Only Uni (29 page)

She wasn’t a hussy. Trish swallowed and looked away. It wasn’t her fault the old woman was deaf and couldn’t understand what was going on, on top of being crabbier than apples.

“Hurry, the K-drama is starting!”

The magic words made the women flock to the television set. Kazuo watched with his arched eyebrows furrowed. “K-drama?”

Trish followed in the wake of wheelchairs, walkers, and canes. She glanced back at Deborah, who pinched her mouth and turned her head away from the cattle call of bodies. A desert island, sitting by herself at the far end of the room. She didn’t even try to get up and walk to the TV set with everyone else. Surely she could read the subtitles?

A majorly cute Korean guy — maybe the actor on Clara’s keychain fobs — vowed his undying love to an incredibly beautiful Korean woman. In the next scene, an unsavory man brandishing a knife carjacked the hero. The thief was robbing him when the man tried to take the knife away, and he got stabbed!

It cut to commercial.

Wow. This was addictive.

Apparently Kazuo thought so, too. He glared at the set as if willing the commercial to end with his radioactive brain waves so the rest would play. “This K-drama is very good.” For him, “very good” meant absolutely riveting, surprising, and immensely wonderful.

Kazuo and Korean soap operas? Who’d a’ thunk?

“Oh, there he is.” Clara reached over from where she sat to grab Trish’s arm. “Meet my nephew.”

She motioned to an Asian man who stood in the doorway to the rec room. He strode across the room with power and arrogance in every step, and Trish hated him on sight. It reminded her of Kazuo’s demanding attitude when they’d been dating and he’d been in the midst of painting yet another “masterpiece.” They were all “masterpieces,” and she had gotten tired of being the focal possession in his collection.

She glanced at Kazuo, still staring at the TV. She hadn’t thought of him once while the K-drama had been on, whereas at any other time, she wouldn’t be able to make her brain stop dwelling on undwellable things. Should be a clue to her when a soap opera could distract her from a man.

She stepped away from the TV crowd as Clara’s nephew came closer. She crossed her arms over her chest as a shield when he had the nerve to peer down his long, straight nose at her. Or at least try to. Up close, he was only a couple inches taller than she was. She got a good view of his excessively oily forehead.

She put a hand up to her own face. Man, she was leaking oil like an old car. She needed to talk to her cousin who sold Mary Kay about what products she could use.

“I’m Lawrence.” He didn’t even attempt a smile.

“Trish.”

“You volunteer here at my aunt’s facility?” He cast his gaze, tinged with disdain, around the room.

“I just started.”

He looked at his watch.

“Nice meeting you.” She turned to walk back to the TV set. Oh, the commercials had ended. Good.

“Oh, wait, that’s right.” He pointed a bobbing finger at her. “Aunt Clara said you work for a pharmaceutical company?”

“Valley Pharmaceuticals.” Over his shoulder, the TV distracted her. The soap opera’s villainess, Eun-kee, looked upset. Oh, the man she secretly loved, but who suffered from unrequited love to another girl, had walked into the room. Uh-oh.

“Ah.” Lawrence erupted into million-dollar smiles. “How’s that going?”

She trusted him as much as that Korean guy trusted that chick. “Uh . . . okay.” What was Eun-kee saying? Trish was too far away to see the subtitles. Looked like she was cussing him out.

“What department are you in?”

“Osteoporosis.” The hot Korean guy was backing away from Eun-kee now. “Cell culture research.”

“So . . .” Lawrence leaned in closer. “What are you working on?”

Trish’s “potential skunk” meter fired, and she snapped back to attention. “I can’t disclose that, it’s proprietary information.” Her voice came out hard and sharp. Hopefully she pricked him enough that he wouldn’t keep going down this line of questions.

He had alligator skin. “Aw, come on. Just a hint. I won’t tell anyone.”

Suuuure. Just his stock broker. “Do you need a dictionary?”

“Huh?”

“You obviously don’t know the meaning of the word
proprietary
.”

His smile and his half-lidded eyes screamed condescension even before he unwisely opened his mouth. “Now, Tina — ”

“Trish.”

“ — let me explain how companies
really
work . . .”

She already knew he had absolutely nothing meaningful to add to the conversation — such as it was — so she turned her eyes back to the TV. Eun-kee and the man were struggling. When did that happen? The villainess seemed to be wanting to embrace him. Uh oh, what was he going to do?

“ . . . so you see, only that little date on the patent really means anything . . .”

Eun-kee had something in her hand. Where did she pull that from? She had on the filmiest dress, it barely covered her —

Bang!
The sound resonated through the rec room. The women in front of the TV jumped in their seats. What happened? Trish squinted at the screen, but she wasn’t close enough to clearly see . . . Wait a minute.

“ . . . and really, when you think about it — ”

“Oh my goodness, she shot him!”

It took a second for her to realize she’d shouted her thoughts out loud, and that she’d interrupted Lawrence, and that it was obvious she hadn’t been listening to him, and that he was looking at her like a particularly nasty fungi under the microscope.

He sniffed through his long nose — and so straight! It made Trish want to break it for him, except that was rather violent and it was usually Lex who was violent, not Trish — and puffed out his chest so she could see the lack of muscles under his polo shirt.

She smiled. “Nice meeting you, Lawrence.” She hustled back to the TV.

Rats, it was commercials. “What did I miss?”

The ladies were more than happy to enlighten her. “She shot him in the shoulder.”

“I thought it was the heart.”

“No, that might be fatal. It has to be the shoulder because they can’t cut his character.”

“Maybe they’ll draw out his death over a few weeks.”

Clara touched her hand. “How did you like my nephew?”

Trish shook her head and sighed melodramatically. “He doesn’t appreciate K-dramas.” She infused as much disappointment and disdain as she could into her tone.

The women gasped as if she’d said he was an ax-murderer.

Clara laid a hand over her heart. “I would never have insisted he meet you if I had known.”

“Your friend certainly likes K-dramas.” Sumiyo pointed toward Kazuo, talking animatedly with another lady about the show. A sly smile. “He’d make a good husband. No fighting over the remote control.”

Oh brother. Hmm, wonder if Grandma had asked them all to plead Kazuo’s case for him? It wasn’t entirely unlikely. “We don’t suit.” She tried to look happy about it.

Kazuo appeared as if summoned. “I must ask you something.”

It silenced all the chattering women in a heartbeat. They turned bright, expectant eyes on the two of them, who were conspicuously standing on the fringes of the TV-watching group.

Oh, no.

“I need you back in my life. You are my muse, my creativity. How can I show you that I am nothing without you?”

Coming off of Lawrence’s arrogance, Trish had an easier time resisting Kazuo. “You’ll find someone else — ”

“I heard you are in need of housing again.”

Well, she had told Mom. Of course Grandma would find out, and she apparently did a lot of talking to Kazuo. “I’m fine. I’m in temporary housing, and I’ll find something — ”

“Since you refuse to live with me, I will leave my apartment.”

“But your parents pay for your apartment.” And pretty steeply, too.

“I will leave so you can live there. I need you. Come back to me.” He grabbed her and kissed her.

Kazuo kissed perfectly. His firm lips were urgent but not brutal, his hands clasped her waist with the force that said, “I need you,” but not too hard, the heavenly scent surrounded her . . .

“Trish!”

The voice screeched through the stars she was seeing and sent her crashing to earth. She managed to yank herself away from him and turned.

Lex stood in the doorway, hands on hips, fire coming out of her nostrils. Well, not really, but she was certainly mad enough.

“I promise, it’s not what it looks like — ”

“It is what it looks like.” Kazuo tried to embrace her again. She shoved him away.

“It looks like you’re kissing him back pretty good there, Trish.” Lex’s gaze skewered her.

“No,
he
jumped
me
, I promise — ”

“Oh, it was so romantic.” Clara beamed at them.

“It was not romantic!” The blood rushed to her head and pulsed so hard, she felt like her hair stood on end. “It was awful!”

“Didn’t look too awful from here.” Lex leaned on one leg and crossed her arms.

“I don’t need temptation like that. You saved me from temptation. I really needed you.” She was grasping at straws, but Lex’s shoulders relaxed, even though her look screamed,
You are an idiot.

“Well, here I am. Let’s go.” Lex turned to leave.

“Uh . . .”

“What?” She clinked her keys. “Are you seriously telling me you want to stay?”

“Stay with me.” Kazuo reached out his arm, but Trish slapped his hands away.

“Can I, uh . . . finish watching the K-drama?”

TWENTY-THREE

I
thought I was going to die.” Trish tossed the remnants of their Chinese dinner — homemade from Jenn’s magic wok — into her dingy kitchen’s temporary trash can, a paper bag from Albertson’s. “Not just the kiss, but his declaration. The ladies acted like it was a marriage proposal.”

“Well, that’s pretty big coming from Kazuo, right?” Jenn’s voice was muffled as she talked into her chest (as usual). She scrubbed at their chopsticks in the sink.

“That wasn’t big. He was trying to break down your defenses.” Venus scraped the last of the leftovers into a Tupperware container.

It was seriously raining on her venting session that Venus had happened to be at Jenn’s house when she called to invite her here for dinner (well, actually she called to beg Jenn to cook for her because she couldn’t stomach another night of fast food). Not that she didn’t love Venus, but while Jenn would commiserate, Venus would tell it like it is. Trish was not in the mood for realism.

“When we left, it was pretty anticlimactic. Actually, all Kazuo talked about was the cliffhanger at the end of the K-drama.”

Jenn started laughing.

“Jeeeeeennnn.”

“I can’t help it,” she wheezed. “Maybe you can bribe him away with a K-drama cruise.” She giggled.

Trish leaned against the counter. “Lex hated the K-drama. She kept whispering that she thought we should leave while he was preoccupied.”

Jenn hooted. Even Venus gave a shout of laughter.

“Laugh it up. You’re not the ones staying in a dump.”

“How’s apartment hunting?”

“I can’t find a thing. I don’t understand it. I can’t stay here any longer.”

“At least the smell is gone.”

“I had to borrow an industrial-strength coverall from the clean-room at work, then I swept out the living room and left the windows open for a few days.”

“How about the bathroom?” Venus peered at the closed door.

“Oh, uh . . .” Trish swallowed. “I try not to use the toilet, and I don’t look at the ceiling. I’ve been showering at work.”

“You poor thing. Sounds stressful.” Jenn’s voice oozed warm fuzz-ies that wrapped around Trish and gave a sympathetic hug.

“Oh, come on,” Venus said. “It’s like camping.”

Trish lifted an eyebrow. “This from the woman who thinks staying at a 3-star hotel is ‘roughing it’?”

“I can’t go anywhere that doesn’t have wireless Internet and a pool.” Venus pouted.

“At least a forest smells better.” Trish paused, then gave the news that weighed on her heart. “Grandma called tonight.”

Both her cousins sobered.

“She offered that apartment again. Rent-free, if I’d get back with Kazuo.” She chewed her lip. She hadn’t exactly told Grandma no, but she hadn’t said yes, either.

“Don’t do it.” Venus was firm.

“God will provide housing for you,” Jenn declared. “Don’t let Grandma tempt you to do something God wouldn’t want from you.”

“She said, ‘Kazuo’s a wonderful man, and you don’t want to be the next oldest single female cousin when Lex marries.’ ”

Venus chortled. “You should tell Lex what she said.”

“Are you kidding? If Lex had been here, she’d probably have started a fight with Grandma.”

Venus snorted. “If Lex weren’t Christian, she’d live with Aiden and never marry him just to give Grandma grief.”

“You’re so mean to Grandma.” Jenn spoke with the firmness of an old argument. “She only wants a large family.”

“She wants to
control
her large family.” Venus’s look was dry.

Trish couldn’t really argue with that. She was one of the last people who’d want to upset Grandma, but even she knew Grandma had a thing about micromanaging. Lives, in particular. “I just feel so guilty. Grandma’s never been mad at me like this before.”