The Fortune Cookie
“I mean no disrespect, like none, but come the f**k on. Why can’t you call him?”
The petite woman behind the desk shimmies her chair away from the crazy American as she most likely reaches for her hidden can of mace.
After flying thirteen-odd hours to get here, I don’t want to f**k around. I want to see Mr. Yeong, talk some sense into him, have some sake, and then go back home. Mary’s sweet kisses still linger as she dropped me off at the airport yesterday morning, promising to welcome me home in nothing but heels. But Mr. Yeong’s secretary is being a complete mood killer, because no one seems to know when Mr. Yeong will be back in town.
I suppose this is my fault for up and leaving without a solid plan, but this guy is a workaholic. It’s smart business. That’s why h
