Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 819(@200wpm)___ 655(@250wpm)___ 546(@300wpm)
“Taylor is Courtney’s daughter. My friend from high school,” I admitted. “I met up with them both today, and Courtney mentioned that she’d love for the girls to have a playdate.” I winked at Lily. “Queen Nari is considering it.”
“She doesn’t do the considering, Sue. She’s six,” he said slowly, like he was speaking to an idiot. “You’re supposed to discuss these things with me before getting Lily’s hopes up. If you had, I would’ve told you straight out that the answer is no. We don’t let our daughter have playdates with strangers.”
“She—!” I amended my tone, not wanting to yell in front of Lily. “She’s not a stranger. I just told you Courtney is my best friend.”
He crooked a brow. “Your best friend who you haven’t mentioned once in ten years? I don’t know what your scam is, but go run it on someone else. You’re obviously trying to get something from whoever this Courtney is—money most likely—so you’re playing doting mom to get close to her.
“It’s not happening.”
I blew a hard breath out of my nostrils, seriously fighting against the no-yelling rule I just enacted. I knew all of this animosity and suspicion was for Sue—the woman who used someone else’s baby shower as a personal marketing opportunity—but it was seriously annoying being treated like I couldn’t be trusted.
You took over his dead wife’s life, and now you’re making plans for his child, even though you’re a virtual stranger to both of them. Would you trust you?
My anger faded, falling back in the face of plain sense. Alex was a jerk, but I was still in the wrong.
“You’re right,” I said, catching a flicker of surprise on his face. “I should’ve asked you first. More than that, I should’ve introduced you to Courtney and Taylor before I ever thought about a playdate. You have every right to want to know who’s spending time with your daughter.”
“I... Thank you. I appreciate...” His eyes narrowed to slits. “What is this? Why are you being so agreeable?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I twisted away, turning back to the food. “We said we’d do our best to live in harmony during Omma’s final days, so that’s what I’m doing.” I peeked at him through my lashes. “Do you want me to fuss, fight, and argue with you?”
“No, but...” He glanced at Lily. “No, I don’t want to fight. Harmony sounds nice for once.”
“Good.” I clapped, making him jump like I was about to attack. “Then, stop standing around and help. I’m making the bulgogi and the cucumber salad. You’re on rice and drinks,” I said. “I was in the mood for some strawberry-ade, so I got all the ingredients. If you don’t know how to make ade, the recipe is right here.” I plucked the sheet off the counter and held it out to him.
Alex took it from me with two pinched fingers—as though it was used tissue paper and not the recipe to deliciousness.
“I’m making enough for everyone, so make sure you do too,” I told him. “Tonight, we’re having a family dinner.”
Alex slowly moved to the fridge. Opening the door, he glared at the suddenly full shelves like they personally offended him. A sideways step and he was glaring into the pantry.
“Nariboo,” I sang. “Is all of your homework done?”
She shook her head.
“Go finish it in the dining room—”
“Bring your homework into the dining room,” Alex sliced in. “Daddy will be right here if you need help.”
“Okay!” Hopping off the counter, Nari was out and up the back stairs like a bolt.
I watched her go with a smile. “She is just the cutest—”
“I changed my mind.” Alex slammed the pantry door. “I want to fight with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he hissed, bearing down on me so fast, my grip tightened on the knife hilt automatically. “What the hell game are you playing, Sue? What is this domestic goddess routine, and who are you performing it for!” His head whipped this way and that. “You got secret cameras set up in here, or something? Is this the next chapter of your failing business? SueHomemaker?”
“What— I— I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I tossed the knife down. “There aren’t any cameras, and I’m not playing any games! How many times do I have to tell you that I just don’t want to fight anymore!” I screamed that last sentence pretty loud for someone who didn’t want this fight.
“Because this”—he gestured around the kitchen—“isn’t what you do when you don’t want to fight. When you don’t want to fight over the latest, twisted, shitty thing you did, you just withdraw into a sulky lump of wounded pride and victimhood—withholding even the slightest glance in our direction until we give in and apologize to you for what you did.”
Yeah, that sounded like standard Soo Min protocol.