Page 13 of Love in Focus

“Gemma, if it bothers you that much, I can certainly assign this project to another writer,” Evelyn goes on when I don’t say anything else. “Since Celeste is already contracted to be on this project, the only movement we can do at this point is internal. But I’d much prefer the writer to beyou, since it’s an amazing opportunity.”

Disappointment flashes in her eyes. Evelyn’s done so much for me in the last seven years. She’s probably the reason why I still have this job in the first place. I hate lettingher down, so I blurt out, “It’s not just me, though. I mean, I can handle it, if I have to. But if Celeste knew I’m involved in the project, she wouldn’t want to stay on it, either.”

It’s hardly a lie. Celestehadseemed as uncomfortable around me last night as I was with her. Maybe even more.

“Oh?” Evelyn asks. “If that’s the case, it can’t be helped. Could you please reach out to her and ask her to confirm? Sorry, Gemma. I have a meeting in five. You can cc me on the email if you’d like. I’ll step in if needed.”

As if on cue, Evelyn’s phone rings. She picks up and says, “Yes?”

With her other hand, she jots down an email address onto the back of her own business card before handing it to me as she continues talking to the person on the other line. “Understood. I’m on my way. Thank you.”

I blush, realizing how ridiculous and unprofessional I must seem right now, making a big deal about a work assignment because of a college ex. Fortunately, Evelyn seems to find it amusing, and she and I have a long enough working relationship that this isn’t something she’d fire me over. Or at least, I hope not.

MouthingThank youto Evelyn, I slip out of her office, carrying the business card with my arm stretched out in front of me like I’m handling a vicious viper. Honestly, I would have rather it be an actual snake than a piece of paper with Celeste’s email address. At least then I’d know what kind of situation I’m getting myself into.

Despite the awkwardness, Celeste seemed polite enough when I saw her yesterday, so hopefully the email exchangewill be quick and painless. Hands trembling, I open Outlook and write up the most professional email I can manage.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

CC: [email protected]

Subject: Modern Love in Focus

Hi, Celeste. This is Gemma. I heard we’re bringing you into this project. Unfortunately, I’m also attached to it. It’s understandable if you don’t want to work with me. Let us know and we’ll make changes.

Best,

Gem

I’m about to hit send when, last minute, I add the last “ma” to the end of my name. “Gem” is what Celeste called me when we were dating. It’s also what she called me last night.

Old habits only die when you kill them with force.

During lunch, I get a text from Mom. Since she prefers phone calls, she and I don’t usually text, and especially not during work hours. But when I read the notification, I realize I haven’t talked to my parents since I first told them about my breakup with James.

I can sense all her concerns, fears, and love in the three words she sends.

Have you eaten?

We’re so Korean sometimes, it hurts. In our culture, food is absolutely a love language, and it’s deeply ingrained in our history and how people often went hungry as war tore the land apart. My parents rarely ask me how I’m feeling, but they always ask me if I’ve eaten my meals.

All things considered, I’m glad. “Have you eaten?” is a much easier question to answer than “Are you okay?” I wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to respond to the latter.

I’m about to, I reply. And then in a second message I add,Thanks. I’ll come home for Thanksgiving.

She sends me back a big, red heart, and I do a quick search of flights from SFO to SNA. Since it’s a smaller airport, flights to John Wayne are often pricey and limited, especially during the holidays. But I definitely do not want to ask my sixty-something parents to drive for over an hour in heavy traffic to pick me up from LAX.

The last time I visited my parents was in September for Chuseok, the Korean Mid-Autumn Festival. James and I flew down together. Even then, I had no idea I’d be coming home again so soon, on Thanksgiving, since for the last seven years, James and I always drove down to San Jose to celebrate the holiday withhisfamily.

While my parents do a simple but still delicious meal whenever we celebrate the holidays together, theMathesons always threw extravagant parties in their mansion with tons of relatives and acquaintances. Aside from a few of the servers and other staff, I’d often be the only non-white person there, which initially made me uncomfortable. But after the first couple of years, I got used to it, and thankfully, even though we were clearly in very different tax brackets, everyone was usually super nice and sweet.

Daphne, who is not only white but also—if the office gossip is true—very rich, will probably fit right in from the start. My stomach turns at the thought.

I’m about to shut down my computer and leave the office for the day when I get Celeste’s reply.

From: [email protected]

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