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And he did. Just in time.

Chapter 37

Ididn’t see him at all for the rest of the day, but he sent me so many selfies, and messages that I just knew it would be pissing Minjae off, which made the whole thing funnier. They were all out and about in the city sightseeing, or just mucking about. It would all be uploaded to their social media later, but for now, I got to see it happen in real life.

We were sitting on a secret, so in some ways the time apart made it easier, because I didn’t know if I’d be capable of being sensible around him right now.

Jihoon was grumpy because the group had been invited to spend the night at the chateau of the French fashion designer who had designed some of the costumes for the tour. It wasn’t the kind of thing you could dip out of, but it didn’t stop him from sending me endless little updates about what they were doing, what they’d eaten, or how many peacocks the designer had on his estate – many, it transpired – and he tried to get a picture of every one, which meant my phone was constantly buzzing across the desk with pictures of iridescent, blue and green birds.

I loved every picture.

July 22nd

Today was the final day in Paris. From here we were moving on to Berlin.

There were no new updates on Hana, or anything else to do with whatever Monsieur Lallouche was doing, so I was resolved to not worry about it. I mean, I still did, but a little self-delusion was to be expected.

Becka was stressed out enough for the both of us, and I had opted to simply not tell my parents, because what would that do but worry the hell out of them? No. This wasn’t something I could control. I couldn’t march down to the French prosecutor’s office. I couldn’t make a decision about her extradition. I was a passenger and I’d spent so long being worried about her, or exposure, or any other number of things that frankly, I was at peace with letting this play out without my direct involvement.

Jihoon was at a photo shoot the entire first half of the day. He represented a luxury French jewellery brand – Maison Lumière – and he was the face of their new campaign. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I took myself into the city, determined to force some good memories out of Paris. Mr Yoon had to tolerate being my chaperone. I’d tried asking him if he wanted to go anywhere, but he made it very clear he was accompanying me for my safety, not my company. He stayed close enough that I knew he was there, but far enough away that I could pretend he wasn’t. I attempted the Louvre, but took one look at the queue and opted for something less crowded. Instead, I went for a walk. It was a beautiful summer day, and I was happy to allow myself to be charmed by the city of love. I bought myself a pastry and a coffee, which was far stronger than I was expecting, and found a bench to sit on and watch the city bustle past.

Predictably, I got lost on the way back to the hotel, nearly got run over by a motorbike before Mr Yoon dragged me out of the way, and a pigeon pooped on my bag.

But, ah, Paris.

Joon

Jagiya, I’m taking you on a date. Be ready downstairs at 8.

[Sent 3:00pm]

I read the message, and my heart skipped a beat. I grinned down at the screen, holding it to my chest as someone walked by before tapping out a reply.

Me

Can I get a hint?

Joon

Hmm. Don’t wear anything formal.

[Sent 3:02pm]

That was handy, considering I hadn’t brought anything more formal than a couple of nice tops, and a single cocktail dress – for the rare occasion we had formal functions. It didn’t, however, give me much of a hint for the rest of the date.

I agonised over my meagre choices, laying them out on my bed, only to find myself getting more frustrated by my lack of options, but when one was travelling around the world for months at a time, travelling light became a necessity. I’d switched out my wardrobe on the two occasions I’d gone back to Cumbria, switching between seasons, or just stuff I was sick of looking at.

In the end, I settled on a pair of my nicer jeans, a long-sleeved top, and the leather jacket Jihoon had insisted I get when he’d taken me shopping at Minsun’s shop all those years ago in Seoul.

At eight o’clock, I took myself downstairs, expecting to see Jihoon, but the lobby was almost empty. The concierge at the front desk spotted me, and walked over.

“Mademoiselle Kaiya?” he asked with a polite smile.

“Er, yes, that’s me,” I replied awkwardly.

“Follow me, please.”

He led me to the back of the lobby to a door marked ‘Private’. He pushed it open and ushered me into a quiet corridor, at the end of which was another door. It opened out into a parking lot. There was a black limousine waiting. My eyes widened. It wasn’t my first limo, but it had been several years. The driver – wearing an actual cap and gloves, like in a movie – stood quietly by the back door. He smiled as I approached, doffed his cap and opened the door. I slid onto the back seat, and as the door closed behind me, a hand reached for me.