Chapter 3
Three
Sophie
The stapled packets of papers hit the gleaming table of the conference room with a hearty smack.
Marilyn liked to have things ready for whatever clientele she met with, and it was part of Sophie’s duties to make that possible.
Memories of her mother dragging herself into the kitchen after a twelve-hour shift at their local hospital, the same hospital she’d clawed her way up, were riveted into Sophie’s mind.
Her mom didn’t need to work as hard anymore, but it didn’t matter.
I need to push myself harder if I don’t want her exhaustion to go to waste.
Sophie finished distributing the pamphlets and adjusted the water bottles in the center of the table, turning them so the logos faced outward.
Marilyn bustled in, a cloud of floral perfume following in her wake. She tossed her honey-blonde hair behind her shoulder as she settled into the chair at the head of the table. “What time will the client be here again?”
Sophie ignored the fact that since Marilyn was the boss, she should know. “They should be here any minute.”
Note to self: Have Chlo shoot me if I get like that.
Sophie walked around the table again, adjusting the packets, gazing at the swirling logo and neat text covering the front page.
‘REPRESENTATION REGARDING LA BELLE EPOQUE GROUP’
Their current clientele was a family-run French wine importer, headed by the father, with both his sons holding shares and seats of power.
Success hit hard, and the family held a spot on the Forbes Billionaires List. But that didn’t mean they were above further improving their image.
“Speak of the devil,” she murmured as three men followed Covey’s receptionist into the room.
“Thank you for meeting with us,” the oldest man said, a French accent heavily curling his English.
“Thank you for coming in, Mr. DuBois,” Marilyn replied. “This is Sophie Huang, my executive assistant. She’ll be working alongside me on your campaign.”
“Francois, please,” Mr. DuBois inclined his head toward the other two men. “My sons, Antoine and Lucien.”
“Tony and Luc,” Antoine corrected, no accent to be heard in his words. “Our full names can be a mouthful.”
All the men wore matching expressions of nervous anticipation for the meeting, although Tony’s leaned more uptight.
On the other hand, Luc stared at the table with determination, like he was dead set on making his father proud.
The familiar expression curled Sophie’s gut, and she gripped her pen tighter.
Luc shifted, and sunlight dappled his light brown complexion, slanting across a cutting jaw.
Her gaze met Luc’s, who examined her with a frown on his face.
His dark eyes flicked to hers, and he reached for the pen she had placed next to the packet earlier, scribbling something down.
Setting the pen down, he cleared his throat, tapping the top of the paper.
But Sophie ignored him and zoned in on the relay zooming between Marilyn and Francois.
The meeting ended with Marilyn, Francois, and Tony standing by the door, talking about some of the processes Covey would utilize.
As Sophie started collecting the pens, someone cleared their throat.
“Ms. Huang, do you have a moment?”
She met the warm, brown eyes of Lucien DuBois and nodded, not pausing in her movements. Why was he talking to her instead of with Marilyn when Sophie wasn’t the one overseeing his case?
“I couldn’t help but notice your coffee cup,” he started.
She paused briefly. This was what he wanted to talk about?
“Oh, yes. What about it?”
He motioned to the logo on her empty cup. “My friend goes to that shop. He just discovered it a few days ago.”
She hummed as a sneaking suspicion crept into her chest. “Really? That’s a coincidence. Why does he go there? They’re not exactly known for their stellar drinks.”
Luc snorted. “He says it gets the job done as well as any other coffee.”
“Okay, but he knows it’s not good, right?”
“So we’ve tried to tell him,” Luc mused. “Anyway, I was going to ask you for your thoughts on their coffee, but I guess you answered my question.”
Sophie frowned as the nagging in her chest grew. “Right, well, while I have you. I’m sorry for how out of the blue this is, and maybe it’s just the preparation I’ve been doing, but I swear I’ve seen your company name be—”
“Lucien, allons-y!” Francois interrupted.
“Oui, papa.” Luc glanced at Sophie again. “Thanks for meeting with us; it was beneficial. The friend that I mentioned, he’s currently looking for some new members for his PR team, and—”
“Are you trying to poach me right now?” Sophie asked. So this was his objective?
He chuckled. “No, but I’ll point him to Covey for any services he may need in the meantime. After all, you never know when you’ll need external help. Anyway, have a good day.”
He shook her hand, then peeled away to join his father and brother by the door. The three shook Marilyn’s hand, then took their leave.
As the door closed behind them, Marilyn eyed her assistant. “What did Luc want to talk to you about?”
Sophie shrugged. “Nothing important. What did you tell Francois?”
Marilyn smiled ruefully. “Deflecting the situation. I’ve taught you well.”
Sophie snorted as she shuffled the crowd of pens from one hand to the other. But not enough to give me the promotion.
“I know what you’re thinking right now.” Marilyn stopped in front of her office, tapping the toe of one of her no-nonsense wedges. “And you need to stop. Sophie, I’m not saying no. Just not yet.”
“I know, I know.” Sophie shook her head and resisted the urge to squeeze the pens. “If you need me, I’ll be getting some work done in my office.”
Marilyn nodded before disappearing into her own office.
Sophie scooted down the hall and shut her door. She sighed, rolling her neck. On top of that, a knot formed between her shoulder blades.
But she sat at her desk and pulled up the document she’d been reading.
Chloe flipped the sizzling meat with a pair of tongs. “Okay, explain to me how you met three hot guys in one day.”
Sophie and her friends decided to meet up for dinner at a Korean BBQ place Oliver discovered in K-Town. Apparently, it boasted the closest Samgyupsal Gu to his mom’s.
Taylor gestured to Sophie with his beer bottle. “Also, are we absolutely sure Luc wasn’t flirting with you?”
She shook her head and took a shot of Soju. “I didn’t get that feeling, and he brought up his friend. When has a guy ever done that if he wants to ask you out?”
“Sophie, really? Plenty of guys do.” Oliver stuck a piece of grilled pork belly in his mouth.
She shrugged. “Okay, whatever. But even if he did ask me out, I would’ve turned him down. I’m already going on a date with James on Friday.”
“You’re what?!” Chloe dropped her meat in the sauce she dipped it in. “Oh, my God, Soph. What did we say about telling us things?”
Sophie winced as sauce splattered on her.
It was a habit that chased her since she was young—keeping quiet equated to low maintenance.
Even though her mom always made time for Sophie and her brother, Sophie wasn’t about to add to her mom’s load by telling her easily solvable problems.
“Sorry, but yeah, he asked me this morning.” She poured herself more Soju and downed it.
“Don’t you think that’s a bit fast?” Oliver asked. “I mean, you just met him last Friday.”
“Of course, I thought of that,” she said. “But you and Taylor met on an app and went on a date after four lines of conversation, and look how well that turned out.”
“Okay, but that’s a rare case.”
Chloe snipped the tongs. “Hey, if Sophie wants to go on this date, then let her.”
“Okay, okay,” Oliver acquiesced, though there was no exasperation in his tone. “Oh, right, speaking of Friday. Babe, did you buy the tickets?”
Taylor nodded enthusiastically.
As the two started talking, Chloe turned to Sophie. “So, James asked you out. Where are you going?”
Sophie opened her mouth before shutting it again.
Chloe blinked. “Oh my God, you don’t know? Okay, text him and—”
Sophie cleared her throat.
Chloe’s eyes quickly examined her. “Did you forget to get his
number?”
Sophie flushed. “I’ll ask him tomorrow!”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. You forgot to get his number?” Oliver cut in.
Sophie nodded, the fragrant smoke from the grilling meat sending her into a coughing fit.
It hadn’t entirely been her fault she forgot, but embarrassment spiked in her gut anyway.
“You do want to go out with him, right?” Taylor asked.
She nodded, not hesitating in her answer.
Perhaps she was approaching things differently than with her exes, but there was no doubt she wanted to date James.
“Okay, at least tell me you Googled him,” Chloe said. “Just to make sure he’s not a serial killer or something.”
Taylor whipped out his phone. “On it.”
But Sophie shook her head. “No, I want to be the one to do it. I just haven’t had time, but I promise I will.”
They left the restaurant an hour later, with full bellies and a few takeout boxes in hand.
Taylor and Oliver split off and piled into a taxi for their apartment in SoHo.
The two women meandered down the muggy streets near K-Town, Chloe’s arm thrown around Sophie’s shoulders.
Sirens blared, and the moon hung low through a mist of smog.
Compared to the crystal-clear nights Sophie grew up with in Connecticut, it was terrible. But if someone offered her the chance to go back, she would never take it.
Nothing ever changed in her hometown, whereas in New York City, everything was in constant flux. The positivity of it depended on the day, but that was what was exciting.
Someone cuffing her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts, and they rounded the corner, almost walking straight into the side of someone coming out of a small store.
“Oh, my—Wait. Sophie, right?”
Sophie blinked at the man she’d narrowly avoided. It took her a moment, but then recognition slammed down.
He looked a bit different—maybe it was the fact he lost the blazer—but all in all, there was no mistaking Lucien DuBois.
She took a step back, dragging Chloe with her. “Hi.”
Her friend smiled and cleared her throat.
Sophie snapped out of her shock to introduce the two.
“Ah, so you’re the shareholder,” Chloe said.
“In the flesh,” Luc said.
Sophie's brows raised at the mild curiosity tracing Chloe’s face. “What are you doing here?”
Luc cleared his throat and adjusted the sleeves of his shirt. “This shop sells the Soju I like. Sometimes, you’re not in the mood for a Bordeaux.”
She smiled. “Right, but don’t you have … I don’t know, people for this or something?”
He laughed. “I mean, yeah. But it’s better if I do it.”
Sophie cleared her throat. “Right, well, we shouldn’t keep you. I bet you’re busy.”
“Actually, I’m not. I’m just meeting my friends for a bit, but I don’t think one of them is even back yet.” He nodded toward a car parked by the nearby curb. “So yeah, I have some time. Do you two need a ride?”
Sophie bit back her sigh. Of course, he owned a car in the city, and of course, it was a BMW.
“Yes,” Sophie said at the same time Chloe blurted a hearty refusal.
Luc laughed awkwardly. “Uh …”
Sophie flashed a smile as Chloe latched onto her arm.
‘What are you doing?!’ Chloe demanded silently with her eyes.
‘Scoring us a ride home. You really want to take the subway?’ Sophie retorted with a flick of her brows. ‘Besides, I trust him. He won’t kidnap us.’
‘Famous last words.’
Luc cleared his throat into the silence. “So …”
She blew a breath out of her nose and smiled. “Sure.”
Chloe’s nose wrinkled. “If I get kidnapped, I’m writing you out of my will.”
“How are you going to do that if you’re kidnapped?” Sophie mused.
“I’ll get Oliver to do it.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how that works,” she said.
Chloe pulled open the back door of Luc’s car. “Okay, well, whatever. I’ll sort out the kinks later. Gonna have a fuck ton of time to think about it when I'm kidnapped.”
Sophie handed Chloe her cane, then sidled in after her. “Luc’s not going to kidnap us.”
“Sophie, you’ve met the man once!” Chloe retorted. “Forgive me if I don’t think that’s the most hopeful statement.”
“Look, I know it’s a risky move, but did you want to walk instead?”
“If it means keeping my life, yes. This is so unlike you.” She peered close. “You look a little red. I think the Soju got to you.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “I feel fine.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
She huffed and settled back against the leather seat.
The inside of the car was as unsurprising as the outside. It definitely fell into the category of what she expected for a company shareholder and board member.
But she hadn’t foreseen how … cluttered it was.
Two coffee cups filled the cup holder by the front seats, papers littered the floor, and a plastic bag sat on the passenger seat, filled with crumpled napkins and tissues.
“Sorry for the mess.” Luc hopped into the driver’s seat and turned on the car. Immediately, a French song blasted from the speakers, and he laughed awkwardly, turning off the audio. “Sorry. Uh, where to?”
Sophie hesitated. Oh, God. I didn’t think this through.
Rattling off the number of the next street over, she ignored the triumphant look Chloe shot.
Settling back in the seat, Sophie looked out the window, breathing in the distinctive “New Car” smell.
They stopped at a traffic light, the slice of red illuminating a coffee cup from Joseph’s, and the name scrawled atop it.
She blanched, her stomach twisting as the pieces clicked into place.
“What’s wrong?” Chloe muttered.
Sophie sucked in a breath and ignored her. “Um … Luc. What did you say your friend’s name was again? The one who’s looking for some new PR help?”
He idled at another red light. “Hm? Oh, it’s James. James Tian.”