Love in All the Right Places (Chick Lit bundle) (11 page)

Gio nodded. “I’ll make it fit, Uncle.”

When he stepped out, Min Hee gave him a big hug, nearly knocking his glasses aside.

“Eavesdropper,” he scolded her, but he was laughing.

Chapter Thirteen

WITH MIN HEE’S help, Gio focused on finishing the Anding Torres exhibit. As the deadline approached, he came to work earlier and stayed later. But he really wasn’t complaining, especially when he had company.

“I’m sorry you’re not getting out and enjoying the sights,” he told her, one afternoon that she stayed at the museum. It was her idea to spruce up the fliers and posters to advertise the event. She was working on a small watercolor landscape, White Beach done in faded shades.

Min Hee shrugged. “I’ve decided. It’s a dangerous world out there. It’s much better to be cooped up here.”

“Tired of all the hiding?”

She laughed. “Who’s hiding?”

Gio peered over her shoulder, squinting at what she was painting. She swatted him away playfully. “What are you fussing about there, anyway? Seems to me you’ve been done an hour ago.”

Min Hee looked smug. “Nothing you would understand anyway.”

“Have you ever painted anything like this back in Korea?” Gio asked. The watercolor she was doing captured the beach as if seen through a dream, all soft sea-foam and powder, the colors disappearing into the white edges of the paper. The sea itself danced with different shades—white near the shore moving to pale green, then growing bolder into the deep blue of the horizon. Boracay was usually seen in the loud and bright colors of summer. But under Min Hee’s brush, it looked like a filtered paradise, something old and fragile and familiar.

“You mean painted on canvas?” She shook her head. “I’m far from being a professional. I just like to draw. I used to do it a lot in class. But I don’t even think I’ve drawn this much again until I got here.”

“Why not? You have the talent,” Gio insisted. “This is really good.”

She shrugged. “I have work. I’m too busy with acting now. And I’ve only just begun getting supporting roles, so there are so many things to learn.”

So they were still sticking with that explanation then. What would it be like if it were true? She wouldn’t be painting on a cheap sketchbook in one corner of a small island museum. He could easily imagine her posing for the camera and being fussed over by makeup artists. He could see her giving interviews and sashaying down the red carpet. But if it were true, then where did that leave him? She’d probably have four or five guys at her beck and call. Guys who drove European cars and wore designer suits. Guys who gambled in Macau or Monaco. He was probably better off being one of her assistants than the leading man walking down the carpet with her.

Gio stumbled around for words. “Well, it just seems like such a shame.”

“You sound like you think so little of acting,” Min Hee scolded him.

He shook his head. “No, not at all. I just think that you shouldn’t close your doors on other opportunities, not when you’re so talented.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, just like you haven’t closed yours?”

“What do you mean?” Gio asked.

“Why are you still working here?” Min Hee dropped her paintbrush and walked in a small circle, indicating the museum. She came to a stop right in front of him. “It’s good that you’re working with your family and you’re on this fabulous beach but shouldn’t you be working in some large museum in the city? You’re well educated. You’re dedicated.”

He shrugged. “When my father died, I realized that we weren’t as well-off as I thought we were. I needed to earn a living but the city was just too expensive. So I came back here and stayed to take care of my family.”

“But you should give yourself a chance to try bigger things,” she insisted.

“Bigger isn’t always better. That’s good on paper, sure,” he told her, beginning the speech he always told himself. “But there aren’t all that many opportunities there. So I do what I can with what life gives me. I’m lucky that I’ve got a job like this. I stay close to home, the pay is good, and it’s been pretty exciting lately.”

Min Hee smirked, leaning forward. “Oh really?”

She was standing so close, almost challenging him. Her eyes danced with mischief. He could see clearly the smudge of paint down her jaw, light blue like a wave.

This time there was no hesitation as Gio leaned over and kissed her. He didn’t know why he did it; he just did.

Her lips were ready for him. They tasted sweet, like she had been drinking coconut water before this. He pressed against her top lip, once, twice. One for coconut. Two for vanilla. She nibbled at his lower lip. His hands cupped the curve of her jaw, reaching behind her ears to tilt her face towards him. His glasses bumped against her nose gently. Min Hee brushed his elbows lightly, as if unsure whether to hold on or to keep still. They broke apart suddenly, with Min Hee slowly opening her eyes to look at him questioningly.

“See? Pretty exciting,” he murmured, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. Then he pressed closer and kissed her again. She clung to him tighter now, fingers locked behind his neck, as if she didn’t want to let go.

* * * *

The Anding Torres exhibit was a success. Gio took care of the physical set-up and the remaining launch requirements; Min Hee took over making posters and invites. Gio never asked her to do it, but he was grateful that she was there. She worked as hard as he did, even roping people like Da Kyong and Yeban, uh, Harold to help with the printing and delivering invites. The watercolors she made were scanned and then laid out into posters and marketing materials. She even made some handouts that doubled as postcards, featuring a likeness of the former governor amidst modern island scenes. Gio felt a measure of relief that he wasn’t in this alone, that there was someone else beside him all throughout.

Min Hee seemed to come alive even more when they worked on the project. It was amazing to watch her at her tasks, as if she was somehow a different creature from the flighty woman he had first pegged her to be. In gratitude, he had invited her to the opening of the exhibit, along with the Torres clan, local VIPs, and even a few reporters.

“It’s going to be the event of the low season,” he promised her, his expression deadpan.

She laughed. “You’re just so excited to have me there, aren’t you? Fine, fine, I’ll be there to show my support.”

Min Hee arrived late, just in time for the ceremonial ribbon to be cut. She wore a short red dress with a black bolero, looking uncertainly through the crowd. Her short dress rode up with every movement. Gio had been standing on the far side of the room, near the exhibit, but she immediately picked him out. When their eyes met, her eyes crinkled at the sides.

“Hi,” she mouthed.

“Hi,” he mouthed back.

She pointed to the men beside him. Sir Frank and Uncle Simeon were talking to the mayor’s wife about the next exhibit and Gio couldn’t miss this. He raised a hand to Min Hee, asking her to wait. Five minutes.

He expected her to mingle and charm her way around the crowd. But she stayed in the fringes, away from the limelight, seemingly content with sipping her wine alone and avoiding the cameras. Once, he saw her surrounded by some older gentlemen, and he craned his neck to see her through the suits and
barong
s. Gio quickly extricated himself from his relatives and headed to them. He was about to step in when he saw her expertly weave herself out of the situation.

Maybe it was wrong of him to leave while his bosses and guests were still there, but Gio wanted to slip away. So when Min Hee motioned for them to leave, he took a cup of wine with him and followed.

Boracay at night was far from quiet, but to anyone walking along the beach, the rhythmic lullaby of the waves was louder than the throbbing beats that spilled from the bars. The tide was rising, and Min Hee slipped off her sandals as she walked on the swash, the part of the shore where the waves washed up after breaking. Gio took off his shoes and left them by one of the Aqua tents. He also rolled up his slacks but chose not to follow Min Hee into the water. They walked close to each other, separated only by the thin wet mark between the beach swash and dry sand.

“You okay?” he asked. “You have to forgive them, they tend to corner every pretty girl they meet.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? So you see a lot of pretty girls around here?”

Gio trailed his thumb over where Min Hee’s bolero sleeve met her skin. He watched the smile tug at her lips when he did that. “I don’t notice,” he said solemnly.

Min Hee hooked her pinky around his as they walked. They were silent for a while, just content to listen to the sound of the waves.

“I wish Nay Caring could have been here,” Gio murmured. Inviting the older woman to the launch itself had been out of the question, but he extended a special invitation to her family. They had promised to visit once the rest of the paintings had been hung.

“I think she would have been happy to see people admiring her work,” Min Hee agreed.

Gio turned to her. “You know, I really couldn’t have done this without you.”

She laughed. “Yes, you could! And you would have. You know your problem is, Mr. Museum? You just don’t trust yourself enough. But if you just keep on pushing yourself to do what people least expect of you, then you’ll be fine!”

“It’s always worked for me,” he noted, crushing the plastic cup in his hand.

“So dependable.” Min Hee wrinkled her nose. “But you know what? Strangely, I think it’s one of the things I like most about you. You make me think.”

He tugged on her arm so that she was facing him. “You’re a contradiction, you know that?”

Min Hee stood on her tiptoes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. But as she drew away, he leaned and kissed her again, deeper and longer than the first time. The sandals she held in her hand rested against his back. He could feel the waves seeping between his toes, but he didn’t care. He pressed closer until they were both standing in the water. His lips nudged hers so that they parted for him. The lights and sounds of the beach faded into the background.

When they drew apart, Gio smiled down at her. “Uh, would you like to come and see my hometown? I’ve got some free time the day after tomorrow. It’s not much but…” He shrugged, suddenly embarrassed that he asked. “You can even bring Da Kyong.”

“I think I’d like that,” Min Hee replied softly. It took them a while before they could return to the party.

Chapter Fourteen

GOSSIP TRAVELED fast in small provinces. Even before Gio could bring up Min Hee to his mother and grandmother, they seemed to have found out about it.

Lola Lising stared at him blankly when asked. “Your cousin Carlos was here the other day. He said his mother was at the exhibit launch and your Auntie Teresa told her about the Korean girl. I thought you meant to tell me first? I am disappointed in you,
hijo.
”

“There was nothing uh,
definite
to tell, Lola.”

“And now?”

He smiled. “I’d like to invite her over to have dinner with you.”

* * * *

Despite his mother’s initial reservations, she eventually extended an invitation to Min Hee and Da Kyong. The two girls seemed excited, Da Kyong more than Min Hee. The latter just seemed to just be nervous all throughout the ride home.

Lola Lising sniffed the air. “This one,” she pointed to Min Hee. Gio ducked his head in embarrassment.

But Min Hee had come with her batteries on full charge. “Thank you for inviting us!” she said enthusiastically. Then she seemed to remember how Gio had greeted Nay Caring. This time, without any cue, she took Lola Lising’s hand and placed it on her forehead.

Lola Lising seemed very pleased. In fact, she had been the one to lead the two girls to the table. Dinner was chicken done
binakoe
-style, cooked inside a thick bamboo until tender, and some fresh seafood that his mother had grilled. Mama had been harder to win over than Lola Lising. She seemed more reticent than usual, watching her manners and her English with foreign guests, but Gio could tell that she wasn’t too pleased that he had brought someone home. But Min Hee reined in enough of her chatter to ask his mother thoughtful questions about the food, and kept on bringing up her own family. In a way, it was nice; he was learning more about her as the evening unfolded. Min Hee and Da Kyong seemed like sisters, the way they were so close. Soon even the older girl was getting more confident about her English and was joining the conversation.

Even Toni joined them through Skype. After dinner, he had brought the girls around a short walk around the quiet town plaza, before heading up to his room to introduce them to Toni via their nightly video chats. He hadn’t told his sister about Min Hee’s so-called ‘profession’ but the two of them found plenty else to chat about.  When Min Hee had to step away from the keyboard for a bit, his sister gave him an impish smile. “So this is why you’ve been asking about Korean music. You’ve been holding out on me, huh? Reese is going to be devastated.”

“I was going to tell you,” Gio admitted. “Eventually.”

Min Hee returned and sat cross-legged on his bed. “He talks about you a lot, you know.”

Toni preened. “Really?”

“He’s a good older brother to have,” Min Hee said. “He knows how to take care of someone and make her feel safe.”

Toni just laughed. “You’re filling his head with nonsense.”

Da Kyong had gone to bed first and soon, Toni said good night as well. That left Gio and Min Hee. He was suddenly a bit conscious, revisiting his awkward high school years. And those hadn’t even included a pretty girl.

“I thought I told you to retire this,” she said, pinching his sleeve.

Gio looked down on his father’s 25
th
Reunion shirt. “It’s my father’s. It’s the only thing of his I wear regularly.”

“He passed away recently, right?” she asked softly. So she had been listening. “I saw the picture downstairs. You must love him very much.”

Over the past year, Gio had gotten used to moving his grief from one compartment to another because it was easier to deal with it that way. First, he had kept it with his anger, anger at life for being so cruel, anger at his father for not taking care of himself better. Then when that turned him bitter, he tried to bury it with work and family just so he didn’t have to deal with it every day. Someone had to man up. Someone had to help the family. Someone had to leave the city and take care of affairs at home. Later on, the grief turned to resentment, then regret, then whatever emotion was available. He never really thought to label it for what it was.

He nodded slowly, squeezing her hand. His voice felt dry. “Yeah. I loved him very much.”

They were quiet for a while, just sitting on his bed, knees knocking against each other. Hands squeezing like a conversation. Finally, Min Hee grinned. “Keep it out of sight then if it’s too precious.”

“I am. I’m not wearing it in public now, am I?” he answered. Not that she was wearing anything fashionable either. She was in shorts and an oversized shirt that fell to her knees. Her hair was gathered in a loose bun on top of her head.

“I meant don’t wear it at all.”

There was an innuendo on his lips, but he thought it too crass to say. Instead, he just looked at her until she lowered her eyes to his hand, where it had rested lightly over hers. He didn’t know who moved first. Maybe he had. One moment they had what his Lola Lising would call ‘space for the Holy Ghost’ between them (some Catholic schoolboy admonishments were hard to forget); the next they were a tangle of limbs (though some were easier to dismiss).

Kissing Min Hee was easier now. They leaned back so that they were nearly horizontal on his bed. Min Hee’s back was propped up by his pillows. Her knees bumped against his thighs. Gio wasn’t as smooth as he wanted to be, but neither was Min Hee for that matter. But it felt good to kiss her and they sank deeper and deeper into each other.

She was the first to push away. “Gio,” she murmured in between kisses.

“Hmmm?”

Her palm pushed against his chest. “This is good—”

Gio leaned back a bit. “But?”

She laughed shakily. “But it’s moving too fast for me.”

“Oh.” He moved away. “I’m sorry—”

Min Hee tugged on his sleeve. “I don’t mind if you just hold me,” she said softly. “I like it when you hold me.”

He liked it, too, but he didn’t want to tell her that he liked it better when he was kissing her. In the end he moved, fully clothed, to the center of his bed. He draped his arms loosely about her. She giggled when the bed shifted around to accommodate his weight.

“Or maybe I should go back to the guest room with Da Kyong,” she whispered.

He tightened his grip around her then shook his head. “No, stay.”

They were quiet for a few minutes. Gio didn’t dare kiss her again, not because he was afraid he was going to lose control, but because he didn’t want to regret it even more when they stopped. So instead they talked about other things: dinner, families, travel. She was very careful about what she shared him with him, picking scenes from her childhood and neatly avoiding any talk of relationships. Gio kept thinking about the guy on the phone. Until finally, he asked, “Are you going to tell me anything about your life back in Seoul?”

She snuggled closer, turning around so her back was to him. “I’ve told you plenty, haven’t I?”

Gio sighed and held her closer. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. When he lifted a leg over hers, he waited for her to protest, but there was nothing. She stayed spooned between his legs, light and unmoving. He wanted to ask her so many things. He wanted to ease away these worries that lurked behind her eyes. But every time he pushed and probed, he just got the dreadful feeling that he was pushing her away.