Page 110 of Role Play
Following J.P.’s lead, I throw back the shot, expecting something akin to the smoothness of vodka. Instead, it’s sweet and deceptively mild—the kind of drink that’ll have you on the floor before you realize what’s happening.
I turn to Sora. “That was really good. I think—” I stop short when I see her bewildered expression, her shot glass still full, teetering between her fingers. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“What the hell kind of speech was that?” she asks accusingly, looking between her mother and father.
“I thought it was quite nice,” her mother chimes in.
“Yeah,too nice. Is no one else concerned that an alien parasite might be safe-harboring in Dad’s body right now?”
Ms. Cho shrugs. “It’s crossed my mind, but I prefer the parasite to the old version of your dad.” She proceeds to fill her glass again, a playful grin on her face as she refills the other empty soju glasses, mine included. “Drink up. It’s bad luck to leave it on the table,” she tells her daughter.
Begrudgingly, Sora throws back her shot like it’s water, not reminiscent of a girl who rarely drinks.
“So,” J.P. strikes up, setting down his glass with deliberate precision, “you’re living with my daughter at my house?”
“Dad, I thought you just said it wasmyhouse now?” Sora warns. “And it’s not like that.”
“On the contrary, it’s exactly like that,” he counters. “You share a residence. That’s the definition of living together.”
I clear my throat. “Sir, I should explain. Sora has been kind enough to let me and my daughter, Dakota, stay with her temporarily. My ex left the country?—”
“Left her four-year-old daughter behind,” Sora adds.
“—and Sora offered her home as an alternative. My old apartment isn’t suitable now that I have my daughter full-time. And you know how real estate is in New York City.” I run a hand through my hair, painfully aware of J.P.’s penetrating stare. “It’s been a tremendous help. But it won’t be forever. I realize how that sounds, taking advantage of Sora’s generosity, but?—”
“Son, calm down,” J.P. interrupts. “You’re not on trial. We’re glad Sora’s making new…friends. Daphne is a bit much, even in small doses.”
“You’ve met her like four times ever,” Sora grumbles.
“Case in point,” he sasses back. “Anyway, Mr. Hawkins, what do you do for work?”
The million-dollar question.I feel Sora tense beside me.
“Financial consulting,” I answer smoothly. “Mostly private clients.”
“Private clients,” J.P. repeats, turning the phrase over like he’s examining a suspicious object. “Must be lucrative. You and Jennifer have a lot in common. Same field.”
My face fills with heat. Oh shit. Sora didn’t tell me her mom’s profession is my fake one. I scramble, racking my brain for any finance jargon I can pull out of my ass in a hurry.
“It pays the bills,” I say, keeping my expression neutral despite the sudden warmth crawling up my neck.
Luckily the conversation steers to Dakota, which is an easy topic for me. Ms. Cho asks questions about Dakota’s milestones, her hobbies and interests, enthused, like she’s her own grandchild. Conversation flows easily until the first round of food arrives.Banchanas Ms. Cho explains it—small side dishes that precede the main meal. She immediately begins describing each one, her hospitality overshadowing her ex-husband’s somewhat grumpy demeanor.
“This is kimchi, fermented cabbage. And here we have japchae, sweet potato noodles. This one is quite tasty,” she exclaims, pointing to a vibrant red dish.
“Forrest doesn’t like spicy food,” Sora interjects, trying to come to my rescue as her mom pushes little silver bowl after bowl my way.
Ms. Cho balks, shock filling her face like she’s a touch offended. “Kimchi isn’t spicy. Galbi Grill has the best banchan. Very mild.”
Sora groans. “She’s lying to you, Forrest. Run from kimchi.”
“It’s fine. I like spicy food, I just eat it sparingly,” I lie with conviction, reaching for exactly what she warned against. “I’d love to try it.” I take a generous bite, and immediately feel like I’ve swallowed molten lava. My eyes water, my sinuses clear instantly, and I’m fairly certain my tongue is filing for divorce from the rest of my body. For some stupid reason, I take another bite.
“Mmm,” I manage, giving a thumbs-up as tears stream down my face.
Ms. Cho looks impressed. “See? Good, right? Eat up, honey. We can order more.”
Sora looks horrified. “Are you dying?” she whispers.
