Park Avenue, page 11
“Your office is really fucking small.” Suzy looked around, taking in the narrow window and Jia’s framed diplomas and the single picture of Jia with Nidhi and Elisa perched at the edge of her desk. “I thought you were important. Aren’t you a partner?”
“Junior partner,” Jia said softly. She’d noticed Ben Volker do this on more than one occasion. The more intense a situation became, the softer he would pitch his voice. Jia liked the danger of it. The suggestion of someone with absolute control. It forced people to listen. She crossed her arms. “The only file on my desk is yours. Your family’s situation is of utmost importance to our firm, and I hate to lose at anything. Those facts alone should tell you all you need to know about me. Not the size of my office.”
“So it’s not about the size, huh? It’s about the motion of the ocean.” Suzy laughed at her own bad joke.
Jia’s nostrils flared. “Suzy, what do—”
“Speaking of sex, Darius told me you talked yesterday.”
Jia took another long breath before responding. “We did speak, yes.”
“What did he tell you?”
Jia forced her stomach muscles to unclench and her knees to relax. Then she took one of the chairs positioned off to the side and situated it across from Suzy. She had to admit that Suzy’s attempt to unseat her—quite literally—was effective. Sitting across from her own desk was deeply strange.
What Suzy was trying to do was obvious. Jia was well-versed in the tactic. Suzy wanted to be in control of Jia. In control of the situation. Which meant that Suzy felt anything but in control.
Jia needed to be patient with her. Something was clearly bothering Suzy. Bothering her enough to draw unwanted attention their way. Suzy arriving at the firm without an appointment and making a rather obvious scene was precisely the opposite of keeping the low profile Minsoo had explicitly requested.
Suzy folded her hands beneath her chin and propped her elbows along the edge of Jia’s desk. “I’m waiting. What did Darius tell you?”
Jia shrugged. “He didn’t really tell me much. Most of it was information I already knew.”
“All right. What did he tell you that you didn’t already know?”
“Suzy,” Jia said. “What’s wrong?”
Suzy leaned back in the swivel chair. Her shoulder-length curls looked particularly wild, as if they had been left to air-dry after twenty minutes in a sauna. A stark contrast to Sora’s smooth and straight hair. Champagne-colored glitter had been pressed on her eyelids above strips of long false lashes. It could have looked cheap or dated or juvenile, but it had been done with skill. By the hand of an artist. Pains had been taken with Suzy’s appearance.
Elisa used to say she was most dangerous when she had the best makeup. As if she’d painted on armor, daring anyone to cross her.
Suzy cocked her head to one side. “He told you about the baby.”
“He told me about the baby.” Jia paused. “But I’m curious why I had to find out about it from him.”
“Because we aren’t telling many people. We don’t want my mom to find out. Not yet.”
“Why?”
She fluffed her hair. “We just got Umma to agree to fight, after trying for months without any success. If she finds out our dad is having another baby, we’re worried she’ll just turtle back into her shell and give up once and for all.”
“I see.” Jia nodded. “But I’m your attorney. So I’m still not sure why I had to find out from Darius.”
“That one is easy. I told him to tell you.”
Interesting. “Why?”
“That way neither Sora nor Marky could be mad at me for making sure you found out, which, by the way, I agree that you should have been told from the beginning. I said as much, but it’s not like either of them give a shit what I think.”
“Okay.” They weren’t even touching at the surface of why Suzy was here. There had to be more. “Is there anything else you’d like to—”
“Did he tell you about the slut banging my father and trying to steal our money?” Suzy shuddered, then pretended to gag.
Jia frowned at the word. Even though she understood why Suzy referred to her father’s lover that way, she’d always disliked hearing any woman call another woman a slut. It felt like they were perpetuating the patriarchy. After all, Seven Park wasn’t exactly a saint. “No,” she said. “He didn’t tell me much, other than to say she was a good deal younger than your father.”
“Did he tell you she’s a month younger than me and Sora? When she was a teenager, she was a fucking Abercrombie model.” Suzy laughed, the sound high-pitched and tight. “One of those half-dressed chicks who stood in the center of the mall, smelling like a vat of cheap perfume. Stupid peasant bitch.”
Jia didn’t have time for this pettiness. “Why are you here, Suzy? I’d like to help in whatever way I can.”
Suzy’s right knee bounced under the desk, causing her entire body to tremble. “Really I wanted to see if Darius had done what I asked him to do. I told you he was a good egg. You should just bone him. I know you want to.”
Jia said nothing. Despite Suzy’s defiant posture and wide-eyed glare, Jia was certain something had happened to make her feel deeply uncomfortable. Jia could either ignore her instincts and accept that Suzy was simply trying to get attention, or she could push the issue and force Suzy to say what had caused her to act out like this.
Jia had no small amount of experience with people like Suzy. In fact, it no longer surprised her how many people raised in circles of ultra-wealth behaved like this. As if they were rebellious teenagers trying to get a rise out of their parents. Teenagers had a bad reputation for a reason. Trying to draw out a reaction from someone by swearing like a sailor and doing or saying shocking things was annoying to deal with, at baseline. From a thirty-four-year-old woman who absolutely knew better?
Annoyed didn’t begin to describe how Jia felt about it.
A smart attorney would defuse the situation. Would do whatever it took to make sure Suzy Park left the office without ruffling any feathers, including her own.
Jia blinked. And knowingly chose chaos. “Suzy, what did Minsoo do to piss you off?”
A momentary flash of surprise crossed Suzy’s face. She recovered the next instant. “What are you talking about?” She straightened and pushed back into the chair, her hands spread along the length of the desk in a power pose. As if she was ready to fight.
Jia’s suspicions were correct. Pay dirt. “It’s the middle of the workday. Please help me help you. What did your brother do?”
“Besides be his normal Janice self?” Suzy’s lips thinned into a line. “Nothing.”
“What do you mean by ‘Janice’?”
“It’s what Sora and I always called any two-faced, backstabbing piece of shit who got in our way.”
“Like a two-headed Janus coin.”
“Right, Columbia.” Suzy laughed. “With the whole betrayer element thrown in for good measure. Like Judas, too. And among the three of us? Marky is the biggest Janice of all.”
“Okay. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She continued laughing as if she were deeply amused rather than deeply troubled. “But I did want to tell you to watch out. There are two things my brother excels at: anything to do with numbers and checking out when you most need him. My dad knows Marky is the weakest link, and he’s already digging into him. I bet he starts making promises he never intends to keep. Ripping more holes into the fabric of our lives and taking a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Along with a bunch of other lyrics from silly country songs.”
Jia listened intently. “Does your brother have designs on running the company one day?”
“He says no. But his eyes say yes.” Suzy cackled.
Jia closed her eyes. She wouldn’t let Suzy get under her skin. “So you’re saying you think your brother might possibly be conspiring with your father, potentially to undermine our investigation. Therefore, you’re worried we can’t trust him, correct?”
“Columbia, you really aren’t as dumb as your haircut would lead me to believe.”
“Suzy, please. What makes you think this? What did your brother do?”
With an unctuous grin, Suzy said, “Last week, when we met with you, none of us had talked to Seven for over six months. But then my father texted me late last night to say he spoke with Marky that afternoon. He said it was a very good conversation. He said they were able to work through some of their issues and have a productive discussion moving forward. He called it ‘healing.’” She pantomimed air quotes.
Jia took a moment to think. “Is it possible your father is lying?”
“Look, anything is possible. My father is practically pathological. But Marky hasn’t taken any of my phone calls all morning. And I called him five times. If it looks like a Janice, sounds like a Janice, and quacks like a Janice, it’s probably a fucking Janice.” Her knee resumed bouncing underneath the desk. “I would call Sora to talk about it, but … yeah. That wouldn’t go well.”
Jia refrained from closing her eyes again, though she desperately wanted a moment to count to ten. “Okay. Is there something you would like me to do?”
“You were there when we promised my mom we wouldn’t fight. Well, now I’m ready to fight. So I need you to fix it before that happens.” She looked at the ceiling. “I think I can stand it for maybe about a week or so before I light a match and burn my brother down. So … plenty of time.” She made a shooing motion. “Get to it.”
“Suzy, I’m not a therapist. Have you considered—”
“No therapy.” She glowered at Jia. “Talk to Marky. Tell him to watch his back. Actually, that’s not a good idea. Find out exactly what my father said to him. Remind him that we are supposed to be in this together. And that the first one to separate from the group in horror films is always the first one to die.”
Jia sighed. “Where is Minsoo right now?”
“In Munich. For work. He’ll be back in a few days, I think.”
“I’ll talk to him. No promises.”
“Good job, Columbia. In the meantime, stop jerking around and get back to work. It’s the middle of the day.” Suzy grinned, spun around in Jia’s chair, and then left in a breeze of stringy black fur and Santal 33.
Jia put her forehead on her desk and concentrated on breathing. Then she began to dream of becoming senior partner just one year from now. Of Whitman Volker’s potential share in the Park family’s fortune. A percentage of a billion dollars—even a small one—equated to millions and millions lining the coffers of her law firm’s vault.
This case might make her lose her mind. The least it could do was make her career.
OPIUM AND IDIOMS
T Minus 25 Days
Jia had a confession.
Unlike most people she knew, she loved long plane rides.
In fact, the longer, the better. Her flights of choice were overnight hauls. The ones that departed around midnight, when most of the passengers were already soft and bleary-eyed before the plane took off.
Ever since Jia was a child, her favorite thing about going to visit her relatives in Korea—the part of the journey she looked forward to the most—was the fifteen-hour jaunt between JFK and Seoul. It was a perfect time, to her. Before leaving, she would plan how many mystery books to take. How many crosswords she wanted to solve. She would put on the headphones attached to her silver Sony Discman, organize her favorite Mariah Carey, Janet Jackson, and Backstreet Boys CDs, arrange everything in her carry-on backpack, and delight in the hours she would get to spend alone with her favorite things. Uninterrupted. Unbothered.
Jia would wait with bated breath until the captain turned off the overhead lights. Bide her time, watching for the moment when everyone around her would fall into a restless sleep somewhere over the ocean.
Then she would turn on her reading light and while away the hours.
Maybe it was because Jia had two annoying brothers and no door on her bedroom (a long story), but this quiet time to herself, when no one else was awake to pester her or ask her questions, was more precious than gold. These long plane rides were probably the reason Jia became an avowed night owl. During college, she would select classes later in the afternoon so that she could stay up into the wee hours studying. Law school and work had changed all that, but Jia not-so-secretly yearned for those moments in her past when the night felt like it was all hers.
Some people called her an introvert. Jia liked to think it was more than that. To her, it was about balance. She could relish a noisy day spent with her friends in the heart of Central Park, children squealing around her, tourists pointing in the distance, and salami, basil, and fresh mozzarella sandwiches from Little Italy making a mess on her hands. The balance was the long bath that followed. The ritual of steaming bubbles and ice-cold Pellegrino garnished with lemon and mint. The crack of a fresh spine on a new book club selection. That delicious solitude of having nothing and no one to answer to, save time itself.
Jia couldn’t remember the last time she’d honored this beloved ritual, and she suspected she wouldn’t get many chances in her near future, especially with clients as demanding as the Park family.
So when she chose her flight from JFK to Heathrow instead of directly into Scotland, she chose it because it was an overnight. Besides that, Nidhi told her the high-speed train from London to Edinburgh took around four hours and offered breathtaking views of the English countryside.
Naturally, Nidhi shared that fact the second before inviting herself along for the journey. After several years of being unable to travel, she was ready to “get out of Dodge.” Plus, she hadn’t seen her family in Hounslow in a long time. She figured it was a great opportunity to “kill two birds with one stone.”
That was the moment Jia put a moratorium on idioms for the duration of the trip. After making sure to warn Nidhi not to intrude on her sacred flying space. Thankfully, Nidhi had disappeared behind the screen separating their business-class pods not long after the plane settled at cruising altitude.
Which left Jia to her thoughts … and hours’ worth of reading material in preparation for the coming interaction with Orlagh Campbell, the Park family’s private chef for the last ten years.
When Jia first informed Suzy of her intention to interview Orlagh at her home in Falkirk—a forty-minute car ride from Edinburgh—Suzy had offered her the use of the company’s G6 jet. Jia had politely declined. She knew the pitfalls of those kinds of luxuries. It was like the proverbial sound of breaking glass, an illusion forever shattered. The first time she’d flown business class to their firm’s West Coast offices five years ago, it was over for her. She could never go back. Especially for any flight longer than three hours. Gone were her fond remembrances of fifteen-hour journeys to Seoul smashed between a cold window and her snoring brother’s hot breath.
Never again. A seat that folded down into a bed? Actual plates and real silver cutlery? Food that didn’t look as if it had already been eaten and vomited back up?
Done, done, and done.
The realization that all it took was one trip to San Francisco for Jia to sneer down her nose at economy class made her feel like she’d sold her soul for a bag of beans. Like she was a mustache-twirling goon munching on ortolans for breakfast and slathering veal with foie gras for dessert.
When she’d confessed to feeling guilty about the whole thing—as if she’d caught some elitist bug and needed to be nursed back to sanity—Zain had teased her. Joked that he’d always known she was “one of those women” who couldn’t go backward in lifestyle. Then he’d proceeded to lament because now that Jia had a taste of the finer things, it was all she would ever want. Of course, he also made sure to thank himself for pushing her to go on the trip. As if he’d been a positive influence. The reason for such a golden opportunity, rather than Jia enjoying the fruits of her own success.
At the time, she’d laughed along with him.
But Jia should have seen the signs. The subtle way he put her down while making it seem as though he were lifting her up. It was an art, really. She hated how still, to this day, many of the things Zain had said to her in passing would sting in her memory. How she would look back and wonder what kind of stupid, insecure girl would fall for such a callous, beautiful man.
In therapy, Gail would tell Jia to let the words flow. To let them rinse off her skin as if she were taking a shower. Painful words always find a place to land, Gail would say. Be sure to send them down the drain before they dig their nails into you.
She wondered what painful words haunted Jenny Park. What untold offenses fed Seven in his quest to cut off the mother of his children from everything they’d built together. What jabs and strikes poked holes in Suzy and Sora’s relationship, putting any kind of resolution far out of reach.
It appeared everyone was haunted by the words they couldn’t wash away.
After Jia was sure Nidhi had gone to sleep, she spent the next two hours of the plane ride to London reading. She began by going through the large file given to her earlier today by the private investigators her firm had on retainer. Jia knew it was probably easier for her to work off something digital, but she’d always preferred paper to screens. Nothing was better than the smell of paper. A book of any kind, old or new. It was like a curl of smoke from an opium den, beckoning her inside, telling her to get lost forever.
Not that Jia had ever been in an opium den. But the novel she’d been reading the night before Ben Volker introduced her to the Park family was all about San Francisco’s Chinatown at the turn of the twentieth century. A time when opium and gangs ran the docks. This was why Jia loved stories so much. The right book could transport her to a different time and place. To a different world or mindset. The right story could transform her for a moment … or a lifetime.
Jia shook her head. She’d decided not to bring any leisure books on this trip for a reason.
With a decisive breath, she returned to the thick file on her lap. Within it were contents detailing the lives of all the staff members employed by the Park family, along with the preliminary findings from the forensic accountant. She’d made it halfway through pages containing the information on Seven and Jenny Park’s current financial situation—the accounts that were common knowledge, of course—when the screen separating her from the business class pod beside her began to slide down.
