Page 2 of Idol Lives
“Nah.” Jason bitterly chuckled. “You know, just getting away from the festivities so I can fix my face.”
Naomi’s plum-glossed lips twitched, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Yeah. Looks like it.” She sighed as she came in, the plush, ornately patterned rug swallowing the sound of her footsteps as she crossed it. “I know this isn’t a great time, but Bernie just handed me a stack of paperwork for you to sign.” She pulled a thick folder from underneath her arm and placed it on the desk.
Jason’s eyebrows angrily bunched together as he frowned. “My lawyer’s here?”
Naomi scoffed. “You shook his hand less than an hour ago, Jason.” Her steel tone betrayed her irritation. And she was never one to mince words. “I know you’re in mourning and all, but that doesn’t mean you can be an asshole.”
Jason choked back a frustrated groan. “Seriously? Says the woman making me fucking sign something in the middle of my father’s funeral reception. Can’t you see we’re–”
“It’s fine,” Tae Hyun interrupted, gently squeezing Jason’s shoulder. “I need to find a restroom anyway.” He kissed Jason, passing some warmth between them, a faint hint of champagne lingering on his lips. “I’ll let you two deal with business.”
Jason slowly exhaled as he fought the urge to throw a tantrum. “Alright. The closest bathroom is just up the hall.”
“I’m sure Seong Min already knows where they all are,” Tae Hyun replied with a mischievous grin. “But, maybe you could take me on a tour when you’re done with this. I’ve hardly seen any of this place since we got here.”
Jason mirrored Tae Hyun’s smile, soaking in his loving gaze as armor against the oppressive weight of unexpected responsibility. “Okay, deal.” He watched Tae Hyun walk away, silently wishing he could walk out that door with him. The moment he was gone, Jason’s smile vanished. Turning on a waiting Naomi, all that remained was weary defiance. “Your timing fucking sucks.”
Naomi snorted, unfazed at Jason’s antics. “Stop being such a brat. I said I know this isn’t a great time. But that doesn’t change the fact that you need to sign this stuff.”
A familiar rebelliousness surged as Jason’s back hit theproverbial wall. “And what if I don’t sign it? What happens then?”
“Probably nothing today.” Naomi flipped the folder open, her fingers drumming a business-like rhythm on the stack of papers. “But, eventually, checks won’t get cut, bills won’t get paid, and a lot of people who work for you will lose their jobs.” She reached for the gold pen–
“Don’t. That’s–” His father’s pen. His stomach gurgled from a sudden surge of nausea. No, not anymore. “–a fountain pen. I don’t know how to use it. Do you have a real one?”
“Are you serious?” Naomi’s tone barely hid her exasperation. “Look around you, Jason.” She gestured toward the opulently pristine desk. “Does this place look like it’s brimming with pens?”
“Fine.” Jason groaned as he rolled the leather chair from under the desk and sat. He’d never seen that side of the desk. He’d imagined it held everything from a secret safe full of gold bars to a microwave and minifridge. But no, just drawers. He slid the top right drawer open to reveal an obsessively arranged set of office supplies, including a half-dozen needlessly expensive pens. He grabbed the closest one and slipped off the cap. “What am I signing?”
“Financial agreements. Contract amendments. Transfers of ownership–”
“So, that’s it, right? This is what makes it all mine?”
Naomi’s wistful, motherly smile reappeared as she sat in the chair opposite Jason. “No, honey. It’s already all yours. But this keeps your company running.”
The Brightstar Group. His company. Jason dramatically frowned as the unwanted burden weighed on his shoulders. He’d never asked for any of his inheritance. In fact, he’dspecifically told his father he’d give it all up. But Gerald Park had never taken no for an answer. Even from the grave, his reach was long and his grip firm. He loudly huffed. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
Naomi nodded, pointing a plum-painted nail at the first signature line. “Start here.” Her leather chair squeaked as she leaned back while Jason flipped through the pages before him, not even bothering to skim the text as he looked for the places he needed to initial or sign. Then he paused as a fresh realization dawned on him.
“How much is all this worth?”
“Honestly?” Naomi’s elegant brows drooped as she frowned. “I don’t know. I’d say at least nine figures. More likely ten.”
Jason’s jaw practically hit the desk. That was a lot of fucking zeroes. “You’re fucking with me, right? A fucking billion?”
“Like I said, I don’t know.” Naomi snorted with pained amusement. “I’d ask why you don’t know your own family’s net worth–”
“My father’s.”
Naomi reluctantly accepted Jason’s rebuke. “Alright, yeah. Your father’s. I’d ask why you don’t know, but I know that answer already.”
Jason had no way to wrap his head around that much money. And he could never have known it was that much. His father never talked about that. He wondered if his mother even knew. And it never mattered to him. He knew they were wealthy. His father’s–No. His Bel Air estate was easily worth tens of millions. Maybe more. But, even growing up in a world where he wanted for nothing–at least materially–that was still a shit ton more money than he could imagine.
Jason’s sigh held a grief so heavy it threatenedto crush him. “I can’t do this, Naomi.”
“Yes, you–”
“No.” The word was sharp, filled with a desperation beyond mere defiance. “I’m serious. This isn’t me running away from shit like usual. I’m telling you, I can’t fucking run a billion-dollar company. I don’t know the first thing about it.” He slapped the pen on the desk and leaned back in his chair, the smooth motion not even producing the faintest squeak. He was adrift, the water was too deep, and a lifeline seemed further away with each passing second. But an idea sparked in the darkness. “That’s why I need you.”
