Page 24 of Booked on a Feeling

“Can you imagine what your firm will think if they find out you’re providing your services free of charge?”

“Oh, my God.” She giggled into her hand. “It’s going to be so liberating to work without thinking about billable hours. I told you how we have to keep track of our time in six-minute incrementsevery single day.”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. Keeping track of your time alone sounds like a full-time job,” he said with a sympathetic grimace.

“It is.” Lizzy flopped her head down on the table as though just talking about billing was exhausting her.

But in reality, she looked anything but exhausted. Her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes twinkled with laughter. There was a vibrance to her that he hadn’t seen in a long time. He was glad her time in Weldon was doing her some good.

“I have to write down the tiniest details.” She squinted, bringing her thumb and index finger together until they were almost touching. “Like three minutes to make a call and leave a message. Two minutes to reply to a short email. I have sticky notes everywhere on my desk by the end of the day until I input everything into the billing system, and I have to start all over the next day. And of course, we have to use fancier wording for the actual billing: 0.1 hours—telephone conference with so and so about this and that; 0.1 hours—draft email correspondence to so and so about this and that. Ick.”

“Ickabout sums it up.” He shook his head, appalled for her. “You never told me the nitty-gritty details of billing before.”

“And waste the few times we get to see each other bitching about work? Hell no.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re getting a break from all of that.”

“Me too.” She smiled sweetly at him. “This is nice.”

His heart tripped and face-planted itself against his ribs. The more time he spent with Lizzy, the less likely it seemed that he would be able to pull off Option Two. No, he couldn’t get discouraged. She was bound to irritate him sooner or later.

“I bet you say that to all the guys who buy you Mexican food,” he said to cover his sudden panic.

“Heyyyy,” she protested, scowling with indignation, “I do not discriminate based on the cuisine.”

He snorted.

“Besides, who said you were buying me dinner?” She munched on another chip. “You bought breakfast last time. This one’s on me.”

“Damn it. I should’ve ordered something more expensive.” He made a show of looking around the restaurant for Suzie, then grinned at Lizzy. His beautiful Lizzy. He drank in the sight of her, happiness curling his toes—but in a very platonic, friend-like way. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I bet you say that to all the gals who buy you Mexican food.” She fluttered her eyelashes.

Oh, God.She was just playing around, but the coy, flirtatious curve of her lips made him think very bad thoughts. He gulped down half his drink. There was no need to panic. He had almost three whole weeks to get over her. He could do this. Couldn’t he?

CHAPTER SIX

Not to make herself sound like a holiday turkey, but dinner with Jack left Lizzy nicely stuffed and toasty warm inside. He was a wonderful listener—his eyes never glazed over even when she talked about her lawyering woes—but sometimes it was the things she didn’t have to say that made spending time with him feel so good. She wanted to wrap the lovely feels all around her and snuggle under the covers with them. A smitten sigh escaped her as she slipped her shoes off.Smitten? What? No.It was just a happy sigh.

Unfortunately, the dreaded phone call to Korea hung over her head like a Charlie Brown cloud. Her monthly calls with her mom were never warm-and-fuzzy affairs. She spent most of it reassuring her mom that she was working hard and excelling at her job, listing every praise and accolade she could think of. And without fail, her mom would end the call sounding mildly disappointed in her.

There was going to be nothing mild about her disappointment when Lizzy told her about her time off from work. She trudged to the kitchen and poured herself an unsophisticatedamount of red wine before sitting down at the two-person dining table. The straight-backed wooden chair gave her the illusion of having a backbone when it came to facing her parents.

Lizzy had been nine years old when her family immigrated to the United States. Her dad was assigned to the Los Angeles branch of Korean Air for a few years. Her parents thought it was a golden opportunity for their daughter to get the coveted American education. But once they came here, her dad was always working, and her mom found living in Los Angeles suffocating. It wasn’t just the language barrier. Everyone drove everywhere in Southern California, but she couldn’t drive—and was too afraid to learn—so she wasstuckat home… with Lizzy.

At first, Lizzy’s bringing home straight As and getting on the honor roll made her mom smile, but soon nothing she did seemed to be enough. When her dad was reassigned to the Seoul office—she had just started high school—her mom decided to return to Korea with him.

Lizzy had to stay behind for her American education.

Her attempt at a deep breath caught in her throat, and she felt mildly light-headed, a sure sign that anxiety was taking hold. This was getting out of hand. She was calling her mom, not walking to the guillotine. Yet there was something honest and blunt—figuratively speaking, because a literal blunt blade was probably way worse than a sharp one—about the guillotine that held a certain appeal. She should quit stalling and rip off the Band-Aid.Off with her head!She jabbed the Dial button with grim determination.

“Yeoboseyo?” Her mom picked up on the third ring and answered with a generichelloas though she didn’t know who was calling.

“Umma, it’s me,” Lizzy said in Korean. Her voice came outan octave higher than usual, making her sound like a ten-year-old.

“Saeyoon-ah. You’re doing well?” She sounded perfectly pleasant if not overjoyed to hear from her only daughter. It was true they spoke at least once a month, but sometimes it would be nice to feel missed.

“Um… yeah. Mm-hmm.” Which was true. Shewasdoing well. Besides, she couldn’t start off the conversation withI’m taking three weeks off from work because I’m utterly burned out.“You and Appa are good, too, right?”

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