Page 9 of Show Off

Likethat’sgonna happen.

“Smells good in here.” Ji-Hoon rolls through, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. He slings a pair of plates on the counter, and I tip a pork chop onto each. Arranging the meat, I ladle each with a drizzle of sauce. Sauteed bok choy goes next to that, plus a scoop of smashed sweet potato with miso butter and some toasted sesame seeds. Ji-Hoon swoops in with a shower of fresh Thai basil and a pair of radish roses he carved when I wasn’t watching.

Perfection.

“Nicely done, chef.” My brother grabs napkins and silverware and wheels through the side door to the table we share at the start of each shift. “The only thing missing is?—”

“Don’t say it.”

He grins as we both take a spot at the corner table. As soon as we’re seated, he says it anyway. “Yang’s Spicy Sauce Blends,” he bellows in his best TV voice, sounding so much like Dad, I nearly drop my fork. “Come on, buddy. A little gochujang, maybe?”

“Fuck you.” I’m not really mad. Just annoyed by the sadness surging up in my chest. I chew on some pork chop and swallow, forcing the feelings down with it.

“You’re doing it again.” My brother’s eyes drop to my chest.

I look down and he’s right. I’m touching the spot where the tattoo brands me.

“I had an itch.” Dropping my hand, I focus on eating.

“Okay,” says Ji-Hoon with his smug, big brother smile. He saws off another bite of pork. “I’m just saying. The anniversary is kind of a big deal.”

“For a sauce blend?” All right, it’s not just any sauce blend.

Our father and his twin founded Yang’s Spicy Sauce Blend when they both were still in college. Yang’s became a best-selling brand across Asia, boasting strong sales in Europe and North America, too. Even when Dad died, Uncle Korain kept Yang’s Spicy Sauce Blend at the top of the market.

“We did our part,” I remind him. “And we’ve built our own corner in the culinary world. There’s no sense revisiting the past.”

“Who’s talking about revisiting the past?” He slices a careful bite of pork, pausing to dip it in sweet potato. “I’m talking about reconnecting with family.”

“We spoke to him just last month.” A five-minute call, I’ll admit. Just long enough to wish Uncle Korain happy birthday. Even that short chat left my gut hollowed out, as the sound of our late father’s voice filled the phone line.

I wish our uncle didn’t sound just like our dad. That they didn’t share a birthday, a history. Maybe then I’d feel differently about seeing him.

Ji-Hoon’s still watching me, so I stare right back. “You want a damn family reunion in Seoul or something?”

“Don’t be an idiot.” Of course he doesn’t want that. Neither of us would.

“So what, then?”

My brother lets out a long sigh. “I’d be open to having him visit us here.”

“Hell no.”

He flings out a hand, whacking a rosebud in its crystal vase. “Why are you like this?”

“Why aren’t you?” I get back to shoving food in my face and focus on something more positive. Something…lighter. Starlight or sunshine or bright blue eyes with cheeks stained faintly pink.

Goddammit.

I’m not thinking about Lana Judson.

Except maybe a little. Did she really think I’d bring a date to the gardens? That I’d bang some random chick between the rhubarb and the?—

“What’s wrong?”

I blink back to my brother. “Nothing.”

“Because you’re smiling.” Ji-Hoon studies my face. “You never smile.”

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