April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions (27 page)

BOOK: April Loves Black Coffee: First Impressions
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I
T IS DARK AND HOT
. The sensation is foreign. I am standing on a spinning plate. The darkness cloaks me, cascading in layers. I walk forward into the vast darkness, not sure of where I am going. All I know is I am desperate to escape this dark labyrinth. A shadow approaches me and my throat tightens. I reach out for him.

Sangwoo.
I want to say. He reaches out and his warm hands are on my cheeks. The lights flare behind us and I am lost in his embrace. Warm and tantalizing. I melt into his arms. Then, his lips are on my lips. They are soft and caressing. I open my eyes, looking into his eyes.

My heart stops.

It is Mayhem.

 

 

I
WAKE WITH A START.
A warm blanket drapes around my shoulders, courtesy of Eunhye sometime in the night. I do my best to catch my breath. My eyes are blinking at a rapid pace to match my chaotic thoughts. Embarrassment colors the undertone of my thoughts. Why am I dreaming about Mayhem? I was lost in his warm, comforting embrace. I can almost taste the tones of his lips on mine.

I wait for a couple more seconds to calm down before I drag myself off the couch and down the hallway to my bedroom. There is no time to dwell on my overwhelming dream. I have a meeting to get to. My knees feel like wet noodles. I grab my bathroom bag and disappear into the shower. I shower quickly and dress in an all-black ensemble–black shirt, black pants, and black shoes.

Eunhye is still sleeping when I leave the apartment. On my way to the nearest bus stop, I check my cell phone and see Sangwoo’s distinctive text message in the inbox. The message is simple with the address to a business building located in the metropolitan part of town.

I send Lina a good morning text message and she texts me back within seconds. Lina wasn’t able to sleep last night, and she agrees to tell Mr. Chun I am sick today. Lina promises to keep me posted on what happens at Sansachun. I call Mr. Chun next and leave him a voice message anyway, afraid that he might fire me. However, if I work for Choi Sangwoo I wouldn’t need to work two jobs to support myself. My thoughts run off tangent. Choi Sangwoo really is not an average employer if he wants to hire me on. There is no gangster bone in my body, blood, or skeleton.
You’re just something to keep him entertained
, my intuition taunts.

As the bus continues en route to the elusive building, the anxiety and apprehension build up inside of me. When the bus finally stops at the nearest stop, I walk one more block. I expect the private building to be behind towering public ones, but to my pleasant surprise Choi International Inc., is a glossy building with baby blue and white tones. It is a long rectangular building with glass and marble encasing. It towers above its adjacent neighbors. I take notice that the neighboring buildings range from a national bank to an insurance group.

Everything about the building is large and intimidating. I walk through the revolving glass doors. The large lobby bathes in the morning sunlight. High windows enclose the entire structure. Above the revolving door is a large magnetic shield; it buzzes slightly when I walk through. The thought that it is a state-of-the-art metal detector flashes through my mind.

The building itself bustles with light foot traffic. Men and women wear professional attire, black on white. It looks just like a scene out of the movies where people are rushing off with manila folders while others are slowly trickling through the building with coffee in their hands.

In the middle of the large lobby is a l-shaped counter. An attractive receptionist is standing behind it. Her hair twists in an elegant hairstyle out of her pale face in modern Audrey Hepburn style. She’s wearing a crisp white pencil skirt with the tail of her pink blouse tucked inside. The diamond studs in her ears match her expensive wristwatch. She stares at me as I approach the counter. Her lips press into a fine line as she asks, “Hello. How may I help you?” Her tone’s professional and clipped.

“Yes. Hello. I have an appointment with Cr-Mr. Choi Sangwoo,” I stutter.

The receptionist’s eyes light up as though she realizes who I am. “Oh, are you Miss Maybelline Lee?”

I cringe at my full name. “Yes.” I suppose Choi Sangwoo has already prompted her.

“Yes. His eight o’clock appointment. Follow me please.” She steps out from behind the counter and extends a hand to me. “Nice to meet you. My name is Yoojin.”

“Nice to meet you too.” Awkwardly, I take her hand in mine.

Yoojin has a strong handshake, making me feel as though I underestimated her delicate appearance. A thought crosses my mind and I look at her neck. She’s wearing a silver necklace with its face inside her blouse. I wonder if she is a Crist member. In fact, are all the people working here Crist members? And if they are not, do they know they are working for a gang leader? Suddenly, the questions inundate my mind. My curiosity about Choi Sangwoo intensifies despite the invisible limits I have mentally nailed down.
Does Mayhem have a massive building too? His is probably twice this size to accommodate his huge ego.
My conscience rocks her head to the side.

“Please follow me. I will take you to Mr. Choi’s office.” Yoojin begins the trek towards the ornate elevators. Her six-inch heels hit the ground in a repetitive manner.

I follow her footsteps only to realize I am getting special treatment for being Sangwoo’s scheduled appointment. Briefly, I wonder what Sangwoo has mentioned to his staff. Perhaps I am an important client in a new business venture–which isn’t exactly too far removed from the truth. Or maybe he kept things succinct and said I am an important appointment that needs to be escorted to his office the minute I walk into the building. With all considerations aside, Yoojin is all business.

I look at her again through the clouds hovering over my thoughts. Her expression remains impassive.

Yoojin already has one elevator waiting for us. She steps aside and motions for me to enter first. A stranger has never given me such respect and attention before.

“Thank you,” I tell her.

“You’re very welcome.” Yoojin’s awfully cheerful.
It has to be fake, just like everything that he is.
My intuition is awake and rubbing her eyes.

The elevator doors close behind Yoojin. The entire interior’s made of glass. I can see Yoojin’s reflection next to me, multiplied by the four walls. I pretend to focus on my feet while Yoojin stares at the reflection ahead. The elevator whisks us to the top. The speed seems to increase as the lights jump from ground level to the fortieth.

When we arrive on the designated floor, the elevator doors ding open. Yoojin steps out first and motions for me to follow. We are now in another lobby facing a lavish round table adjacent to the door. This floor looks like a glamorous museum complete with intricate paintings and sculptures. The woman sitting behind the grand reception table is older, but her face is a classic beauty. Her hair is pinned against her head, revealing a flawless complexion and intimidating dark almond-shaped eyes. She reminds me of a black feline.

“Good morning. This is Maybelline Lee. Mr. Choi’s eight o’clock appointment,” Yoojin explains with a smile that doesn’t touch any of her other facial features.

Cat Woman rises from behind the chair. A speculative look crosses her face, but Cat Woman is nothing short of professional. “Miss Lee. Please come.” She leads me to the gray French doors located to the right of the lobby. “Mr. Choi is waiting for you.”

Oh. The gang leader is waiting.
My intuition sits down on her couch, quiet for once.

There is definitely no turning back now.

I leave Yoojin and Cat Woman to walk through the door. Immediately when I enter, I am compelled to drop my jaw to the floor in complete awe. The office is grand and vast; white undertones upon a deep red color. The furnishing is modern and elite with a large meeting area in the middle of the room. A CEO office desk wraps around the glass windows with the view of Seoul’s skyline. While his penthouse surveys the East of Seoul, Sangwoo’s office building surrounds the belly of Seoul.

Sangwoo is on the phone and doesn’t notice that I am here. He looks every bit of a CEO and less of a gang leader with his dark suit and tie. Once again, I transport into a different world.

“I want it all completely removed and erased. The documentations need to be shredded immediately. Call me when it is done.” Sangwoo’s tone is hard and full of irritation. He snaps the instructions into the phone and listens to the reply with a frown across his striking face. “Ren. Get it done.”

Did he issue something like a kill order? I swallow apprehensively.

Sangwoo hangs up his phone and turns. He pauses when he sees me. “Good morning.” And he is back to his charming self.

“Good morning,” I reply. I stand awkwardly in the middle of his office.

Sangwoo glances at the clock above the door. It is an exotic island with small rowboats for the clock hands. “You’re late.” There is humor in his voice, but the partial truth doesn’t escape me. Sangwoo is a man who operates according to time.

“I’m sorry, I took the bus.” I wonder why I am so keen to apologize to him.

“I can resolve the problem easily. Once I get you a car, time would be running to catch up to you.” The light dances in Sangwoo’s eyes. He is in a warm and playful mood this morning. Could it be that he is happy I am taking up his contract? Speaking of which, he hasn’t mentioned it yet.

“What time do you have to be at The Trax?” Sangwoo asks. He glances at the clock again, indicating borderline obsessive compulsive.

Taken aback that Sangwoo remembers I have work later on, I tell him, “Four.” Is Sangwoo expecting me to start working today? I want to ask him about signing the contract and employee rights, but the look in his eyes defuses me. I am completely intimidated by this man, but not for the more obvious reasons. There’s something about him that is slightly alarming. He is too good to be true, yet guessing what lies beneath his façade is proving to be a difficult task.

“Good. I have you for most of the day.” Sangwoo heads over to his desk.

It’s neatly organized with only a computer monitor and keyboard. A triple stacker houses paperwork and pens. Sangwoo turns the computer screen off and picks up a set of keys from his desk.

“We don’t have much time. Come,” he tells me with diction.

“Where are we going?” I truly don’t know what to expect with this man.

Sangwoo’s brown eyes catch mine. In the morning sunlight, he looks foreign and daunting at the same time. He could easily step into the city painting behind him, but instead Sangwoo’s standing in front of me with undivided attention.

“We are paying a visit to one of my members,” Sangwoo tells me with a guarded tone. “Don’t worry. The only service I require from you is to be by my side. Can you do that?”

“Does this mean that I start work today?” I am under the impression we are going to be signing paperwork today and I will be receiving some kind of Crist employee training. Sangwoo’s intentions confuse me; what does he want to do with me?

A smile crosses Sangwoo’s lips. “We will deal with the paperwork and everything that it encompasses when the time comes. For today, I need to pay a visit to a member of mine and I need for you to come.”

I take note that he said, “Need” instead of “Would like.” It all boils down to semantics, and it gives me the impression that Sangwoo is no fool at conveying what he wants.
Manipulation skills
, my intuition hisses. This is an essential skill all underground citizens have.

“Is this place in Seoul?” I ask slowly.

“It’s not too far from here,” Sangwoo answers with a vague undertone.

At the same moment, his phone rings. “Ren,” Sangwoo answers without reservation. As he listens to Ren’s voice on the other side of the phone line, Sangwoo motions for me to follow him out of the office.

Cat Woman stands from behind her desk at the sight of us. When she sees that Sangwoo is on the phone, she inclines her head respectfully to him and then to me. I hide my surprise by returning her gesture with a short bow.

The elevator is open and waiting.

Sangwoo motions for me to step into the elevator first. When he enters, Sangwoo punches in a code and the elevator drops down. I dare myself to look at our reflections multiplied four times back at us. I appear like a small, lost little girl compared to this larger-than-life gang leader and CEO. How can I possibly be beneficial to him?

Sangwoo remains immersed in his conversation with Ren. His eyebrows come together in agitation. “The acquisition was supposed to happen two days ago. They are stalling and I want to know why. If they want a meeting with me, they’d better have a good reason because I’m not going to waste my time sitting in a board room with a bunch of idiots. I’m not a babysitter Ren, so you can tell the lawyer to draw up something that’s worth my time.”

I can only imagine Ren on the other side of the phone line doing his best to mitigate not only the client’s interests, but also his demanding employer’s interests.

The elevator finally descends to its destination. The doors slide open to reveal an underground parking structure. Bright fluorescent hues light the pathway. Various cars park at adjacent angles, giving off the impression of assigned parking.

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