Skye clears her throat. “We can brew the tea.”
“I know, sweetie. But I’m talking to your boyfriend.”
Her eyes nearly bug out of her head.
“Unless you have something to hide?” he asks.
“You know I’m twenty-five, right?” she asks.
“Yeah, but you’ll always be my little girl.” He turns to the pot. Scoops leaves. Pours water. Replaces the lid.
Skye uncrosses and re-crosses her legs as her dad brings the pot and cups to the table.
He pours carefully. Hands the first to her.
“Thank you.” She takes a long sip of the jasmine green. She doesn’t sigh the way she sighs over her matcha, but she still gets that faraway look, like she’s lost in a world of pure bliss.
“How is work, Forest?” Mr. Kim sits across from us.
“Dad, can we not—”
“If you want to finish your editing upstairs, we can do that. Or we could talk about how you’re posting half-naked pictures of you and your boyfriend on the Internet,” he says.
Her cheeks flame red. “We’re just—A lingerie company. We, uh…”
He looks to me. “I went to medical school. I understand biology. I understand that my daughter is a woman with needs—”
“Oh my God!”
“I’ll support whatever you want, sweetie. But if that’s posting explicit images on the Internet we need to talk about what that means for your future.”
“It’s my fault, sir.” I fight a blush. Fuck, I’m twenty-eight and my fake girlfriend’s dad is questioning my intentions. What the hell is happening to my life? “A lingerie company offered Skye a fee to post images of their products. I’m the one who suggested I model. I promised I’d keep it tame, but—”
“You did post that from your account, didn’t you, honey?” her dad asks.
“It’s just marketing.” She blushes. “They want to sell sexy.”
He nods with understanding. “And you don’t mind strangers looking at your bare ass?”
“Dad!”
“You can show your ass to strangers but I can’t ask you about it?”
“Can we just not?” She swallows the rest of her cup. “I’m helping them advertise a thong. That’s part of it. I’m lucky they’re offering money at all. Lots of plus-sized influencers aren’t offered cash—”
“Sweetheart, you know your value better than that,” he says.
“Am I in trouble for posting a picture of my butt or for not asking for enough cash?” Her brow furrows. “Are you really—”
“You’re not in trouble.” He looks to me. “Do you think there’s anything wrong with me making sure my daughter understands how her decisions might affect her future?”
“With all due respect, sir, Skye knows what she’s doing. She’s been developing a following for years. She’s an amazing photographer and a talented model. And her sense of style is unrivaled.” I take a long sip. It wets my throat, but it doesn’t chase away that sense that I’m suddenly back in high school.
Mr. Kim nods. “You understand some future employers will frown upon this?”
“My face isn’t in the shot. If I decide to shut down my blog, no one will know it was me.” She turns to her dad. “But, yes, I do realize that.”
He nods. “And you, Forest? You’re supporting yourself?”
“Oh my God.” She hides behind her hands.
“He’s always staying with his parents,” Mr. Kim says.
“Yes, that would be so embarrassing, if he still lived with his parents.” She sighs. “What a loser? Who would even talk to such a pathetic figure?” She shoots her dad a cutting look.
He returns a watch your manners, young lady look.
She has a point. She lives with her parents. Should he really be questioning whether or not I live on my own?
Her parents claim they love having her here.
Any suggestion that they don’t is going to eat at her. She hates that she can’t support herself. That she’s still struggling to find a full-time job.
“Yes, I have an apartment in West LA,” Forest says. “The shop is doing well. I could support Skye if she wanted that.”
She lowers her hands enough to look me in the eye. “You could?”
“Yeah. If you wanted to live with me while you built your following.” I turn to Mr. Kim. “Skye likes hanging out at my dad’s place. She likes the basketball court.”
He laughs. “Should we play a game, sweetie?”
“Is it who can die of embarrassment first? I think I’m winning,” she says.
He just laughs. “We go through this every day. I’ve been asking about you, but Skye doesn’t like to share.”
“She can be tight-lipped. I try to respect that,” I say. “I try to give her what she wants. Sometimes, I screw it up, but I’m learning.” My eyes meet hers for a second, then she looks away.
“We, uh… we were actually leaving,” Skye says. “So, Dad, thank you so much for the tea. It’s delicious—”
“But no matcha latte?” he offers.
“Good in a different way. And, uh, I can’t wait to make bulgogi tonight. I can bring home some more green onions.” She lowers her hands. Forces her lips into a smile.