Holly watched Wolf and Lightning. Now this was a reunion between lost friends. Even to Holly's utterly untrained eye Lightning responded to Wolf in a way which she found fascinating. Then Wolf went over to young pure black stallion, a yearling, that stood to one side, pawing the ground.
"That's Lucky Strike," Travis called out. "He's out of Lightning and a filly from Utah, Smoke Dancer. Needs your magic, Wolf. A tree horse ever there was one."
"Okay, we'll start tomorrow," Wolf said. There was a confidence in his voice she had never heard.
"Holly, come here."
Holly gingerly walked over the dirt and took the carrot from Wolf's hand. Lightning snuffled and nudged against her.
"He likes you, Holly," Wolf laughed. "I think I have to give him to you."
"I don't think he'll fit in my apartment."
"I mean it, Holly," Wolf said. "I can't afford to pay you. I have nothing. But I can give you Lightning. Sell him to Kendall and recoup your fees or you can board him here. Travis has the papers, I'll sign him over. He's yours."
"I don't know what to say," Holly stammered.
"Lucky Strike needs me now. I don't need them fighting over me like jealous girls."
"But…" Holly stroked Lightning's nose and he snuffled. "Walk around the ring with him. No one is in a hurry anymore."
Holly did that. The late sun filtered through the trees and she felt the off-shore breeze coming up. Lightning was particularly interested in rubbing his nose against her shoulder.
He was such a boy.
Chapter 72
The invitations were printed on thick stock with a letter press, and the envelopes sealed with red wax. The quality of the invitation was such that it was kept as a cherished keepsake for years by the party goers.
Holly's cheeks paled when she saw the invitation.
The usually elusive, reclusive and quiet Dumok surprised the Koreans with his next move. He wanted to celebrate his happiness over finding Naomi. On the bottom it stated in very small script: Black tie.
The people all received the invitations on the same day. First there was puzzlement, then sheer delight at the extra enclosure - an American Express gift card - intended for new clothes for the gala. Nobody in Koreatown was left out.
There was gaiety, joy and excitement - feelings foreign to the hard-working first generation immigrants. They were the generation of suffering and hardship, who knew nothing of life and leisure.
But for one magical night, the Dumok changed all that. The Dumok would have it his way and make a gesture to the community they would never forget. Both men and women, single and married, the people always working would walk out of their shops, offices, and businesses for one night to, well - simply, enjoy.
It was a fabulous party. Everyone was beautiful that night. But the beauty everyone remembered and talked of for years after was Holly.
Holly, who a week before had slumped in her closet, thoroughly discouraged, almost crying, wanting to wear something other than a suit so that Dumok would see her as someone other than his lawyer. It was that simple. But Holly had no experience with night clubs or parties or dressing up. She was a pastor's daughter who had not been allowed out at night. When the time came to have fun, she didn't know how.
Kendall Taylor came through at the end, perhaps seeing a little of herself in Holly.
Kendall took Holly under her wing and for next three days they trolled the spas of Koreatown where, under Kendall's watchful eye, Holly was washed, poked, cleaned and scrubbed until her skin turned two shades even whiter. Top hair designers cut, conditioned and colored Holly's hair until it fell softly like a cloud around her face. The biggest surprise was the dress. Not to be outdone by the Dumok, Kendall marched Holly over to Chanel in Beverly Hills.
"The first thing is this. The last thing you want is to see someone else walk into the party wearing your dress," Kendall explained in her sand-papery yet feminine growl. Kendall was wrapped in Missoni, that day, and Holly always envied how she looked so effortless.
Several hours later, they settled on a black silk vintage Chanel cocktail dress with a demure scoop neck, it draped like a waterfall over Holly's body (she starved herself for days before the party) the vertical pleats began below the bust line, and a pleated wrap around her hips provided visual contrast. Most dramatic was the back, which was entirely sheer save the long vertical zipper. Even the buttons on the wrap were finished in silk.
"The design works because it promises sin but delivers grace," Kendall demurred with a smile.
Holly, who was only comfortable in business suits and workout clothes protested at first then gave in with a laugh. The last stop was a lingerie store where Holly picked a pair of lace stockings hand-embroidered with small white pearls, but when she walked up to the counter to pay, Kendall raised an eyebrow. Nope. They were not done yet.
Kendall spread out a selection of black lingerie, and the sales girl was smart enough to get out of the way, recognizing that a master was in the house.
"But, but..." Holly bubbled,"...no one will see it!"
"Then we're not doing our job," Kendall sniffed.
Four hours later, they were back at Kendall's house. Holly put everything on and slipped her feet into new black strappy heels, the ones that flashed red from the soles when she walked. Kendall lent her a small black clutch purse and her own Tahitian black pearl necklace.
"There," Kendall was pleased, having wanted to make Holly over from the first moment they'd met. "Now you are appropriately dressed."
Holly looked in the large full length mirror and a woman she didn't know peeked back.
"And you need to smile," Kendall demurred. "A woman's most important accessory is her smile."
Holly tried to smile into the mirror, but it just wasn't happening. She turned to Kendall. "You made me so b...beautiful!" Holly said, a tear forming.
"Don't cry! You'll ruin the dress!" Kendall hurriedly reached for a tissue.
Chapter 73
"Kendall, my turn!" Holly announced. "We're going for a drive. Holly was all smiles as she sped along the Pacific Coast Highway and into the canyons as the afternoon faded.
Holly smiled at Kendall who sat, relaxed, wearing large sunglasses and a scarf wrapped around her hair to block the sun. She reminded Holly of Grace Kelly with that look, and Kendall smiled at the compliment. "I don't know where you're taking me, Holly," Kendall said, "but I don't want to see Wolf, if that is what you are planning. Truly, I've moved on."
"No, it’s not to see Wolf, I promise." Holly looked over at Kendall. “But he did say he wants to see you and apologize in person. He also asked that I tell you it wasn't Asian fever that he got caught up with Nara who claimed to be Alexis Lee," Holly said softly. "Wolf missed his daughter who died, and when he met Naomi he got caught up playing house. That was all.”
“Did he really mean that?” Kendall said, softening.
“Yes.”
They were deep in the canyons. "We're here," Holly announced. She had called ahead to meet with Travis who was working with Lightning. Travis Earle walked over.
"Wolf signed over Lightning to you Miss Holly before he left, and if you sign where I've put the 'x' and put in Ms. Taylor's name, you'll have conveyed him to her. I’ll go get the papers,” he added and strolled off.
"Holly!" Kendall put her hand over her heart. “You got my horse back!”
"Kendall, it was sort of Wolf's idea,” Holly said, smiling brightly. “Why don’t you go for a ride! I’ll watch,” she beamed.
Kendall's face softened. "Do you think he's sorry?"
"Yes," Holly said softly. “Really.”
Chapter 74
The Masonic Temple on Wilshire Blvd was a brilliant piece of creamy Art Deco architecture almost exactly on the border between Koreatown and Hancock Park. It had been for sale for some time and then sold for eight million dollars. It was scheduled to become a private art museum. The dining room seated fifteen hundred and it was here the Dumok held his party.
Already the ballroom was filling up as Holly tiptoed into the main hall.
"Is that you, Holly?" Naomi breathed, taking both Holly's hands between her own. "You are exquisite!"
Both Holly and Naomi were lovely. Holly was classic, Naomi was modern wearing a backless silver Herve Leger dress was hand-sewn with hundreds of silver and blue sequins that glittered when she moved, and she had somehow painted tiny flakes of silver glitter on her bare skin. She looked utterly magical. When Holly gushed, Naomi said, "Oh, this dress weighs about ten pounds, you can't imagine. I can hardly move!"
Guests were pouring in. Johnny Gee and Eli Burg, arrived at the same time, strolling in like kings, handsome in their tuxedos, identical save Eli’s the cowboy boots.
Eli whistled a slow and appreciative one at Holly. Holly blushed but Eli was already scanning the ballroom for girls. Holly laughed, “Be easy on the hearts," she said.
"Detective Chang is outside. Taking pictures with a long lens," Eli yelled out, as he disappeared into the crowd. Holly smiled and shook her head. She would forget about Mick Chang for a night.
Holly looked into the crowd, and then turned as someone touched her arm. It was her sister, Christine. Finally, a face without secrets.
"I didn't even recognize you."
"I didn't recognize you!" Holly gushed. Her sister wore a pink and black beaded mini-dress dress with a simple Art Deco pattern from the 1920's with fringes. She had added elbow length gloves, one pink, and one black. For jewelry, she had ropes of alternating black and white pearls and matching earrings. She was radiant.
"You were always the prettier sister,” Holly laughed, “but I don't mind because I can enjoy you, too," Holly's eyes were warm.
"Isn't that Mi Rae?" Christine asked, pointing. Yes, it was, radiating fun, in her shortest skirt yet, dancing with both Eli and Johnny Gee, laughing.
Mix stood apart, watching the festivities. On his face, he had an expression of careful ambiguity, smiling faintly, but he, too, was enjoying himself. Mix slipped outside unnoticed and walked outside and leaned against an open car window. "You can get better pictures inside. It's a great party, lots of food." Mick Chang took a sip of convenience store coffee from the styro-foam cup. Cold. He grimaced, shifting his weight uncomfortably on the vinyl seat of his car.
"Naw. I'm good where I am." Mix tossed him a beer and pointed. "If you need to take a leak, bathrooms are through those doors." The detective nodded and smiling faintly, then in a moment, turned, lost again in his own thoughts, his mission. When he looked up, Mix was gone.
The lines were long for the linen cloaked buffet tables which groaned with favorites, plus a seafood station with crab and lobster, a Prime Rib carving station and a sushi bar. Flowers, crystal and fine china decoratively sparkled on the tables beyond imaginable opulence.
Holly wandered through the crowd for the next hour. It wasn't that the Dumok was exactly ignoring her, but it didn't go exactly as Holly had thought. He was polite, warmly appreciative of her presence at the party, but with years of discretion masking his true feelings, he made no move to make her feel special that night.
The Dumok, clearly the most magnetic person in the room, lacked for no company as guests lined up to speak to him. As the party progressed, he excused himself from the crowd, and Holly watched him go over to speak with her father whom he had personally invited to give the blessing for the event. And wherever the Dumok went, Naomi was his beautiful little shadow. Holly's eyes followed him everywhere, waiting for the right moment, but she couldn’t get her mother’s disapproving words out of her head.
"Nobody said life was fair. He is - or perhaps was - a gangster. And you are a pastor's daughter. You cannot change that."
Holly could hear the music, the voices but it seemed so far off in the distance now. She nodded, but her eyes were on the Dumok. The crowd was larger now, standing in the buffet line. Holly saw the Dumok extricate himself and go upstairs.
It was on the balcony that circled the ballroom where Holly found him. A tiny island of peace from the chaos below. She watched him although he did not know she was there. He waved back to someone below and she saw the corners of his tired eyes crinkle and his jaw relax into a tender smile. Holly didn't need to look down at the crowd. Only Naomi could make him smile like that. It was then Holly knew with certainty she must never tell the Dumok the truth. Whatever the price. And she could only do that by giving him up in her heart, because to be near him, it would be impossible to have the lie in her heart. Quietly, she slipped away.
The Dumok would only dance one dance that night. Everybody watched as he took Holly by the elbow and lightly led her out on the dance floor. The Dumok did not speak but smiled his melancholy smile and brushed her hair from her face with his fingers and spoke to her with his eyes. Holly, self conscious of the eyes on her, held him lightly as she danced. Holly looked up at the Dumok. She had practiced a million speeches in her head, to declare her love, but he had already said goodbye. This was their end.
"Sorry, Boss," An assistant leaned in, "It's time."
The Dumok closed his eyes and held Holly close, for just a moment. Then he was gone. She looked at the time. Midnight had come so quickly.
The Dumok ascended to the stage with Naomi at his side. Then Christine was at Holly’s elbow about to whisper something in her ear when the Dumok spoke and the room became silent. The lights dimmed and a single spotlight shone on him. "I invited you tonight because it is our farewell party. I will be leaving tomorrow and will take Naomi with me." He said "Naomi" so tenderly. Someone coughed in the audience. From the back of the hall, another guest else cleared their throat, as the guests listened to the goodbye speech.
Outside, a tuxedo'd waiter stood there patiently with a hotel room service cart and a folding chair set up on the narrow strip of lawn. "Your dinner is served, sir. Prime rib - medium rare - baked potato with sour cream and chives, and sauteed carrots. Dinner roll. The wine is a Cabernet Sauvignon from the Napa Valley. Enjoy."
Mick tried the wine. It was excellent, but the best was the baked potato. He put more butter on it. He sighed and took another bite. The beef and potato together were awesome. Later, when Mix came outside, Mick put down his knife and fork, clipped on his radio and got out of his car. The friends stood with their arms across their chests leaning against the car. In their silence they were aligned.
The dining hall was empty. Holly looked up at the clock. It was half past midnight. Only the Dumok and Holly were left. The party feels like such a long time ago already, Holly thought to herself looking around the empty hall. Tears welled up and she quickly wiped away her tears as the Dumok walked up and took a seat beside her.
"Did you have a nice time?"
"Yes," Holly nodded, her eyes welling.
"I've come to say goodbye," he began.
"I know," Holly lowered her head as tears streamed down her face, choking on the words.
"Naomi has been through a tremendous ordeal and she needs all my attention now," the Dumok said, gently. Holly nodded, unable to meet the Dumok's eyes.
"I understand," Holly murmured. "Let's not say goodbye. I hate good-byes. I'm not good at them."
"I'll be back. Soon."
"No... you won't." Holly could not bear the falsity of those words between them.
"Holly, look at me," the Dumok said. "Look at me," he said again even more gently. Holly looked up, slowly, and their eyes met.
"Sit with me," he said, taking her hand. "I know the truth and you are such a dear for caring so much about me to withhold the truth for my feelings sake," the Dumok said.
"What -- about what?" Holly asked, stammering.
"About Naomi," he said. "I see a father as someone who cares and nurtures a child - every day. It is not just the passing of DNA. Sometimes, a father may not pass on his DNA but that makes him no less a father."
Holly froze, the blood draining from her face.
"How - how did you find out?" Holly stammered.
"Your father told me," the Dumok said.
"My father?" Holly asked, disbelieving. "What did he tell you?" Her thoughts racing back to the image of the Dumok and her father, speaking quietly at the party. "And when?" she exclaimed.
"After you came back from Chicago. Holly, I went to your church looking for you - because I was worried about you."
A black Mercedes had pulled into the church parking lot. A tall, solitary figure in a business suit opened the driver's door and entered the church. The Dumok looked up at the ceiling. Would lightning strike? It was the first time in three decades he had been inside a church.
The Dumok stopped and listened at the sanctuary door. A child's voice, so plaintive and pure, singing a song from the Dumok’s childhood. A song his mother sang to him to sleep each night. Curious, the Dumok opened the door. He stopped, surprised. Inside, was a beautiful boy, an adolescent child, of mixed ancestry like the Dumok, except his exotic eyes were a clear blue, singing a song. When the child saw the Dumok he stopped singing.
"Hello. My name is Cole. Are you lost?" the child asked.
"No. Is the pastor here?"
"Yes, sir. He is my grandfather. Come this way," the child said waving for the Dumok to follow.
"But how did my father know?" Holly cried.
"You are his daughter, Holly. He saw it in your face when you came back from Chicago. Your father knew something was wrong and guessed you must have seen Sara there. Remember, your father knew Nara and the girls when they first came to this country. Your father always knew Naomi could not be my biological daughter. Your father told me what he suspected and I flew to Chicago to see for myself. I saw Sara. And met Choi there, too."
"Choi?" Holly asked, surprised, almost choking on the name.”
"Ah, yes, Choi," the Dumok said, thoughtfully. "My old friend and rival." He chuckled. "We did it like in the old days. A grudge match in the back alley to settle the score,” the Dumok laughed and Holly could not tell if he was serious or not. “After, we had a drink together.”
The Virgin Whore Trial: A Holly Park Legal Thriller Page 26