veranda. I’d not checked my phone since leaving the house earlier. I had four texts, one of them from Jae asking me to call him when I could. I dialed him back, and he answered before the second ring.
“Hey, agi .” His purr reached hot fingers into my gut and grabbed my balls. “Are you back at your office?”
“Yeah, planning on coming over?” I could entertain fantasies of my washing machine, but it was already late afternoon, and I had to catch up on the business, especially after wasting the morning sleeping.
“No, not for that.” He’d paused long enough to make me smile. Jae liked sex. He didn’t like getting touched in public, but close the door and things got interesting. “I have to ask you a favor.”
“Sure.” I took my first sip of coffee and gagged at its sweetness. The sugar cut through the bitter, but it took a moment to brace my throat for it. “Whatcha need?”
It sounded like we weren’t going to talk about the morning phone call, his meltdown and anger or my inability to fix his world. I was good with that. I still didn’t know how to fix his world, and even if I did, I wasn’t sure he would let me.
“Andrew’s sick. I need help tonight at the rehearsal dinner. Can I borrow you? It’s at eight.”
Andrew, Jae’s sometimes assistant, was as flaky as Claudia’s pie crusts. He was usually less sick, and more stoned to the gills, but he was cheap and at least knew what camera Jae asked him to fetch. I was already up to help at the reception, a risky thing for Jae since I could barely operate the point-and-shoot I used to take pictures of cheating spouses. He had to be desperate to ask me on such short notice.
“Yeah, of course.” I checked my watch. “I’ve just got to go through some stuff Scarlet sent over and return some calls, but after that, I’m all yours.”
“You were mine before I called.”
Yeah, he still had a good hold of my nuts. We cooed at each other as manfully as we could, then I hung up and went inside. Claudia’d mastered the package, neatly dissecting it like it was a formaldehyde-marinated frog in a biology class. I refilled my coffee cup, leaving off any sugar, and went back to my desk to dig through Dae-Hoon’s life.
A blushing, young Scarlet stared out at me from an old photograph. Beside her, an equally young Korean man with slight acne scars on his cheeks grinned as well, his arm around her. Bright honey highlights streaked their hair, thick swathes of blond through their natural black. Scarlet’s brilliant pink lipstick was nearly as eye-catching as the rubber bracelets around the man’s wrist, his hand dangling over Scarlet’s shoulder. The date on the back told me the photo was taken only a week before Dae-Hoon disappeared. From the looks on their faces, they had not a care in the world.
Apparently, the world didn’t care for them either.
Other photos captured moments of Dae-Hoon’s life, small snippets of time someone thought to snatch from the stream. I stopped at one showing Dae-Hoon with two young boys, his slender arms cradling David and his face lit up with a smile for his Shin-Cho.
Hard to believe the little boy Dae-Hoon was holding would be marrying his lover’s kid in a few days.
“Fucking creepy,” I muttered. Separating out an envelope from the photos and a file folder, I slit it open and shook out the paper inside. For every ounce of her femininity, Scarlet’s masculine side resonated in her writing. With a strong, slashing penmanship, she thanked me again, and I grimaced at the check attached to the note.
“That’s a lot of zeros.” Claudia peered over my shoulder. “Way too many zeros to go find a probably-dead man.”
“Yeah, it’s more than what we agreed to. She and I are going to have to have a talk,” I grumbled. The folder rattled, and then a key ring fell out, a flat plastic card marked with a building letter and numbers. “Bobby and I are going to go digging through a storage locker
“Hey, agi .” His purr reached hot fingers into my gut and grabbed my balls. “Are you back at your office?”
“Yeah, planning on coming over?” I could entertain fantasies of my washing machine, but it was already late afternoon, and I had to catch up on the business, especially after wasting the morning sleeping.
“No, not for that.” He’d paused long enough to make me smile. Jae liked sex. He didn’t like getting touched in public, but close the door and things got interesting. “I have to ask you a favor.”
“Sure.” I took my first sip of coffee and gagged at its sweetness. The sugar cut through the bitter, but it took a moment to brace my throat for it. “Whatcha need?”
It sounded like we weren’t going to talk about the morning phone call, his meltdown and anger or my inability to fix his world. I was good with that. I still didn’t know how to fix his world, and even if I did, I wasn’t sure he would let me.
“Andrew’s sick. I need help tonight at the rehearsal dinner. Can I borrow you? It’s at eight.”
Andrew, Jae’s sometimes assistant, was as flaky as Claudia’s pie crusts. He was usually less sick, and more stoned to the gills, but he was cheap and at least knew what camera Jae asked him to fetch. I was already up to help at the reception, a risky thing for Jae since I could barely operate the point-and-shoot I used to take pictures of cheating spouses. He had to be desperate to ask me on such short notice.
“Yeah, of course.” I checked my watch. “I’ve just got to go through some stuff Scarlet sent over and return some calls, but after that, I’m all yours.”
“You were mine before I called.”
Yeah, he still had a good hold of my nuts. We cooed at each other as manfully as we could, then I hung up and went inside. Claudia’d mastered the package, neatly dissecting it like it was a formaldehyde-marinated frog in a biology class. I refilled my coffee cup, leaving off any sugar, and went back to my desk to dig through Dae-Hoon’s life.
A blushing, young Scarlet stared out at me from an old photograph. Beside her, an equally young Korean man with slight acne scars on his cheeks grinned as well, his arm around her. Bright honey highlights streaked their hair, thick swathes of blond through their natural black. Scarlet’s brilliant pink lipstick was nearly as eye-catching as the rubber bracelets around the man’s wrist, his hand dangling over Scarlet’s shoulder. The date on the back told me the photo was taken only a week before Dae-Hoon disappeared. From the looks on their faces, they had not a care in the world.
Apparently, the world didn’t care for them either.
Other photos captured moments of Dae-Hoon’s life, small snippets of time someone thought to snatch from the stream. I stopped at one showing Dae-Hoon with two young boys, his slender arms cradling David and his face lit up with a smile for his Shin-Cho.
Hard to believe the little boy Dae-Hoon was holding would be marrying his lover’s kid in a few days.
“Fucking creepy,” I muttered. Separating out an envelope from the photos and a file folder, I slit it open and shook out the paper inside. For every ounce of her femininity, Scarlet’s masculine side resonated in her writing. With a strong, slashing penmanship, she thanked me again, and I grimaced at the check attached to the note.
“That’s a lot of zeros.” Claudia peered over my shoulder. “Way too many zeros to go find a probably-dead man.”
“Yeah, it’s more than what we agreed to. She and I are going to have to have a talk,” I grumbled. The folder rattled, and then a key ring fell out, a flat plastic card marked with a building letter and numbers. “Bobby and I are going to go digging through a storage locker
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