Page 35 of The Name Drop

I detect a fake confidence in her voice. I know that sound, like when our house staff acts like they’re happy to do whatever we ask of them. Or when Dad’s business partners talk to him like they respect him for asking them to wipe his ass. She’s not sure she wants to do this. Or maybe she’s not sure that she can.

But Jessica’s voice has something else underlying it. Determination? Stubbornness? A need to prove herself? Maybe all of the above. Her back is ramrod straight and she’s lifted her chin a little bit too high to be natural. A practiced position.

Why this location is so important to her, I’m not sure. If this doesn’t work out, there are plenty of other places in the city we could secure. But it seems Jessica is gearing up for a fight and I’m not about to miss out on the show. “Alright then, Boss Lady,” I say, “let’s do this.” I wink at Jessica and she rolls her eyes. But the corner of her mouth twitches a tiny bit.

It should be fun to watch. I guess the High Line can wait a couple hours.

“Let me do the talking,” Jessica says. “Okay?”

We stand at the top of the steps outside the entrance of the library.

“What am I gonna say?” I ask.

She shakes her head, but her eyes are focused on the front door and whatever lies behind it. Her lips move ever so slightly but the rest of her is frozen on the spot.

“We gonna do this or are you gonna practice your speech the rest of the afternoon? Library closes at six.” I make a show of looking down and tapping my nonexistent watch. “That only gives you a little under seven hours to talk yourself into it.”

Jessica slowly turns her eyes to meet mine. And they’re murderous. Good, guess that fire inside her has been lit. I hold back my smile and instead reach to open the door. “After you,” I say, waving my arm for her to walk through.

“Jerk,” she says under her breath. “I was about to go in anyways...”

“Hello,” I say, approaching the woman at the information desk. “Is there someone we can talk to about hosting an event here?”

I feel Jessica’s eyes burning a hole into the back of my head. I know she asked me not to say anything, but at this rate, we’ll be here all day. I’m just gonna get us started. This is the one thing I can do, charm people into giving me what I want.

The woman sizes me up and I’m reminded of the way the lady at the airline counter also looked at me, as if reviewing me, as if judging me for my age, my race, my social status. As much as I want to wipe that expression off her face, tell her who I am, who my father is, what my family owns, I remind myself that I’m incognito this summer. And if everyone else in that intern cohort, including Jessica, can accomplish shit without having a pedigree and a Black Amex, then so can I.

“It would depend on how many people, the day of the event, and what kind of event we’re talking about. We don’t host after-school clubs or proms here,” she says, face blank, voice dripping with I-don’t-have-time-for-this. I narrow my eyes at her and clench my jaw. Heat rises from my neck to my cheeks. I can’t help it—I reach into my back pocket for my wallet. The contents within it are everything I need to prove who I am, how I’m better than she is, and how she needs to grovel for forgiveness for not bending over backward to accommodate me.

“Hello, my name is Yoo-Jin Lee and we’re here with Haneul Corporation.” Jessica steps in front of me and reaches her hand out to address the rude-as-fuck woman. There’s that tone and that chin raise again.

She leans back slightly to just cross over into my space, a warning for me to back off.

Fine. Go for it. Have fun.

I take a step away but keep my eyes lasered on the woman as I look over Jessica’s head.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asks Jessica.

“We don’t, but we’d like to speak to the person overseeing event space rental here. We have a very large-scale event that we’d like to discuss hosting at the library. It’s the perfect venue you see...”

“You can make an appointment through our contact form on our website.” She looks back at her computer as if she has no time or patience left for us. “We’re booked solid for the remainder of the summer...”

That’s it. I shift closer, trying to face the woman at the desk and protect Jessica from her rudeness. But Jessica’s faster than I am, blocking me and lifting her chin even higher toward the raised desk.

“So what you’re saying is that you’re the person I should be speaking to? Or are you prescreening me in some discriminatory way? Because I do believe I asked if there was someone I could speak to about hosting an event here and I don’t appreciate being dismissed.”

It’s no longer a fake voice. It’s no longer a practiced polite-but-firm voice. It’s a pissed-off voice. I sneak a peek at Jessica’s face and it has take-no-prisoners written all over it. If we weren’t locked in a battle to be taken seriously right now, I’d pull my phone out and snap a picture. Show her she doesn’t have to fake it—she’s had it in her all along.

“What I am saying is, you can make an inquiry through our contact form on the website and someone will get back to you, though we’re booked through the summer.”

Jessica’s shoulders drop, defeated. The fire in her eyes extinguished. She went to war with a seasoned librarian and lost. She turns around and walks toward the exit.

That’s it? That’s all the fight she’s got?

I take one last look at the lady at the desk who has already forgotten about us, chatting away on her phone. I grab a business card from the holder and follow Jessica out the door.

I was kinda hoping it would be easier than this. But if this morning’s to-do list is any indication, nothing is easy. Every single thing takes ten phone calls, followed up by two emails, cc’ing twenty other people. It’s days like today that I actually really respect my sister and my dad and the successes they’ve had in business. Though I doubt my dad has written his own emails even once in his life.

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