The Billionaire and the Runaway Bride by Nadia Lee

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Yuna

On the way to the hospital, I start to text Ivy and Tony, then change my mind and text all my friends. Mom could potentially run into any of them if they go to see the twins.

–Me: My mother’s in L.A. Please don’t tell her about Declan.

–Court: No problem.

–Evie: Um. Did you sleep with him?

Damn. She’s good.

–Kim: She slept with him. Wouldn’t be asking if he was just her boss.

–Court: I didn’t even think about that.

–Edgar: I knew there was something between the two of you.

–Nate: Lucky man. He needs to kiss your feet every day.

–Me: Yes. We are officially In a Relationship. But Mom doesn’t know yet, and I need to figure out how to bring it up without freaking her out. One hundred dossiers, remember?

–Jo: But if you’re with Declan, who cares about the dossiers?

–Me: My mother. Her goal for me isn’t just a “relationship.”

If it were, my life would be easier.

–Tony: My lips are sealed.

–Me: Thanks.

“Are you texting your father?” Mom says.

“No. Why?” Is Dad supposed to tell me what’s going on?

“You should. He misses you.”

“Isn’t it pretty late in Seoul right now?”

“Then text Mr. Park, so he can give him a message.”

Poor Mr. Park. He’s probably still working. “I’ll call Dad later.”

Mom pats my knee affectionately. I put my phone away and keep it in my purse.

The second we enter the suite at the hospital, Ms. Lim and Ms. Kim get busy laying out giant fruit baskets and flowers. Mom also brought lots and lots of balloons. And cake. Because no birthing is complete without a three-tier cake.

Tony is here, of course. “Thank you,” he and Ivy say, smiling as Mom fusses.

“This is the least I can do for my daughter,” Mom says in English. “If you were in Korea, I would’ve arranged for more.” She sighs.

She’s probably thinking about all the things she could’ve done to spoil Ivy in Seoul. Mom’s convinced she needs to step up because Ivy doesn’t have a mother and Tony’s mom is… Well, she’s one of those people who would be better off dead for the improvement of humankind. That leaves my mom to act as Ivy’s mother, a responsibility she takes seriously.

Ivy flushes, and I squeeze her hand. As much as Ivy appreciates what Mom does, I can sense she’s also flustered at the lavish attention being thrown at her.

“Now, let me see my honorary grandchildren.” Mom peers at the twins Ivy is holding. “Oh my goodness, they’re so cute! Do you mind if I hold them?”

“Sure. Go ahead.” Ivy smiles.

“I want to hold Katherine,” I say. You can never cuddle enough with your honorary niece. Besides, she’s named after Tony’s late sister, who still means a lot to him. I want to shower Katherine with all the love and have Tony and Ivy both know she is going to live a long, healthy and happy life.

“I’ll hold Sebastian, then.” Mom takes the boy. Then she notes the anklet. “This is absolutely stunning. Excellent taste. Where did you get it?”

“A friend got it for us. He had one made for Katherine, too,” Tony answers.

“I want to know where he got them made. I want one made for Yuna’s children.” Mom gives me a mildly disapproving look.

I give her a thin smile back. It sucks that I can’t seem to make myself totally immune to her disappointment. She’ll never stop hinting—rather obviously—until I give her grandchildren. And that’s plural, because while she’s annoyed that Eugene hasn’t produced more, she’s also accepted that it isn’t going to happen. I don’t know why it’s become my duty—she should freeze his assets until he procreates more!—but it makes me feel like an unused baby-making machine at times.

“If this one”—Mom indicates me—“ever gets around to marrying and producing some grandchildren for me to bounce on my knees. Ideally before I become too old and arthritic.”

“Mom, you’ll never be arthritic,” I say, switching to Korean and doing my best not to be sarcastic. Mom strides like a model in her high heels and has an army of masseuses and assistants to make her life run smoothly.

“You never know, dear. I’m not getting any younger,” she says.

“None of us are.”

“Obviously. Now stop talking back to your mother. It’s unbecoming.” She turns back to my friends. “Ivy? Tony? Do you mind if I take pictures of the babies? I want my husband to see them.”

Oh, crap. No, no, no…

If Dad sees Mom holding the babies, he’s going to tell me to get married and pop some out. Dad can be weirdly greedy about grandbabies. He is even unhappier than Mom that Eugene hasn’t produced more than one child. He told Eugene so at a family dinner once in front of his wife, and Eugene responded that it wasn’t due to a weekly lack of trying. My brother doesn’t seem to care that I didn’t need to know the frequency of his attempts, because that’s gross—although thinking back on it, I think he lied. He doesn’t have the time to do that sort of activity with his wife.

So that made Dad even more determined to marry me off, ideally to some virile young stud—I mean, a young, wealthy, overeducated chaebol heir with a high sperm count, a very private piece of information that I’m certain Dad’s people can unearth, because they’re scary like that. He wouldn’t care that I don’t want to have a merger husband and merger babies.

“Go ahead,” Tony says, apparently oblivious to my desperate telepathic message asking him to say no.

“Thank you.” Mom turns to Ms. Lim, who pulls out her phone and snaps a few pictures. “Send the best ones to my husband. Tell him we’re doing fabulously. Also tell him Yuna’s well.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mom turns back to Ivy. “Do you have nannies yet?”

“Not yet. We thought it might be best for us to enjoy our time with the babies.”

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t, but dear, how can you enjoy the babies if you don’t sleep?”

“Tony and I are taking tur—”

“It sounds romantic and wonderful to say you’re going to do it yourself, but in reality, it’s awful. Sleep deprivation is a killer. It destroys marriages and puts wrinkles on your otherwise pretty face. Not even facials and Botox can fix them.”

“Mom, I’m sure Ivy’s thought of everything,” I say.

“Everyone thinks they’ve thought of everything until they realize they haven’t. It’s especially true of new parents.”

“Hiring nannies feels like a lot of work,” Ivy explains. “All the background checks and everything. It makes me a little nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous, my dear. All desirable things require work. I can still point out the wrinkles I got from lack of sleep after I had Eugene and Yuna.”

Here we go again,I think with a mixture of affection and exasperation. Her war stories and battle scars. Maybe I should tell her that since I don’t want to get wrinkles, I don’t want to have babies. Which means I don’t need a husband.

“Babies never, ever sleep through anything, in my experience. And after four days of no sleep, I gave up and hired a nanny. But with you, you have twins. There’s no guarantee they’re going to wake up at the same time to be fed. For all you know, they might alternate. And if they alternate, they’re going to wake each other up.”

Horror slowly dawns on Ivy and Tony’s faces. Yup. That’s my mom, the Edgar Allen Poe of new maternity.

“If you want, I can bring the nannies who took care of Minho. That’s Eugene’s son. I don’t think you met him.”

“I don’t think they’ve met Eugene,” I add.

“And if they’re not to your liking, I have a list of trilingual nannies I made for Yuna’s children, so they can naturally acquire three languages. Since Yuna’s being uncooperative, I don’t mind letting you use them instead, Ivy.” Mom smiles sweetly.

I try not to roll my eyes. She’s trying so, so hard to make me feel bad about not getting married and giving her all the grandchildren she wants. But if I tried to satisfy her need for grandchildren, I’d have to pop out enough to fill a symphony orchestra.

“We’ll definitely think about it. Thank you,” Ivy says.

“All right. Then I won’t bother you anymore about that, because I’m really here to cuddle with the babies.” Mom kisses Sebastian’s forehead. “Afterward, Yuna, you and I are going to have dinner and discuss some things.”

“What kind of things?” If it’s about what’s going on in Korea, she’s going to demur, because we don’t discuss certain private family business in front of others, even if it’s my soul sister.

“Fresh new bachelors. We found some you’ll like.”

Mom sounds way too convinced for my own good, and that strikes terror into my heart. Actually, the terror I’m feeling is like a wrecking ball. Whenever my mom says “some you’ll like,” it never ends well. I disagree with her options and her feelings get hurt.

Not to mention, I still haven’t figured out a graceful way to bring up Declan.

“Hey, Mom, guess who I slept with?” isn’t really the best opening. On top of that, she’s going to want to commission a dossier on him and ask me if I plan on marrying him. She thinks I’m too old to just be dating.

We return to the hotel. I realize I haven’t contacted Declan even once since he dropped me off at Ivy’s place.

I pull out my phone and angle it so Mom can’t read the screen.

–Me: I’m about to have dinner with Mom. Wish I could spend the evening with you instead.

Although that might be difficult with Mr. Choi around again. He takes his job super seriously. He’s the perfect bodyguard when I want to be left alone, but the worst when I want some intimate time with my new boyfriend.

–Declan: Me too.

–Me: Sorry. This isn’t how I envisioned our first day as a couple.

–Declan: No prob. You couldn’t have done anything about your mom showing up.

I can feel the gentle soothing in the text and sigh. I so want to see him right now.

–Declan: Promise not to mope around alone at home. Haha. I’m going to meet Aiden for drinks. You haven’t seen your mom in a while, so have a good time.

–Me: Thanks! Have a great time with Aiden, too! <3

I smile and put the phone away before Mom can ask me who I’m texting. Once we reach the hotel, we go to the restaurant on the top floor for cocktails and dinner. Ms. Lim already arranged everything, because that woman can sense what Mom wants before she says it.

The table we get seated at is in a corner with a perfect view of the city. I order a margarita with an extra shot of tequila because I’m going to need it. Mom orders a glass of dry Riesling, and we drink with a platter of fresh lobster chunks, prawns and oysters between us to serve as anju, snacks Koreans like to eat while drinking.

“Your dad and I’ve given this whole marriage thing a lot of thought, and we know what the problem is now,” Mom begins.

Uh oh.“You do?”

“Yes. We gave you too many choices.”

“I thought having lots of options was great. The more the merrier.” I’m dreading where this is going. Should I just tell her I’m in a relationship with Declan and I don’t think I can go with her picks? But how should I start? If she asks me questions about his family, friends, education, finances and so on, I won’t be able to answer any of them. But she’s going to expect me to know because that’s how it would be if I were dating somebody in Korea.

Then I also remember that Declan and I agreed we’re in a relationship, but he didn’t say he was thinking of marriage. That’s going to make him completely unacceptable to Mom, even more so than him not being Korean—a deal-breaker in itself—not merger material and not from the right echelon of society.

So many strikes against him. My head starts to throb.

“Having too many choices leads to paralysis and indecision. I thought we were above that, but I suppose psychology is universal. So. Your dad and I went over the candidates and picked out the best three.”

If this was about which three companies to invest in, I’d be ecstatic. Dad’s good with that sort of thing. But marriage? I’m sure they picked out the three best merger candidates.

“This one in particular is excellent,” Mom says. “Ryu Taejo. He’s only a year older than you, is in charge of a thriving construction arm within Se-In Group and he’s an excellent violinist. His favorite composition is Vitali’s Chaconne in G-minor, which also happens to be your favorite. It’s like it’s fate!”

Yeah, just like it’s fate that a dog and I both like eating steak.

“And he plays it like a dream,” Mom continues. “I have a recording if you want to hear it.”

I start to say no thanks. I’m quite happy with Heifetz’s recording and don’t need this Ryu Taejo’s rendition. But before I can decline, Mom shakes her head. “Never mind. I’ll have Ms. Lim send it to you. Once you hear it, you’ll know how talented he is. His performance makes your soul soar, which means he has the sensitive, delicate heart you’re looking for.”

Oh jeez. This is an angle she’s never tried before. Should I point out most artistic geniuses are neither sensitive nor delicate? They’re more like temperamental assholes. And womanizers. And crazy. And have syphilis. So many classic composers died from it. I mean, none of them cut off an ear like Vincent van Gogh. But that’s setting the bar pretty low.

Besides, nobody who is in charge of a construction company has a sensitive, delicate heart. It wouldn’t last a second in the midst of all the jackhammering ruckus.

Mom adds, “Not to mention, it’d be adorable because you could play Chaconne together.”

“If I need somebody to play it with me, I can always ask one of my classmates from Curtis,” I say with a thin smile.

“You don’t have to be so negative,” Mom says. “I just want you to be open-minded. He’s also very handsome.” She gestures at Ms. Lim, who brings over three large, glossy photos. “Take a look.”

I make a show of studying the pictures. Mom won’t stop otherwise.

Okay, so…he’s not bad. Nice black hair, slightly slanted black eyebrows and wide-set eyes. But I’ve been with Declan Winters for three weeks now. Ryu Taejo simply doesn’t stack up.

“If you want, I can arrange to have him fly out here to meet you. A vacation. Just the two of you.”

“Please, no,” I say. “That’s not what I need right now. Besides, I can’t just take time off to meet some guy. I’m a working woman, remember?” Who would’ve thought Eugene’s ridiculous bet would come in handy?

Mom sighs. “Fine. Have Ms. Kim work wherever you’re frittering away what’s left of your twenties until they find a permanent replacement.”

“Mom! That is soooo unprofessional.” There’s no way I’m letting Ms. Kim work for Declan and have the pleasure of counting reps when he works out! That task belongs to me!

“I’m serious, Yuna.” Mom shifts until she’s sitting straighter. “You’re going to get married by this winter. The venue Ms. Hong reserved is rather nice. It’s one of four I selected, actually.”

Mom’s too serious, and her deadline is weird. Why this winter? She always wanted me to marry in late spring because that’s apparently the best season for weddings. “Why? Is Hae Min in trouble?”

She looks away, her eyebrows pinching briefly.

There’s definitely something strange going on. Suspicion already took root; now it blooms like a poisonous flower in my gut. “You’ve been acting really odd. If I have to get married by a certain time, I deserve to know the whole story.”