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Sweet, Sweet Revenge

Page 5

by Nia Arthurs


  “What?”

  “No matter how much I think about it, it doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What language are you speaking because it doesn’t sound like English or Korean?”

  Joon Gi chuckled and leaned his head back. “I broke my own rule today.” He ran a hand through his hair and admitted, “I got involved.”

  “With Hanna?”

  “With my boss.”

  “It’s a she?”

  Joon Gi nodded.

  “She pretty? Prettier than Hanna?”

  He shrugged. “I wasn’t looking at her like that. She’s just… different.” He pictured Sky’s warm brown skin, cocoa eyes and neat dreads. “She’s confusing.”

  “You like her?”

  “What?” Joon Gi almost bolted out of the sofa. “No, it’s not like that.”

  “If she’s as pretty as Hanna, I can forgive you for getting distracted.”

  “You’re an idiot.” Joon Gi chuckled.

  Tyler cleared his throat. “Don’t get offended, bro, but what kind of business would take you in after… everything?”

  “It’s a bakery.”

  Tyler’s jaw dropped.

  “Owned by a Belizean,” Joon Gi added.

  Tyler licked his lips. “A Chinese Belizean?”

  “Nope.”

  “Taiwanese?”

  “Nope.”

  “Filipino?”

  “Nope. She’s black.”

  “Black. Fully black?” Tyler raised his arm. “No Asian?”

  “No.”

  “Is it that bad? You couldn’t find anyone you knew who could use your skill?”

  “I tried, but the rumors have done their damage. You know how unforgiving our community is. It’ll be the same if I go to the other Asian companies in the districts. My name is ruined. No successful business will want to work with me.”

  Tyler huffed. “This city is ruthless, man. I wish I could help you more, but—”

  “It’s fine. Letting me use your guestroom is a huge assist already. I’ll figure the rest out. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Cool.” Tyler bobbed his head. “You want some Ramen?”

  As his friend strode into the law firm’s kitchen to set the pot on the stove, Joon Gi flung himself back into the chair and stared at the ceiling. Talking to Tyler had reminded him of how lucky he was to have scored that job at Sweet Treats.

  He just hoped that Sky would forget about what happened today and take him back tomorrow.

  7

  THE FIVE-MINUTE STROLL to Sweet Treats early in the morning was her favorite part of the day. Apart from going home, of course.

  At four forty a.m., the sky was still dark and whatever sunlight managed to creep over the horizon was faint at best. Trees stood like rigid soldiers in the morning, more still and stalwart than the dead.

  Silence echoed along the empty street.

  Even the dogs were still asleep.

  Sky hiked her purse higher on her shoulder and pulled her phone out of her pocket. A swipe of her thumb over the blank screen brought the device to life. She stared at the message icon, hoping to see a little red tag that meant she had a new message.

  There were none.

  Vince still hadn’t returned her calls. If she couldn’t reach him by phone, she’d have to seek him out in person. And that was a scenario Sky did not even want to imagine.

  She ran her fingernail along the purse strap, focusing on the rough texture rather than on what Vince would do now that he was pissed off.

  Last night, she’d blamed it all on Joon Gi’s interference, but the morning had brought a new and clearer perspective. How could she blame this mess on a man who’d only been trying to help?

  Joon Gi hadn’t fawned over Vince when they bumped into each other six months ago.

  Joon Gi hadn’t caught Vince with his pants down in the broom closet at his work’s formal Christmas party that she’d spent two thousand dollars getting ready for.

  That was all Sky Olivia Johnson.

  What on earth had she seen in that man? Apart from his broad shoulders and muscular thighs that couldn’t hide beneath the thick fabric of his khaki pants.

  And the dark brown eyes swimming in chocolate seduction.

  And those thick pink lips that told a woman exactly what she wanted to hear…

  Okay, so Sky knew exactly what she’d seen in Vince. His handsome face had her overlooking his very real, very horrible character flaws.

  Now, her ex had a noose around her neck and the rope was tightening by the second.

  Damn Vince and his hard, square jaw.

  She hoped he got fat.

  Sighing deeply, Sky hurried toward her bakery and stopped short when she saw a lone man leaning against the front door. Her heart sped up with fear until she recognized the stranger’s face. Then it started racing again for a different and far more troubling reason.

  “Joon Gi?”

  His head whipped up and shrewd brown eyes bore into her.

  Joon Gi was the total opposite of Vince. And she wasn’t just talking about skin color and ethnicity.

  Vince was a man of very little intelligence who considered himself a genius. He spoke highly of his own accomplishments and thought that women should drop to the ground and worship every step he made.

  Joon Gi was confidence personified. His self-assurance was not a façade used to hide his insecurities. It was ingrained in him. He knew who he was, had made peace with his strengths and his weaknesses. It was a level of poise she wanted for herself, but could never seem to achieve.

  Astute dark eyes met hers and lingered, invoking a feeling in Sky that she couldn’t quite name. She shushed her heart and pushed the sensation away to analyze later.

  Right now, she was wearing her boss hat and Joon Gi was an employee, not a prospective rebound.

  Joon Gi approached. His long legs carried him away from the front stoop, down to the sidewalk. He stopped a couple feet from where she stood. The sunlight peeked over the horizon, highlighting Joon Gi’s thick black hair and the slope of his nose down to his lips perched in a flat line.

  Sky wondered what he was thinking. About her. About the way she’d run after Vince yesterday.

  He must think I’m pathetic.

  She would tell him the truth. If she knew him better. And if the truth didn’t make her look like an even bigger idiot.

  “Good morning,” he said. The rumble of his voice caught her by surprise. Again. She’d forgotten how deep his voice was. Like a rolling drum in a deep cavern.

  Sky stared blankly at him, feeling him out, waiting to see how he would interact with her after yesterday. “Hi.”

  “You live nearby?” His gaze slid away from her to somewhere over her shoulder. “I didn’t see a car.”

  “Yeah.” She strode toward the front door. The keys rattled as she plucked them from her purse and opened the shutter.

  The door lifted on it’s own, the metal groaning loudly in the sunlight. Sky looked over her shoulder and found Joon Gi, arms upstretched, holding the end of the shutter and thrusting it high above her. He was close enough that his body was almost sheltering her.

  Her brain told her to move away.

  Her legs did not.

  When Joon Gi looked over, she saw a smirk playing on his lips. “You lift that heavy thing by yourself every morning?”

  She swallowed and gathered her composure before answering, “What are you doing here?”

  “I wasn’t sure when I was supposed to report to work, but I had a feeling you’d be in early.” He gestured to the door. “Open up.”

  She resented the instruction, but instead of arguing, Sky slipped the key into the lock and heard the satisfying click that the latch made as it released.

  Joon Gi smiled.

  Her lips quirked back without her consent.

  He held the door open for her and she stepped through. Her tennis shoes barely made a sound as she strode across the room and started flipping on the l
ights.

  Joon Gi’s accompanying footsteps made it hard to concentrate.

  Opening up in the morning was her time—to think, to feel, to meditate. Joon Gi’s presence felt like an invasion and, given the way her body was misbehaving around him, she wasn’t sure it was a welcome one.

  With his help, she turned all the appliances on and had the air conditioning seeping through the valves in the wall.

  Sky strode into the kitchen, Joon Gi on her heels. Pretending he wasn’t there, she pulled on an apron and tied it behind her back. The fried jack dough was in the fridge. All she needed to do was roll them out and make the scrambled eggs.

  Her mind slipped into gear like a well-oiled machine and she flew around, gathering the ingredients. For a few minutes, she forgot that Joon Gi was even in the room.

  Until she bumped against a solid wall that smelled distinctly like Old Spice.

  Her fingers grazed Joon Gi’s chest as she struggled to regain her balance and remain on her feet. His arms darted out to cup her elbows. In a gentle touch, he righted her and peered into her face. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She hauled back and let her hands dangle awkwardly from her sides. His touch made her already frantic thoughts skitter like an ants’ nest trampled beneath hard boots.

  Dipping his chin, he looked down to meet her gaze when she tried to avoid him. “Do you need any help?”

  The word that wanted to escape was ‘no’. She didn’t need his help. She didn’t need his pierce-my-soul gazes. His Superman-with-the-shutter move. None of it.

  A moment to regroup and reconsider had her bobbing her head. “Do you know how to cut vegetables?”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  She eyed him for the snark. “I need onions, sweet peppers and tomatoes.”

  “Got it.”

  He whirled around, disappearing as quickly as he’d appeared in her path. A few minutes later, Sky heard the staccato rhythm of a knife against a chopping board and glanced across the room.

  Joon Gi stood with his back to her, shoulders straining against his T-shirt as he hunched over a counter that hadn’t been built with his height in mind.

  Get a move on, Sky, or you won’t have anything to serve your customers.

  She forced her gaze away from the strange man in her kitchen and rolled out the dough for the fried jacks. With the heel of her hand, she pounded the dough into quarter moon shapes and slipped them into the oil bubbling in the fryer.

  After Joon Gi had finished with the vegetables, she tasked him to fry the pastries and focused on making the massive amount of scrambled eggs.

  Joon Gi didn’t speak much, something she appreciated. Her day would get hectic and loud soon enough so she savored every drop of the silence.

  Together, they found a satisfying groove of dunking fried jacks in oil, pulling them out crisp-brown and filling them with the eggs.

  Jo arrived a few minutes before six.

  The insistent thuds on the door broke Sky’s concentration. She glanced up, her gaze meeting Joon Gi’s. An unspoken message passed between the two of them before Sky opened her mouth to say, “I think that’s Jo.”

  “Oh.” He ducked his head, unconcerned, and returned to his work.

  Sky walked to the side door and let her friend in.

  Curly black hair pulled away from her face in a bun and a bandana, Jo looked stunning and fresh. She closed her eyes and dragged in a deep breath. “That smells divine.”

  “Thanks.” Sky wiped her hands on her apron.

  Jo skipped inside, her energy shifting the air from one of focused sobriety to lighthearted anticipation. Sky found her own mood lifting, a natural response to Jo’s presence.

  They’d met two years ago in a culinary class Sky had taught for extra money. They hit it off after Jo burned everything in the kitchen and had been friends ever since.

  “Wow.” Jo’s eyes pandered around the room, landing on the massive fried jacks resting on cooling racks like whales washed ashore. “You did all this by yourself?”

  “Not exactly…”

  Footsteps resounded and Joon Gi entered the room.

  Jo snapped her mouth closed and frowned, dragging her gaze back to Sky in a silent accusation. Sky felt a moment of panic as if she’d done something unsavory and it was about to be exposed.

  Jo doesn’t know that I’m slightly attracted to him. Relax.

  Clearing her throat and shaking off the panic, she gestured to Joon Gi. “He was a huge help.”

  “I’m watching you,” Jo said, forking two crooked fingers at her eyes.

  Joon Gi just chuckled smoothly. Turning to Sky, he asked. “What’s next?”

  “I can handle it from here.”

  Joon Gi grabbed his phone. Whatever was on the screen made him scowl darkly.

  Sky took note of his expression and shuffled through her schedule for the day, assuming he was unhappy with the thought of remaining idle. “Actually, I could use your help—”

  “If you don’t mind,” Joon Gi glanced up, his dark eyes shimmering with intensity, “I have somewhere to be. I’ll be back later.”

  “Uh…” Before she could utter another word, Joon Gi strode away.

  The moment the door slapped behind him, Jo spun. “Why’d you let him walk?”

  “He was here before I was,” she said, rationalizing her own annoyance as well. “That meant he probably woke at three in the morning just to get ready.” She headed to the johnny cakes and sliced them open, setting cheese and ham inside. “Don’t you think he deserves a break?”

  Jo pouted. “I still don’t like him.”

  “I can tell.”

  Jo bounded over and leaned in close. “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing.” Sky folded another piece of meat into the johnny cake slice. Jo doesn’t know about my infatuation with Joon Gi. Just act natural.

  “Lies!” Jo grabbed Sky’s hand and shook it until the slice of cheese she’d been stacking fell back to the plastic paper. “Talk to me. Did Joon Gi try something?”

  “No, that’s not—of course not. Why would I worry about him?”

  “Then did Phillip come back or something?”

  “No.” Sky sucked in a deep breath as a reminder of yesterday’s chaos flew through her mind. The moment she’d seen Joon Gi outside her store today, she’d gotten distracted. But the threat her ex posed was real and present.

  “What?” Jo prodded.

  “It was… Vince.”

  Color bloomed in Jo’s light brown cheeks. “Did he threaten you again?”

  “Sort of. He wanted free food in exchange for his silence.”

  “You should report him. That’s extortion.”

  Sky resisted her. “It’s embarrassing enough. I don’t want to get the police involved.”

  Jo chewed on her bottom lip. “Still, you can’t just do nothing.”

  “Unless I want that private video plastered all over the dark web, I have to do what he says.” Sky sighed. “The problem is Joon Gi got involved and now Vince is ticked.”

  “Have you called him?”

  “I tried.” Sky squeezed her eyes shut as her chest clenched painfully. “But I think it might already be too late.”

  8

  JOON GI DASHED through the streets and hailed a taxi, his hand flying out desperately as the highway thickened with vehicles. Families were heading to work and school. Belize was just beginning to greet the new day, hitting the ground running like a prime athlete about to sweep the Olympic gold.

  A taxi sped by.

  He shot out an arm and waved. “Come on, come on.”

  Another flail.

  The taxi roared past.

  “Dammit!” Joon Gi raised his left hand—the one curled around his cell phone—and glared at the message that was emblazoned on the screen.

  SUN GI: How was the food in prison?

  That text had sent him skittering out of the kitchen like demons were on his tail. Anger simmered in his blood and heat wave
s vibrated the air around him. He could feel his face reddening.

  A child dressed in a school uniform scurried by and shot him an inquiring look. He imagined she was thinking: “why is that Asian guy so red?”

  Because my brother’s a little piece of crap, he’d respond. And it’s almost a hundred degrees out here.”

  But that imaginary conversation would never happen because the kid was too smart to stop and talk to the human lobster pacing the streets in a T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers.

  This is on you, Sun Gi. I lost everything because of you.

  Dad’s favorite phrase wafted into his mind, countering the voices that cried out for blood. Calmly, quietly, in that tone that could brook fear without raising an octave, he heard it. Forgive and forget. That is the only way to have peace.

  Sorry, Dad. I can’t listen to your advice right now.

  Joon Gi would forgive his brother eventually.

  Probably.

  When they were both old men with broken bodies, paunches and nothing to their name but regrets, he’d take Sun Gi aside and extend a hand in friendship.

  But that day was not today.

  His rational side, in a voice that sounded eerily similar to Dad’s, whispered. Maybe this is what Sun Gi wanted. Why else would he send you that text?

  Joon Gi’s resolve wavered, but before he could turn around and return to the general safety of Sweet Treats, a taxi skirted to a stop in front of him.

  Through the passenger side window, the driver gestured. “You need a taxi?”

  Joon Gi threw caution to the wind and got into the car.

  The ride took longer than usual. The streets were clogged with traffic and they had to slow down to a creep around a school building so the children could get over the cross walk.

  Joon Gi dug his fingernails into the headrest in impatience. He was so close now; he could see the high rise of Kim Electronics in the distance. The structure towered three stories over the other buildings on the street.

  It was his brother’s idea to build the extra stories. His father hadn’t liked to flaunt his wealth and Sun Gi knew that. But his brother was the rebellious type. Sun Gi’s thirst for power and prestige was both his strength and his weakness.

 

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