.”
The way he said this made her think that Tek had said it before.
“Do you like it here?” he asked.
“Yes,” Mido said.
“Seoul is a shorter flight, compared to the States. Everyone is nice to me here. Even my parents think that Seoul has gotten much better since they left. They’ve started coming back a lot.”
“Wow.” Mido blinked. It had been a little less than a year since she’d arrived, and though she felt comfortable here, she could not have imagined that Tek would like it so well.
“So Mido, why are you here?”
“We opened a hagwon. For college admissions. Kind of like the one we had in Irvine.”
Tek looked puzzled. “There are a lot of those here already, no?”
“Yes,” she answered, remembering how he felt about her work.
Tek had made reservations at a galbi place where he knew everyone. The manager guided them to a wood-paneled private room, past the enormous public dining area swarming with fast-moving servers carrying large circular trays laden with marinated meats and side dishes.
“This is nice,” Mido said of the well-appointed room with the rectangular grill table and four chairs for just the two of them. The server closed the door discreetly as he left.
“I’m trying to impress you. Are you impressed?”
She smiled, her eyes crinkling.
“Are you with that guy now?” Tek asked abruptly.
“Who? Peter?”
“The son of the THT heir.”
“Yes, we’re together. And I didn’t know that about him for a long time.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“You looked him up,” Mido said quietly, as she studied the menu. The prices were high. Tek used to prefer simpler things. Anzac cookies alone would delight him. This dinner would cost several hundred dollars. His clothes, shoes, and even this restaurant. Everything reeked of money.
“Why haven’t you married him?”
“You don’t waste any time.”
“I’m an excellent lawyer,” Tek said. “Have you forgotten?”
“No.”
“I was thinking this afternoon that maybe we were meant to meet here. It’s like neutral territory, or a kind of homecoming for people like us.”
She looked up from the leather-bound menu, trying to see where he was going with this.
“I could never live in California, and you didn’t want to live in Australia. But maybe we can be together here.”
“I’m with Peter.”
Tek appeared thoughtful. “I’ve known you longer than most people in my life.”
Mido closed the menu and stared at him.
“Tek.”
“Koh Mido, my first love.” He laughed ruefully, saying this part in Korean as if he were reciting a moment in his autobiography. “I know, I know. You’re with Peter.”
Mido smiled and let him order their dinner. When they finished eating, she told him that she had to get back. He ordered a taxi for them and dropped her off at her brother’s.
“I leave tomorrow morning for Sydney. Now that I have your number, I’ll send you a message now and then. Not too often. I’m glad we’re back in touch.”
Tek held out his hand for her to shake, and she shook it before getting out of the car.
When Mido opened the door to the apartment, DH and Peter were on the living room sofa watching a Pohang Steelers game, remnants of takeout on the coffee table in front of them.
“Oh, you’re back,” DH said, not turning his eyes away from the screen. “How’s Tek?”
“Fine.” She removed her shoes. Peter waved at her.
“How’s the game?” she asked, gathering the empty containers. She piled them onto a tray and took them to the kitchen counter. When she returned, Peter was watching the game intently. He didn’t say anything.
Mido looked at DH, and he raised his eyebrows conspiratorially.
“I’m going to wash up,” he said. “Early-morning meetings. You stay and watch the game,” DH said to Peter.
Mido sat down. “How was your night?”
“Good.”
Peter smiled at her and appeared measured. He wasn’t the sort to show his hand.
“You two usually watch games at your place.”
“DH invited me over.”
“Are you upset with me?” she asked.
“I’m not.” Peter faced her and looked into her eyes like he was trying to see what was on her mind.
“He leaves tomorrow. For Sydney. Tek just wants to be friends.”
“Men don’t do that.”
Mido had heard this before, but she didn’t believe it.
Lion was both her boss and Yun’s husband, and he was her friend, too.
Her brothers had female friends. The dinner had been lighthearted and fun.
Tek had been flirtatious, and she’d enjoyed the attention, but she would never take it any further than that.
If Peter didn’t want her to be friends with him, then she wouldn’t see him.
“Does it bother you?”
“No,” Peter said.
Mido said nothing and watched a pizza commercial. The second half of the game started, but Peter turned to her.