“He ignored me. He wouldn’t have taken my hand, and I wasn't about to let him embarrass me.”
Mason shakes his head. “Sorry, but this is all kinds of fucked-up. I don’t like it one bit.”
I glance at Mason. “Let’s see how lunch goes.”
“Mr. Cutler,” I turn my head to the right, and it makes an unbelievable ache pulsate through my head.
Fuck, that hurts.
“Gwaenchanh-a?” the mistress asks if I’m okay and luckily, it’s one of the words I’ve learned, so I’m able to understand her.
“Yes, thank you,” I answer, then I slowly turn to Falcon. “Take over.”
I feel Falcon’s hand on my back, and he quickly explains, “He’s okay. He was in a car accident yesterday. You should go inside. We’ll be right there.”
I hear Lee translate Falcon’s words, and then he says, “They’ve gone inside.”
“I just turned my head too fast. You go ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I’ll go. You stay with him,” Mason orders, then he jogs into the country club.
“We should’ve postponed,” Falcon mutters.
“Yeah, you’re right. I just don’t want to drag this thing out. Mr. Park comes across as an impatient man.”
I take a minute and luckily the ache subsides a bit, but my neck is still stiff as hell.
“Let’s go in,” I say as I begin to walk.
We head past reception, and as we’re about to step into the dining area, someone bumps into me. I instinctively react and grab hold of the person.
“Eomeo!”
Glancing down, I’m met with Lee’s wide eyes as she stands frozen with my hands on her arms. She slowly turns her head to where I’m touching her left arm, and it makes me quickly let go of her.
“Mr. Cutler, I’m sorry.” She takes a couple of steps back and bows before she hurries past me.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the Korean culture,” Falcon mutters when we walk toward the table.Chapter 2LeeMy heart’s racing in my chest as I rush to the restroom. When I lock myself in a cubicle, I lean back against the wall and take a couple of breaths.
This morning Chairman Park told me he would be returning to Korea on Wednesday morning, and that I would have to stay with the Americans.
I haven’t had a moment alone to process any of it. Squatting down, I wrap my arms around my knees and bury my face in the fabric of the dress.
This can’t be happening.
I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.
I hear a door open, and then Jo Yoon-ha calls out, “Park Lee-ann, you’re keeping your fiancé waiting!”
“Sorry,” I call back and standing up, I flush the toilet before I step out of the cubicle.
She grabs my arm and yanks me to her. “Don’t push me or you’ll never see your mother again.”
“I’m sorry.”
This woman has taught me how to hate. I will find a way to get back to Mom, and then I’ll make Jo Yoon-ha pay.
When she lets go of the tight grip she has on my arm, I follow her out of the restroom. Bringing my right hand up, I rub the tender spot, and glancing down I grimace when I see the red finger marks above my elbow.
Chasing all emotion from my face, I take a seat next to Mr. Cutler. He slowly turns his head in my direction, and I lower my eyes to his hand, which is resting on his leg.
Will those hands be kind or cruel?
“Did I do that?” Mr. Cutler exclaims, sounding upset. My eyes dart up to his face, and then I sit frozen as he reaches for my arm. His touch is soft when he brushes his thumb over the handprint Jo Yoon-ha left on me.
“Shit, I…” He looks greatly disturbed by the thought that he has hurt me.
“No.” His eyes dart to mine, and tradition screams at me to lower my gaze, but there’s something in his eyes that makes me stare.
“How did you get hurt?” he asks.
Would it change anything if I told you?
“Park Lee-ann,” Jo Yoon-ha hisses under her breath.
I quickly lower my gaze. “I bumped into a wall,” the lie spills over my lips.
His thumb brushes over the finger marks one more time, and then he murmurs, “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
I nod and keep my eyes down as they begin to talk about business.
When the food is served, it’s so bland and oily, I can only manage a few bites.
I notice that Mr. Cutler doesn’t touch his food either, and glancing at the Chairman and Jo Yoon-ha to make sure they’re still listening to Chairman Reyes, I turn my head slightly to Mr. Cutler, and whisper, “Are you not feeling well?”
He turns his head too fast, and like earlier, his features tense with pain, but then the corner of his mouth lifts and he smiles through whatever discomfort he’s feeling. “I’m okay, thanks for asking.” His eyes dart to Jo Yoon-ha, and he keeps looking at her when he asks, “Did she grab you?”