Chapter 31
CHAPTER 31
“ W hat?” Mallory blinked, and her hands stilled on her keyboard. She turned her head to look up at him with a distracted expression. “Sorry, there’s a cliff, and I don’t know if gravity is faster than?—”
Dylan interrupted her. “Perpendicular.” The word caught and emerged with a rusty sound, as if not wanting to leave his throat.
“Oh.” Mallory flushed red, as she grasped what he was saying. The color ran up her neck and over her cheeks. “ Perpendicular .”
She looked at her monitor then over at him, and back to her screen, as if confused. She closed the lid, unplugged the power, and carried the laptop to the living room with the cord trailing after her. She eased it into her large tote and moved to the foyer, barefoot.
He wasn’t shoving her out the door. Not like this. Not now. Panic rushed through Dylan, unrelenting, like a crowd was rushing the stage, or the music had disappeared.
The sick feeling spread out from his gut to his limbs. “I didn’t mean you had to leave this second.”
Mallory didn’t meet his gaze. “I get it. I’m a mess. I get like that when I start a new book. Hyper-focused on my writing.” She padded toward the door and then stopped, staring at her bare feet. “I need to change.”
She put her bag down and pivoted for the bedroom, all the while, not looking at him. She was a scattered, confused version of herself.
Dylan sank to the floor, leaning against the wall, unable to move or take back what he’d said. Words had the worst power. The shower in the bathroom pulsed on and minutes later turned silent.
Mallory returned wearing jeans and a t-shirt, her wet hair tied up in a knot. Her plum jacket was zipped over the top, too light for this weather. She somehow looked very American at that moment, like home, but also like he was losing her. She wasn’t saying anything.
She’d pack. They’d talk this through. She’d understand.
Their timing was wrong.
Their relationship too intense.
He was right about this. She’d make him feel better about that truth. They’d…
Mallory grabbed her tote bag and left.
Mallory’s steps were uncertain. She just knew she had to get out of Dylan’s apartment.
Perpendicular? He was the one who’d invited her to come back. They’d spent every night together. They agreed on all the little things. She understood his schedule. She’d been falling deeper and deeper, while he’d… What had she missed?
She didn’t even want to know the answer. Not out here standing on a Seoul street, where the truth might knock her to her knees. She’d reflect on the breakup later, after she got home. No. She couldn’t hold her composure on that long a flight. The last thing she wanted was to spend fourteen hours on a plane, crying. This was not how goodbyes should go. Her hands shook and she tightened them on her shoulder strap. When had she let go of temporary? Why did she need Dylan to be a guy who stayed so badly?
Stop .
Find a hotel. Figure this out later .
Her phone rang. The screen showed Sunny. She answered without thinking.
“Hey.” Sunny jumped right in. “I wanted to set up a time to get your feedback on my interior design. But you have to promise not to hold back. I can’t fix the design if you don’t tell me what’s off.” Her voice held excitement and nerves, but mostly eagerness. “Sorry, and how are you?”
Dumped, rattled, at a loss as to where to go next, trying really hard not to cry on the sidewalk in front of Dylan’s apartment building, Mallory sucked in a breath. Focus on this moment. Nothing past, nothing future. Just right now . “I can come now, if you like?”
“Perfect.” Sunny almost squealed, sounding Jenny’s age with her enthusiasm. “The architect is doing a walkthrough later today. I can tweak a few things based on your feedback. I’ll text you the address.”
Mallory’s phone pinged with the arrival of the location pin. “Got it.” The address was a mile away. A walk would be good to clear her head, bring perspective, and give her time to cope.
She took the route along the river, breathing in the crisp air, taking in the brilliant autumn foliage, while the last few minutes with Dylan played on a loop in her head. She came to no ready conclusions, and the emotions roiling inside her threatened to spill over. She had to separate from what just happened until she had privacy. She’d process her breakup later.
The address wasn’t far, but her hands were chilled by the time she reached the sleek, modern high-rise, and her shoulder ached from the weight of her tote. The physical discomforts were easy to manage compared to her thoughts.
Sunny stood out front, waving.
Mallory pulled her hood down and followed Sunny into the high-ceilinged foyer.
Sunny showed her ID to the guard with a quick greeting, then led Mallory across the pale-gray marble floor to the elevator bay. “I want to get Jenny in too and Mrs. Lee. But I can’t get them here before the architect’s walkthrough. Thank you so much for doing this on short notice.”
“No problem.” The distraction was beyond welcome.
While they waited for the elevator, Sunny pointed down a hallway. “Behind there are the mailboxes and package storage, further down, the pool and gym. That corridor leads to garage parking. I’ll show you those on our way out.”
“Definitely.” The normalcy of touring a place with Sunny was helping her to breathe. Be in the moment.
“All the upper floor units have private garages with dedicated elevators. The rest use the main garage with this elevator bank.”
The elevator pinged and let them off inside a light and bright hallway with white oak floors. “This one.” Sunny keyed their way in.
The space opened to a foyer with a private door on the other side, and with a cupboard for shoes, another one for coats, and a bench and table. “This is the drop zone.”
Focus on the mundane and practical. Offloading her tote helped. Mallory rolled her shoulders. She and Sunny switched from shoes to booties and went inside. The pale oak flooring continued to a white kitchen on the right and a living room on the left.
Sunny had decorated the apartment in muted colors, with puffy throws, creating a mix of sophistication and plush comfort. The room ended at a wall of windows overlooking the river. The view showed off the city sidewalk, framed by manicured grass, and opened up to display the rippling water. The combination of nature and convenience, history and modernity spread before her at the perfect angle.
Buzz.
This was what she’d been looking for.
The doorbell rang behind them.
In came a man about Sunny’s age, who had to be the architect here to see her work. He was handsome, but his assessing frown lessened his good looks.
Or maybe it wasn’t in her to appreciate men right now. No. Don’t go there. Concentrate on the moment and give feedback on Sunny’s work. Be a decent friend.
If this architect had created this vision, there was a lot to praise there.
“You’re early.” Sunny groaned. “My friend is here for a walkthrough. I was going to tweak the place before you came.” Sunny shot her a help-me look.
The architect introduced himself. He wore a full suit and tie and shot a quick look at her jeans and hoodie. His expression was a touch dismissive. “Give the rest of the rundown while I listen,” he said to Sunny. “Did you mention the marble in the foyer?”
“I did,” Sunny lied with a wink her way. She backed up to the entry and gave her a walkthrough with the full realtor’s spiel. The unit had two primaries with en suites, etc. She listed all the building amenities.
The architect coached Sunny on the finer points of the building materials every other sentence or so. “I won’t take less than 2.5 million U.S. Throw in concessions if you have to, but we’re setting a record for this area, or I’m not releasing it.”
“What kind of concessions?” Mallory asked.
“Move-in dates and the like,” the architect said.
Mallory needed a place to stay. This place possessed all the features that she’d been looking for, but the timing was bad, or was it actually perfect?
Returning home to Texas immediately meant she’d only truly been here for Dylan, that South Korea had nothing more to offer her, which wasn’t true. There was a water view to write by, Sunny and Jenny to explore the city with, islands and palaces and temples. Where did she even start? How would she get set up on her own?
The architect went on with more building specifics.
“I’ll make a flyer.” Sunny patted the kitchen island, indicating where she’d drop them.
Mallory turned to Sunny. “Could the concessions include an assistant? One day a week for a few months to help set up the amenities, sort out deliveries, and the like? Would ten thousand a month U.S. be reasonable for that?”
Sunny laughed. “I’d take that job. But no worries, I’ll help whoever moves in get everything hooked up. They won’t need an assistant.”
Sunny undervalued herself. Sunny would hopefully get a realtor’s commission, but Mallory didn’t know the details of their business arrangement.
The architect turned his gaze to Mallory. “Locals don’t need that type of transfer service.” He tilted his head and nodded at Sunny. “But that could appeal to executive relocations and foreigners.” He gave Mallory an approving look for the first time, as if appreciating that she brought perspective to the project by not being local.
Mallory grew more certain of her decision. She didn’t want to go to a hotel. This place was ideal. If real estate here was like the Texas hill country, ideal houses went fast, and for above asking price. This apartment was in the city center, in a great neighborhood, and on the river, plus it had that indescribable “it” factor that said this is the one .
“Sunny, for three million dollars, will you take it off the market immediately, and get me the keys today? We can do a separate contract for your assistance, a once-a-week gig or so for four months. If you can get me the documents tonight, my attorney can read through them and I’ll sign.”
Sunny opened and closed her mouth. “Are you sure?”
Mallory nodded.
The architect looked at Mallory with a still, serious expression. He understood she wasn’t presenting a hypothetical scenario. “I’ll make some calls.”
She’d finish her book here. Invite her cousins up. Explore Korea beyond the city. The decision felt right.
After the architect left, Sunny squealed. Then she took her on an in-depth tour of the building. After a few calls, they re-keyed the keypad and Mallory had keys to the building, and a mailbox with a Seoul address.
Sunny gave her a hug. “You sure you don’t need anything else?” Her eyes got glassy. “Sorry, I’m overwhelmed. You don’t know what this commission means to me.”
It meant Sunny had a new power over her own life beyond that given by her brother or her husband. That wasn’t why Mallory had purchased the apartment, but the outcome warmed her.
Her phone buzzed. Dylan.