Page 30 of Fallen Starboy

I’d like to see Andrew make something as amazing that.

Here I was, watching the unbendable, stubborn Rico practically beg to be given a second chance. The man who fired clients as quickly as he hired them, and who always managed to make the biggest deal out of the littlest thing, cowed by a woman. Two, to be precise, but nonetheless?—

I pretended to muse it over, knowing damn well even if Iwantedto ditch him (and in the future, I would), I couldn’t at this particular junction in the contract. Jun’s debut depended on a flawless execution.

Restarting was out of the question. It would be a delay we couldn’t afford.

“I suppose it would be easier on me to let you finish out the client, rather than have to deal with Tatiana from scratch. But we’ve already lost time, and that means?—”

“I’ll push other clients back and make room for him. I’ll stay late, if that works better for you. Whatever you need.” Rico was one and a half inches away from prostrating himself on the floor. Under normal circumstances, I might take a moment to gloat over that achievement. But right now, I was exhausted, frustrated, and not interested in the power play like I normally would be. There would be time for gloating later. Maybe after I’d left Jun behind in the hands of another and moved to my own office again. When I didn’t spend my nights returning to the insomnia that frequented me when I first moved back.

“Deadline is now a week earlier than originally specified,” I muttered pointedly, watching as his eyes first widened, then contracted to damn near slits. “If you think you’re capable of delivering on that, then just send my official email a request to rescind the termination, and I’ll note it on the record.”

“Of course,” he practically whined, whipping out his phone that very moment. “When would it be a good time to bring him back in?”

Now it was my turn to pull out a phone, checking my calendar first, then Jun’s. “I’ll have to check with my coordinator at the studio first, but I think we have a gap in the schedule tonight after his interview that we can pencil you in for.”

Rico was known for his extravagant night party life. Asking him to miss out and take on a client after five at night was unheard of. He’d never in a million years go for it.

But I shot my shot anyhow.

“How does seven thirty sound?”

His nostrils flared. “At night?”

I nodded. “Of course, if that doesn’t work for you?—”

“I”ll clear my schedule for the night. How soon can I know for sure if it’ll work for you or not?”

Now it was my turn to stand, a crooked smile spreading across my face as I walked to the door. “I’ll be in touch in a few hours.” After all, it wasn’t even noon yet. I had time. And a few other stops to make, too.

With that parting shot, rising a high I never thought I’d set foot on, I strode out of his office and into the midday sunshine, squinting against the brightness.

I still had a lot of work to do, but it was all downhill from here.

Crisis averted.

Chapter

Twelve

JUN

I didn’t seeArista at breakfast. According to Pujin, she’d already risen with the sun and gone off to who knew where. Work, I assumed, but since she hadn’t taken me with her, it wasn’t anything I needed to worry about. I settled down on the couch with a bowl of cereal after letting Yejin’s new tutor in: a younger man with amazing credentials named Graham something-or-other. He’d come highly recommended, and with Pujin’s new men on the security detail, I was confident she was safe here in the house, learning from a veritable genius.

An hour later, I was starting to get antsy, though. Here I was, nothing to do, up way too early for my liking, and Arista was nowhere in sight. She never missed an opportunity to nag me, pester me, or just in general piss me off with whatever she could. Ever since that interaction in the kitchen, though, we’d been like magnets with opposing poles—repulsed to either end of the house, as far away as we could possibly be, even though our rooms were feet apart.

I should be happy about it.

I wasn’t. In fact, I was the opposite.

I hated this feeling.

Working with the woman I hated was proving to be more confusing and complicated than I could have ever imagined. And the longer I avoided the issue, the worse the conflicting emotions in my head—and in my pants—got.

Around noon, Yejin emerged from her tutoring lesson with a smile on her face and a drawing in her hand. Graham followed behind her, giving me a curt nod before he launched into his overview on her progress.

“Her English skills are top-tier for her age. She must’ve been raised with it, I assume?” At my nod, he continued. “She’s progressed far past the expectations for her age group, and quite honestly, she’ll soon be beyond needing my services to fill the gaps.” He pulled a slip of paper out of his shoulder bag and handed it to me. “I compiled a list of top Montessori schools in the area, as well as a few more traditional ones, as well, for you to consider. I strongly recommend the first two, and I’ve got students I tutor from schools in this list who are worlds apart from their peers in terms of education.”

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