Page 19 of Mother Parker
Don’t get me wrong, I liked sex as much as the next guy, but I wanted more. I wanted a friend, as well as a lover. A guy that was…interesting, at least.
Like Mr. Dorothy.
His image hadn’t faded from my head all day and night since yesterday.
His size, his eyes, his smile.
There was no fat chance in hell that a guy like him would be interested in me. Guys likethatdidn’t fall for guys likeme.
And if we ignored the fact that I didn’t know who he was or whether I’d ever see him again—and other things like that—first encounters more akin to meet-cutes still only ever happened in fiction.
They certainly didn’t happen to me.
Some days I wished I didn’t live on such a small island. That my halmeoni and omma had decided to move to a major city when I was younger, but they hadn’t. Besides, I’d tried my hand at dating in Cape Cod some moons ago, and it wasn’t any better.
That was why I’d decided I had to focus on my dreams. My career. That was tangible and predictable. Love…wasn’t.
“Anyway…” I took a deep breath and tried to dispel the storm of thoughts inside me. “What do you want, Carson?”
Carson stared at me for a second and then shook his head disapprovingly.
“Nothing. I just came to see if you wanted to go out later. You need a break, and I’m off as we’ve established already.”
I scratched my chin and stared at my friend. My opening times were eight a.m. to seven p.m., but I guessed I could close an hour early—maybe. If for nothing else than to appease Carson so he’d stop forcing me to get a life.
What was with everyone asking me to get one of those the last few days?
Why couldn’t I be happy being loveless running my own business?
“Fine.” I sighed.
“Gee, be a little less excited, man, won’t you?”
I laughed. “Sorry. Yeah, sure. That sounds like a plan. Come back at six-thirty, and we can go out.”
Carson punched the air in triumph, winking at me before he walked out.
I returned to my photoshoot, but since I was a couple drinks short, I made some more and got creative. Only half an hour later, a group of friends came in and tried some fruity teas, and since it was almost lunchtime, I upsold them some paninis.
A few hours and several customers later, it was time to close and get ready for my night out with Carson.
I brought all my patio furniture in, locked the front door, disposed of all the tea in the urns, cleaned up, and finally went upstairs to my apartment with only five minutes to spare before Carson arrived.
I walked to the ladder that led to my bed on the small mezzanine and opened the closet I’d installed next to it. Since there was only enough space for a bed and a lamp in my bedroom, I had to get creative with everything else.
Of course, I did have a guestroom, but then I’d have to subject any guests to a ladder and a low ceiling, and I couldn’t imagine Halmeoni climbing that thing.
I picked a black mesh T-shirt, a white-and-green floral long-sleeved shirt as a jacket, changed to a pair of skinny dark-blue jeans, and finished the look with black cargo boots with sprayed-on glitter for extra pizzazz.
When I was dressed, I checked myself in the full-length mirror.
“Not bad, Hwanchan,” I said aloud, running a hand through my hair.
Before I left, I reapplied some more glue to the sideburns where the wig had come loose after a full day of work and applied some pink lip gloss.
“Hi, Kimchis, I’m about to go out with my friend Carson, and I thought you’d want a peek at my look for tonight!” I said to my Instagram fans as I went through the house and down the stairs back to the shop.
Ooh. Is he a date?
