by Nadia Lee
The man’s in a suit—as is the custom for a matsun meeting. His black hair is neatly slicked back, showing a lean face with a firm jaw. His eyes are so dark they look almost pure black, which is a bit unusual.
He stands at the sight of me and extends a hand. “I’m Ryu Taejo.” His voice is low and slightly raspy. A smoker, possibly. “Nice to meet you.”
I pump twice firmly. “Hae Yuna. Pleasure.”
“You have a great grip.” He waits until I’m seated before sitting down himself, all polite and smooth.
“Years of playing the piano.”
“Yes, I heard about that.”
A server brings out menus and drops them off, but I don’t look at mine.
“Just so you know, I have a woman I love,” Taejo says once we’re alone.
I raise an eyebrow. “You must’ve hidden her well.” Or his family has been extremely sloppy in getting rid of her.
“It’s for the best,” he says calmly.
For the woman, no doubt. I doubt his parents would be very understanding of him falling in love with a woman who has less-than-acceptable qualifications. “So why are you here?”
“My mother insisted.” A small smile twists his lips.
“So we do have something in common.”
He laughs. “And do you have a man you love?”
Declan immediately pops into my head. If this were before last Sunday, I would’ve said yes. But now…
“No.” I forcibly shove him out of my head. But something must be wrong with my filter, because I add, “Have you ever missed her birthday? Or an anniversary?”
I immediately regret asking the question. I only wanted to know if I’m being unreasonably upset with Declan. But why should I have to confirm my emotions with a stranger?
Taejo frowns a little. “No. Never.”
His ready answer makes me pause. I suppose he could be lying. But his gaze is too serious.
“Not even when you have an important business deal?” I say lightly to hide how much his response surprised me and made me feel sadder and more upset about Declan.
“There will always be another deal. It isn’t worth neglecting her on a special day just for more money. If I wanted a wife who I don’t mind abandoning on her birthdays and anniversaries, I would’ve married one of the women my mother pushed in my direction years ago.”
Hearing it hurts more. Why couldn’t Declan have seen that my birthday was about more than just an expensive gift? “Then I’m very glad you’re being honest with me today. I’m not interested in a man who loves someone else. I’m not that desperate, and I deserve better.”
And I do. That’s why I’ve stubbornly fought my parents all these years. I’m not going to change that just because Declan hurt me.
“I’m glad we understand each other.” A sliver of warmth shows on his face. “It’s best if we tell our mothers you didn’t care for me.”
“That’s not a problem.” I finally pick up my menu. “Separate checks?”
We should at least have a meal to appease our parents. Otherwise, they’ll just insist that we do this again because there’s no way we could learn about our compatibility so fast.
He shakes his head. “That would horrify my mother. My treat.”
“Thank you.”
I have a simple entrée, then a slice of cake so sweet it almost rots my teeth on the spot. I need something to erase the sad bitterness in my heart.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Declan
I set my whiskey down on the bar. “I sent her a gift for her birthday. Then I called to say I was sorry about missing the party. I texted her I was sorry. I hung out like a loser in the lobby to see her. I tried to tell her how sorry I was and to figure out how to make it up to her. How can she still be this upset?”
Aiden gives it some thought. He’s the only one I can talk to right now. Hell, I’ve listened to him whine about women often enough. He can give me some of his time.
Aiden finishes his beer. “Is she a crazy hot chick or a normal hot chick? Be honest.”
“Normal hot.” Crazy would be Jessica and Ella.
“Then maybe it isn’t really about the party.”
“Of course it’s about the party. She was fine until I missed it.”
“Come on, man. Women operate on emotion. You know the worst kind of witness to cross-examine? Emotional frickin’ women. Why? Because when they’re emotional, they make connections in their minds that shatter your understanding of the laws of nature and common sense. Plus they never really say what they mean.”
“But that’s my point. She said it wasn’t about the party, so it has to be about the party! When women get mad, they always say the opposite of what they mean.”
Aiden stops. “Yeah, that’s true.”
“Like you ask, ‘What’s wrong?’ and they say, ‘Nothing.’ You know that’s bullshit.”
“Also true. But you aren’t listening. Did she really mean ‘party’ the way you and I understand ‘party’? It probably has ten other definitions in her mind. You just don’t know what they are.”
“Like what?”
Aiden snorts. “Dude. Who the fuck knows?”
“I can’t think of anything. And I can’t apologize if she doesn’t tell me, can I?”
“Yeah, but she’s not going to tell you. And you better hope she doesn’t tell you, because if she does, it means she’s never forgiving you for not figuring it out in the first place.”
“Ah, fuck.”
Aiden slaps my back. “Hey, it could be worse. All you have to do is think about what she could’ve meant when she was angry with you for ‘missing the party.’” He makes heavy scare quotes in the air with his fingers.
I get two more drinks, then call for a ride because Aiden has to get up early to get ready for some court thing.
It’s driving me crazy that she went to see a dossier guy today. This burning knot in my gut is something I’ve never felt before. I don’t want her to meet anybody. A date? With which one of the hundred men?
I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. It really doesn’t matter which asshole she saw today. He’s never going to put her first like she wants. He’s going to be an overeducated workaholic who won’t—
Oh, shit. That’s it!
I jackknife up. She thought I missed the party because I didn’t put her first. To her, me choosing a meeting over her is a slap in the face.
Even I agree that I shouldn’t have gone. Tim got the offers from Melvin and Josh, and he’s looking them over for me before getting Aiden involved. But the meeting itself isn’t what got me the offers. The directors wouldn’t have offered me the roles if they didn’t think I was perfect for them, no matter how much ego was at stake. At the end of the day, Hollywood is about money. The directors know they’re only as good as their last movie, just like the talents they work with. And “good” means box office.
I knew it was her birthday and I said I’d be there. But I didn’t go. That’s not putting her first.
And a simple apology isn’t going to cut it. I can’t believe how much I screwed up. Argh. I’m an idiot!
She fled her country to avoid marrying someone who didn’t care about her. She said it was that important. And I remember the soft look in her eyes when she was gazing at her friends at the hospital when Ivy had her babies. Yuna wants that for herself—that love, that special bond.
What if I tell her I love her? I’ve known it for a while now. Would it reassure her that I’d never abandon her like that again?
No… She won’t accept that. Not so easily. I saw how she was that ex-boyfriend waiter guy. She was meat-locker cold with him.
And to make things worse, she might think I’m just saying, “I love you,” to get back in her good graces. That’d be worse than the situation I’m in now. Just thinking about it feels like a burning coal in my gut.
But…wait. She said she’d have forgiven him if he’d played a Chopin waltz!
That’s what
I need to do! Play a good, wholesome waltz by Chopin. I’ll pick the most famous one, so she knows I put in the effort. That should soften her toward me.
I search for the most famous one. Google says it’s Waltz in A-flat major, opus 42. I watch the YouTube video that pops up…and my heart sinks. Jesus. It sounds hard.
Should I still try to wing it?
No. Yuna ripped apart that song Melvin’s daughter played, which I thought sounded fine. She’ll cover her ears and run in the other direction if I butcher the waltz.
Maybe I should settle for something a bit less famous. But how many waltzes are there?
Back to Google. Turns out there’s a lot. I sample a few, and they all sound really complicated. What if Yuna doesn’t like some of them? She might think I half-assed it and get offended.
I sigh. I can’t figure this out on my own. I need expert help. Somebody who knows what I need and also knows Yuna well enough to steer me in the right direction.
But all of Yuna’s friends are mad at me. And I don’t know if anybody can…
Wait. Ivy.
Yuna said she met her at Curtis. And Ivy has a piano. Which means she understands what I need.
Given how furious she was the last time I went over, she might kick me in the balls instead. But I’ll get up and let her do it again if it’ll get her to help me.
Because winning Yuna back is what matters. And I’m going to do whatever it takes to prove that I’m the man for her.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Declan
The next morning, I eat an extra-healthy breakfast and dress neatly in a blue shirt and jeans. I start to walk out of the house until I realize it’s barely six.
Not the best idea.
But anxiety and excitement are building. I couldn’t sleep. I’m dying to get started on Project Win Yuna Back.
I have the SPIRIO play the “Chopsticks” Yuna and I performed together. It makes me smile. Yuna was perfect. She’s always perfect.
I’ve got some time to kill, so I read emails from Tim. Then I send a text to Benedict, asking him if he can cut his vacation short because I really need somebody to come deal with my other phone—the one exploding with texts and so on.
Finally I leave at nine thirty, which is respectable, and crawl through SoCal traffic that moves slower than a horde of turtles on tranquilizers.
When I finally get to Ivy’s doorstep, though, she doesn’t look pleased. I hear babies crying inside, and I suspect she’s out here because her husband’s probably dealing with the twins.
“Hi,” I say with a smile, trying not to appear desperate. Nobody likes desperation.
“What are you doing here? Yuna’s not here, and I’m not forwarding any messages to her, either, in case that’s what you want.”
“It’s not. I was wond—”
“Good. Because I’d rather break a finger.”
Ouch. That’s harsh, coming from a pianist. “I’m not here to make another apology. I’m here to prove that I’m serious about making things right with Yuna.”
She gives me a look reserved for the intellectually challenged. “And how are you going to do that?”
“You remember how I group-texted you that Yuna and I ran into her money-grubbing ex at a restaurant and asked you never to take her there?”
“I do. So what?”
“She told me he’d have to play a Chopin waltz to earn her forgiveness.”
“And…?”
“So I’m going to learn one. And play it for Yuna to show her how committed I am.” I give her my most earnest smile.
Ivy looks at me like I’ve lost my sanity. “It takes years to be able to play Chopin well. Can you even read music?”
“Yes. Well, I mean, pretty well. I had some piano lessons when I was a kid.”
She crosses her arms, a veneer of condescension on her face. “Some lessons when you were a kid. We’re talking a Chopin waltz here, not one of Satie’s Gymnopédies. You’d have to practice for hours a day for weeks and weeks. And you’re clearly a very busy person. I don’t know how a man who can’t show up for his girlfriend’s birthday party has the time to practice for more than a minute.”
Her cynicism hurts, but it’s valid, and I have no one to blame but myself. So all I can do is say, “Because I’m that serious.”
Ivy stares at me for a long, long moment, while my heart thumps in my chest. If she says no, I don’t know who I’m going to go to. I have a feeling that just any old Chopin waltz won’t do.
“Fine,” she says crisply. “You can come in. And we’ll discuss this.”
“Thank you,” I say, my shoulders relaxing a little.
“Don’t think I’m going to make it easy on you, though,” she warns me as she walks along the hallway.
I follow. “I don’t care. You can smack my hands with a ruler if you want.”
“We don’t teach piano to people that way.” She gives me a slightly nasty look. “On the other hand, anyone who hurts my friend is hard to regard as a person.”
I just smile. She can assign me to whatever species she wants as long as I get Yuna back.
We walk through the door at the end of the hall. It’s a huge room with large windows facing the garden. In the center is a gigantic grand piano. It seems bigger than the one I have. On the side is a tiger lily.
Tony’s pacing around the piano, holding Katherine. I only know it’s the girl because she’s in a pink onesie. The other baby, who’s in blue, is aimlessly waving his fists in a cradle that’s rocking itself.
Katherine is drooling on Tony’s shirt, making the shoulder area visibly wet. He doesn’t seem to care, though, from the way he is keeping her close, his hand protective.
“What’s he doing here?” Tony asks. His tone conveys puzzlement, like I must have bribed his wife or something.
“He wants to master one of Chopin’s waltzes,” she says mockingly.
Tony looks at me. “So you should call a piano teacher…?”
“He wants to play it for Yuna.” Ivy clearly doesn’t believe that I’ll do it.
Okay, fine, she’s skeptical. Still, I need somebody on my side, so I tell Tony my reason. He raises his eyebrows and looks slightly impressed, although the expression vanishes the instant Ivy cuts her eyes at him.
“I think ‘Grande Valse brillante’ will do quite well,” Ivy says.
Tony shoots her a mildly reproachful look. “That’s mean.”
“Fine.” Ivy looks at her fingertips. “Opus 34 Number 1.”
“Also mean.”
“Is she giving me difficult ones?” I ask.
“Yes,” Tony says. “Very.”
“You know Chopin pretty well.” I have no idea what pieces Ivy’s referring to. Maybe I should memorize a list of Chopin’s works. That might go toward impressing Yuna as well.
“I play a little. When Ivy and I first met, we played Schubert’s Fantasie together,” Tony explains.
Holy shit. This man can perform Schubert with somebody who went to Curtis? I regard him with renewed respect.
Ivy’s mouth is set in a flat line as she looks at her husband. “Our would-be suitor might as well challenge himself.”
“He’ll never learn to play them before Yuna leaves for Korea.”
“When is she leaving?” I ask, trying to figure out the time frame.
“Why? So you can give up now?” Ivy asks.
Time for a little pushback. “I’m not that weak-willed. Ideally, I can convince her before she leaves Los Angeles, but if not, I’ll fly to Korea to play for her there.”
Ivy frowns and pulls back slightly.
“That’s the problem,” Tony says. “You’re never going to be able to play something like a Chopin opus perfectly with less than a decade of practice.”
“Okay, then let’s pick another piece. I’ll be damned if Yuna has more dates with the Hundred.”
“More dates?” Ivy’s eyes grow sharp. “What do you mean?”
“She had lunch with some dossier
guy yesterday.” I try to maintain a calm tone, but fail badly. I’m so mad at myself that she went on that date.
Ivy places a hand on her forehead. “Oh God. What are we going to do?” she says to nobody in particular as she turns in a circle like a stressed-out hamster.
Tony puts a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll support her and make sure she’s happy. That’s all we can do.”
Ivy looks at me, then back at her husband. Some unspoken communication passes between them. Hopefully, it’s something along the lines of “Let’s help Declan! Yuna shouldn’t have to marry a dossier!”
Finally, Ivy sighs. “What do you suggest?”
Tony thinks for a moment. “Opus 69 Number 1.”
“You know it’s also called ‘L’Adieu,’ right?”
“Not that one,” I say. “I’m not playing this to say goodbye to her.”
Tony frowns. “Okay, you’re right.” Katherine makes a small noise, and he rubs her back idly. “How about Opus 69 Number 2? That’s ‘Deux Valses.’ And really pretty. Not too difficult, either.”
Ivy shakes her head. “Waltz in A minor. Other than the one in C-sharp minor, it’s Yuna’s favorite.”
Now we’re getting somewhere! “Great! Let’s do that one. But, um… Is it Yuna’s favorite because it’s the most difficult one?” That wouldn’t surprise me. I remember her fingers blurring over the keys…
“Actually, it’s the easiest, technique-wise. But it requires some delicate handling. Otherwise you end up sounding like a stiff child learning a piece beyond his skill level. And you have to finish the entire piece in under two minutes and thirty seconds or so, because otherwise it’s going to be too slow.”
Two and a half minutes to make my case. I can do that. I clench my fists in a “let’s get going” gesture. “Got it. When can we start? Because now seems really good.”
Chapter Fifty-Six
Yuna
Mom heads back to Korea after a week. I stay behind to spend more time with Ivy and the twins, but I quit staying cooped up in the suite after the confrontation with Declan. He stopped trying to contact me, and I need to get on with my life.