Page 16 of Idol Lives
“Go for it.”
As Jason’s trusted Security Chief, it was only natural that Seong Hyeon assumed the same role at Brightstar. Anyoneelse might’ve been intimidated by something like that, but not him. That was probably why Eunice Kim’s arrogance couldn’t quite mask her worry, wondering if Jason planned to replace her. He didn’t, but maybe Naomi would.
Naomi, who was late. That was almost as odd as Jason showing up on time. Jason sat at his father’s–no,hisdesk–and pulled out his phone to check for any messages. Nothing. Not even from Tae Hyun. That was understandable. It had to be late in Tokyo. So Jason typed a message for Tae Hyun to see when he woke up.
Hope you’re sleeping well and getting enough to eat. I miss you
Then Jason opened Tae Hyun’s social feed. He’d been dutifully updating it for his fans, posting selfies from the plane and hotel room, pics from his airport meet and greet, and even one he’d taken with Ren Yoshida. Jason used his thumb and forefinger to zoom in, getting a good look at theSweet Beastsinger. Typical J-pop style, from his oversized pants to his chunky, spiked hair. A handsome face with the sharp angles and flawless skin you’d expect from an idol. His fake smile was perfect enough that it could’ve been genuine. Hopefully, they were getting along. Jason had never done a concert tour, but he’d worked with plenty of co-stars he hated. Liking them made the job so much easier. But Tae Hyun was a pro. He’d put on an excellent show either way.
The double doors thumped as they forcefully swung open, depositing a far more harried-looking Naomi than Jason was used to seeing into the office. He ignored the nagging doubt poking around his thoughts as she approached his desk. Everyone was allowed to have bad days. Jason would hardly hold it against someone who’d put up with so much shit from him over the years. And she still looked resplendentin her white silk crepe suit with a highly-tailored jacket and wide-legged pants.
“What happened?” Jason innocently smiled. “Did you get lost?
Naomi grunted, tossing her soft leather briefcase on the desk across from Jason. “They were supposed to send a car for me this morning, but someone gave the driver the wrong damn address.” She huffed as she pulled out one of the chairs on her side of the desk and dropped into it.
“I’m sure it’s not personal,” Jason offered. “They probably just don’t like you.”
Naomi scowled, clearly in no mood for Jason’s shit. “That’s the literal definition of personal.”
Jason chuckled. “Well, they definitely don’t like me, but I still scored the big office.” He paused, thoughtfully frowning. “Actually, I suppose this should really be your office.” He pushed his chair back and stood, holding it out for Naomi. “Here. You take it.”
“What?” Naomi shook her head. “No, I–”
“Take the chair,” Jason firmly cut her off, “Madame President.”
Naomi sighed, showing some of the stress she’d been trying to hide. “Are you sure about this?” Jason nodded. “Really sure?”
Jason nodded again. “I am. So, unless you changed your mind–” He trailed off, gesturing toward the chair.
Naomi stared at Jason’s chair–no,herchair–for long enough that he thought she might actually turn him down. But she smiled instead, slowly rising and coming around the desk. She settled into her new seat, allowing Jason to gently push it into position under the desk.
“I think it fits.” Naomi absolutely beamed. “Thank you.”
Jason chuckled as he wandered to the more familiar side of the desk and took Naomi’s old seat. “Don’t thank me yet. We’ve got a whole building full of people wondering just what the fuck we think we’re doing in here.”
Naomi nodded, her smile briefly slipping. “I know. I’m one of those people.” She reached for her bag and slid it closer. “But I have the contracts ready, and–”
The door thumped open again, revealing a handsome figure radiating confident authority. His sleek black hair was perfectly styled. His lightly tanned skin, flawless. Everything about him, from his sharp, tailored suit to the subtle gleam of his designer watch, screamed privilege and ambition. He couldn’t have been much older than Jason, if at all, but of the three people in the late Gerald Park’s office, he was the only one who seemed to belong there. Not even the coffee cups and saucers he balanced with apparent ease diminished his aura of quiet power.
“My apologies for interrupting.” The man’s smooth voice was surprisingly deep for his youthful face. “Good morning, Mr. Park, Ms. Bell.” He set a steaming cup before each of them. “Ms. Kim mentioned you wanted an Americano, Mr. Park. I took the liberty of bringing a latte for you, Ms. Bell.”
Jason frowned, his gaze fixed on the expensive fabric of the man’s suit. “Uh, thanks. But you’re way too well-dressed to just be a coffee runner.”
The man’s smile was polished and charming. He could’ve been an actor in a courtroom drama. And something about his face seemed hauntingly familiar. Had they worked together before?
“Oh, I’m not a coffee runner. I’m your lawyer.”
Jason snorted. Were his new employees deliberately fucking with him? First, the error with Naomi’s driver, then the world’s best-dressed coffee runner? “No, you’re not. My lawyer’s a middle-aged white guy named Bernie with an office in–actually, I don’t know where his office is. But you’re definitely not him.”
The man offered a single nod, acknowledging the obvious truth of Jason’s statement. “Let me clarify. I’m Brightstar’s Chief Legal Counsel. Since you now own Brightstar, that makes me your lawyer.” He offered Jason his hand. “I’m David Soh Jr.”
“Ah.” Jason nodded, taking David’s hand as the pieces finally fell into place. He’d met him at his father’s funeral. “Junior?”
David’s polite laugh was as polished as his easy smile. “My father was Chief Legal Counsel before me. I guess I inherited the position from him.”
Jason tilted his head, playfully smirking. “Guess we’re both lucky like that, huh?”
David chuckled with genuine amusement, not the polished sound from before. “Indeed,” he replied, a subtle sparkle in his eyes. “Lucky, or perhaps–” He paused, his grin spreading a little wider. “–destined?”
