I don’t cling, and I won’t beg for affection from anyone. Either somebody loves me or they don’t. And I’m certainly not going to cry over a man who won’t bother to show up for my birthday party.
We finish the rest of the breakfast, gossiping about the latest fashion. I’m grateful for the change of subject.
Since I now have a lunch appointment, I take a long shower and put on a brand-new baby-pink Naeem Khan dress and the cutest pearlescent nude heels. For accessories, I pick out pearls and diamonds. They’re classic.
When it’s time to go to the restaurant where I’m meeting Ryu Taejo, I put on a pair of oversized sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat that goes perfectly with my outfit. Ms. Kim carries my purse for me. Mr. Choi and three additional bodyguards follow.
Nerves jitter in my belly, and I take a deep breath in the elevator, trying hard to calm myself. It’s the first time since the party that I’m leaving the suite, and I’m probably going to run into Declan, who I know is loitering in the lobby. Why is he bothering? He should have more important meetings with his agent and Hollywood people. After all, his career is what matters the most, isn’t it?
If this is out of some misguided sense of guilt…
Maybe I should text him back and state that an apology isn’t needed over spilled milk. But there’s no sin like poor social timing.
Or I could just sneak out by myself. Use a different exit. But that’s ridiculous. I haven’t done anything wrong. Why should I inconvenience myself that way?
Maybe because you don’t know how you’re going to react if you run into Declan? my inner voice says.
Mr. Choi and his team will handle Declan if he tries to get too close. I don’t know if I can maintain control otherwise.
The elevator dings, and the doors open. My entourage and I spill out into the lobby. My chin held high, I start walking toward the car waiting outside. I keep my step deliberate and measured to hide the emotions churning in my gut. Ms. Kim walks a bit behind me, while the bodyguards move along in a half-circle, watching my sides and back.
The sound of shoes hitting the marble floor rings from my left. My stomach churns a little, and resentment and something that feels like furious love tears at me. I blink fast to get rid of the tears in my eyes.
Don’t turn your head. Don’t turn your head.
“Yuna!” It’s Declan’s voice. There’s a brief scuffle with one of the bodyguards and then his hand wraps around mine.
And I’m faced with the man I thought I was in love with.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Declan
Three days in the Aylster lobby finally pays off when Yuna comes out of one of the gleaming elevators. She’s surrounded by her people, who are in black suits. And I can’t see her eyes through the dark sunglasses covering half her beautiful face. But I can never mistake the hot awareness prickling through me, just for being in the same space as her.
I run toward her, not wanting to waste this opportunity to talk to her.
“Yuna!” One of the suits tries to get in my way, but I forcibly push him to the side and take her hand.
Mr. Choi immediately steps forward and puts a hand on my chest, murder in his eyes. The others move to create a wall between me and Yuna, who yanks her hand out of mine. Ms. Kim reaches into a bag and gives Yuna a disinfecting wipe, and she runs it over the hand I held just seconds ago. Ms. Kim takes the used wipe.
It’s the same thing she did to that ex of hers who left her for money. Having it done to me feels…eviscerating. “Yuna, I’m sorry I missed the party. I didn’t mean to.”
“This isn’t about the party.” Her cold words chip away what little hope I’ve been hanging on to.
“And the car. I didn’t know you couldn’t drive. If you want, I can teach you.”
Her lips twist into an ugly line. The sight is a slap to my face. I’ve never seen her make such an awful expression before.
“It isn’t about the car, either,” she says. “I have to go. I’m going to be late for my date.”
“Date?” I croak.
“My mother arranged for a meeting with a dossier candidate.” Her tone is hard. “You see, she didn’t think you’d care enough to show, and I told her she was wrong. We actually made a bet because I was so sure you’d come. But I was wrong. Obviously, totally, completely mistaken. So now I figure I should do as she says. She clearly knows more about men than I do, and on top of that, it’ll make her happy.”
Fuck. “Please don’t do this. You’re going to regret it. That dossier guy doesn’t love you.” Words pour out in a desperate torrent.
She shrugs.