𝓒𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓐𝓼 𝓘𝓬𝓮 [𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖎𝖊]

1

Jennie Kim adjusted her four-hundred-dollar sunglasses, soothed her sleek, perfect chignon, and stepped aboard the powerboat beneath the bright Caribbean sun. It was early April, and after a long, cold, wet winter in New York City she should have been ready for the brilliant sunshine dancing off the greeny-blue waters. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mood to appreciate it. For one thing, she didn't want to be there. She had a six-week sabbatical from her job as a junior partner in the law firm of Roper, Hyde, Lee, and Fredericks, and she'd been looking forward to something a great deal different.

In two days' time, she'd be in the rain forests of Costa Rica with no makeup, no contact lenses, no high heels and no expectations to live up to. She's been so ready to shed her protective skin that this final task seemed like an enormous burden instead of the simple thing it was.

The Grand Cayman Islands were on her way to Central America. Sort of. And one extra day wouldn't make any difference, Walter Fredericks had told her. Besides, what red-blooded, single, twenty-seven years old female would object to spending even a short amount of time with People magazine's Sexiest Man of the Year, billionaire division? Kim Jongin was gorgeous, charming, and currently between wives and the law firm that represented the Kim Foundation needed some papers signed. This was perfect for everyone. Serendipity.

Jennie didn't exactly think so but kept her mouth shut. She'd learned diploma and tact in the last few years since Walter Fredericks had taken her under his wing.

She pulled out her iconic smoking spencer fitted jacket, put on the seven-hundred-dollar Classic Janis 105 pump high heels shoes she hadn't even blinked at buying—the shoes that hurt her feet, made her tower over some men and matched the Jacket and nothing else. When she first brought them home she'd emerged from her corporate daze long enough to look at the price tag and burst into tears.
What had happened to the idealistic young woman who was determined to spend her life helping people?
The rescuer, who spent her money on the oppressed, not on designer clothing?

Unfortunately, she knew the answer, and she didn't want to dwell on it. On her tightly controlled life, she'd learned to look forward rather than back. The shoes were beautiful and she told herself she deserved them. And she'd brought them to see Kim Jongin, as part of her protective armor.

They didn't make climbing down into the launch any easier, but she managed with a modicum of grace.
Jennie hated boats. She always gets seasick, she always felt vaguely trapped.
She could see the massive weight shape of Kim Jongin's yacht against the brilliant horizon; it looked more like a mansion than a boat, and maybe she could simply ignore the sea surrounding them and pretend they were in a fancy restaurant.
She was good at ignoring unpleasant facts—she'd learned the hard way that that was what you had to do to survive.

And her job should only take a few hours. She'd let Kim Jongin feed her, get her to sign the papers she'd brought with her in her slim leather briefcase, and once she'd arranged to have them couriered back to New York she'd be free. Only a matter of hours—she was silly to feel so edgy. It was far too beautiful a day to have this sense of impending doom. There could be no doom under the bright Caribbean sun.

Her tranquilizer was in her tiny purse. Jongin's crew had gotten her comfortably seated with a glass of iced tea in one hand. It was a simple enough matter to sneak one yellow pill out and take it.
She'd almost planned to leave them behind in New York—she didn't expect to need tranquilizers in the rain forest, but fortunately, she changed her mind at the last minute. The pill was going to take a few minutes to kick in, but she could get by on sheer determination until then.

Jennie had been on yachts before—Roper and company specialized in handling the legal concerns of myriad charitable foundations, and money was no object.
She'd gone from her job as a public defender to private law practice, And she had hope specializing in charitable foundations was still close enough to honorable work to assuage the remnants for her liberal conscience.