OFTEN (BOOK 1)

Confused

HANNI

Minji went to get the car while I checked us out at reception. With one final glance around the lobby, I tried to download every memory of the trip. When I stepped outside I saw Minji standing near the valet. My heart felt like a wild drum beneath my ribs. I was still reeling. I realized she'd given me so many chances to tell her what I wanted, and I'd just been too unsure of whether we could ever make it work. Apparently, her spine was stronger than mine.

I'm falling for you.

My stomach twisted deliciously.

Mr. Gugliotti spotted Minji from the sidewalk and moved to her. They shook hands, seemed to exchange pleasantries. I wanted to walk up, join the discussion as a peer, but was worried that I wouldn't be able to contain what was presently happening to my heart, and my feelings for Minji would show all over my face.

Mr. Gugliotti looked up at me but didn't seem to recognize me out of context. He blinked back to Minji, nodding at something she said, and that lack of recognition made me hesitate even more. I wasn't someone to be noticed yet. The checkout paperwork, Minji's to-do list, and her briefcase were all in my hand. I hovered at the periphery: an intern.

Hanging back, I tried to enjoy the last few moments of ocean breeze. Minji's rich voice carried across the few feet separating us.

"Sounds like you all threw around some good ideas. I'm glad Hanni had the chance to go through the exercise."

Nodding, Mr. Gugliotti said, "Hanni is sharp. It went just fine."

"I'm sure we can telecon soon to start the process of handing it over."

Exercise? Start? Isn't that what I'd done? I had given Gugliotti papers from legal to sign and FedEx back.

"Sounds good. I'll have Annie call to set something up. I'd like to go over the terms with you. I wasn't comfortable signing them quite yet."

"Of course you weren't."

My heart sped up as the spiral of panic and humiliation rose in my veins. It was as if the meeting that took place had been a mere performance for my benefit and the real work would happen between these two, back in the real world.

Was this entire conference one giant fantasy? I felt ridiculous, remembering the details I'd shared with Minji. How proud I'd been to have crossed this off her list and taken care of it so she could get better.

"Niki mentioned that Hanni's got a Miller scholarship. That's fantastic. Is she staying on at Kim Media after she finishes?" Gugliotti asked.

"Not sure yet. She's a great kid. Definitely needs some seasoning, though."

I lost my breath in a rush, as if it'd been pulled out by a vacuum. Minji had to be kidding. I knew, without Marco having to tell me (and he had, countless times), that I could have my pick of jobs when I finished. I'd worked at Kim Media for years, working my ass off to both do my job and get a graduate degree. I knew some of the accounts better than the people managing them. Minji knew this.

Gugliotti chuckled. "Seasoning or no, I'd snatch her up in a beat. She held her own in there, Minji."

"Of course she did," Minji said. "Who do you think trained her? The meeting with you was a great way for her to get her feet wet, so I appreciate it. No doubt she'll be just fine wherever she ends up. When she's ready."

She sounded nothing like either Minji Kim I knew. This wasn't the lover I'd just left a moment ago, grateful to and proud of me for capably stepping in for her. And this wasn't even the begrudgingly parsing out praise. This was someone else entirely. Someone who called me "kid" and acted like she'd done me a favor.

I felt my face flame with anger and I stumbled back into the hotel lobby, suddenly feeling like there wasn't enough oxygen, anywhere.

Seasoning? I did fine? She'd been my mentor? In what universe?

I stared at the shoes of people moving in front of me as they came and left through the revolving lobby doors. Why did it feel like my stomach had dropped out, leaving nothing but a hole filled with acid?

I'd been in the business world long enough to know how it works. The people at the top don't get there by sharing credit. They get there through big promises, big claims, and bigger egos.

In my first six months at Kim Media, I brought in a sixty-million-dollar marketing account.

I managed the hundred-million-dollar L'Oréal skin portfolio.

I designed the latest campaign for Nike.

I made a country bumpkin into a business shark.

I had always felt like she praised me against her will, and there had been something satisfying about proving her wrong, about exceeding her expectations almost to spite her. But now that we'd admitted our feelings had turned into something more, she wanted to rewrite history. She hadn't been a mentor to me; I hadn't needed her to be. She hadn't pushed me to succeed-if anything, before this trip, she'd stood in my way. She'd tried to get me to quit by being a bastard.

I'd fallen for her despite all of this, and now she was throwing me under the bus just to save face for missing a meeting.

My heart splintered into a thousand pieces.

"Hanni?"

I looked up and met her confused expression. "The car is ready. I thought we were meeting outside?"

I blinked, wiped my eye as if I had something in it, and not as if I was about to break down in the lobby.

"Right." I stood, collected my things, and looked up at her. "I forgot."

Of all of the lies I'd ever told her, this was the worst, because she saw it, and from the way her brows pulled together and she stepped closer, eyes anxious and searching, she had no idea why I felt like I needed to lie about something like that.

"You okay, baby?"

I blinked. I'd loved it when she'd called me that twenty minutes ago, but now it felt all wrong. "Just tired."

Again, she knew I was lying, but this time she didn't push it. She placed her hand on my lower back and led me out to the car.