Chaerin the loose change in the pocket of her khakis while staring out the solitary window at the Airport runways. Replaying the unexpected conversation she’d had with Sandara Park a few hours before, Chaerin tracked the lone set of red lights on the arriving aircraft as it descended through a sea of glittering stars in the inky sky.

“Dr. Lee,” Dara had begun as soon as Chaerin answered the phone, “I’ve decided to come to Shelburne tonight to take care of the arrangements for my…uh…Grace Park.”

“Tonight?”

“I want to get things settled. I was hoping you could help with that.” Park’s tone had been brisk and businesslike. And definite. The woman sounded as if she was used to calling the shots, and Chaerin hadn’t wanted another argument with her. Just the same, she bristled at the near command.

“Of course.” Chaerin had still been at the clinic, finishing up her billing and reviewing the financial statements for the last quarter. Her stomach churned with a mixture of fatigue, acid, and aggravation. Her part-time office assistant, Changwoo, had failed to file the last quarterly unemployment taxes and now Chaerin owed penalties. She was as annoyed with herself as she was with Changwoo since she should have been overseeing the accounts and financial paperwork, but not only didn’t she have time, she hated doing it. Growing up, she’d never had to worry about where money came from or where it went. If she needed something, all she had to do was write a check or use the credit card her father had presented her on her thirteenth birthday. Clothes, car, private school tuition. Vacations in the UK. Winter skiing in Vail. She hadn’t thought of herself as a spoiled rich kid, she was simply living the life she’d been born into. How could she know her experience was vastly different than that of the majority of people in the world? All her friends were of the same economic and social class. By the time she’d entered college she’d been aware of the great divide between the wealthy and the non, but not until she’d had the blinders ripped away one morning by a stranger did she really understand that privilege came at a price—a price often paid by others.

Annoyed at the plague of memories, Chaerin stalked toward the gate where Sandara Park’s flight was disembarking. She pictured Park as an icy blonde, haughty and unapproachable, like her mother and Seohyun and her brother’s wife Jia. She was typecasting and she knew it, but then, from what she’d experienced of Sandara Park so far, she definitely fit the mold of socialite.

A woman appeared out of nowhere, stopping a few feet in front of Chaerin and perusing her with an amused smile. In heels, she was almost Chaerin’s height, and expensively dressed in tapered chocolate brown pants and a rust-colored cashmere sweater that hugged her s. The reddish-brown top complemented her mid back-length chestnut hair. She was slender, with flawless skin that rarely if ever saw the sun. Her paleness, together with the faint smudges beneath her large, luminous eyes, gave her a fragile, vulnerable air.

“Dr. Lee?”

“Yes. Ms. Park?” Chaerin realized she’d been staring and hoped Park had not noticed. It wasn’t as if she didn’t see beautiful women every day. Well, perhaps not every day, but she had seen beautiful women in her life before, and still did. But she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been captured quite as quickly by the elegant arch of a brow or the seductive slant of a smile. And damn it, she was staring again.

Chaerin held out her hand. “Chaerin. Lee Chaerin.”

Dara laughed and took the offered hand—larger than hers, the palm was rough, but the grip surprisingly gentle. Lee Chaerin was not at all what she’d expected. On the phone, the doctor had been irascible and gruff, and Dara had pictured someone sharp-faced, hard-eyed, and humorless. Dara was no stranger to admiring glances, but she was very aware that the looks were for Durami. She hadn’t dated a woman who hadn’t been dating Durami Sam in…forever. Her choice, of course, and one she did not regret.

“Thank you for picking me up, but you needn’t have,” Dara said. “I could have taken a cab.”

Chaerin automatically reached for the carry-on Dara juggled along with a briefcase and suitbag. “Let me take those. You would never find a cab out here this time of night, and even if you did, no one would drive you the forty miles to Shelburne.”

Dara rankled at the suggestion she couldn’t manage on her own. “It’s been my experience that for enough money and a generous tip, you can find someone to do almost anything.”

“Yes, I imagine that’s true,” Chaerin said stiffly.

“I can carry my own bags, thank you,” Dara said, annoyed by the criticism apparent in Chaerin’s tone.

“It’s quite a hike out to the parking lot. No need for you to struggle.”

“Always so gallant, Dr. Lee?”

“Not so you’d notice.”

Despite her aggravation, Dara relinquished her grip on the luggage. She wasn’t going to let false pride stand in the way of good sense. Her headache had abated, but her stomach hadn’t weathered the flight quite as well. She was still a little shaky, she wasn’t going to be able to carry all her luggage, and there were no redcaps in sight. “I have another bag that I checked.”

“Planning to stay for a while?”

Dara wasn’t certain why everything Lee Chaerin said sounded like an accusation, as if she were being judged and found lacking. She’d had a hellacious day, her temper was none too steady under the best of circumstances, and she’d stopped accepting insults in silence the day she’d crawled out of Hyorin’s trailer. “Is there some reason I shouldn’t?”

“Not at all,” Chaerin said. “Baggage claim is this way.”

The overly bright, faintly grimy room held three luggage conveyors, two of which sat motionless.

Dara hurried to keep up. “Then what—”

“I doubt you’re going to find Shelburne very entertaining,” Chaerin said. “Certainly not what you’re used to.”

“Oh? What do you suppose I’m used to?”

“The flight you took came up from South Korea. Is that where you live?”

“Seoul,” Dara said. “Does that automatically make me incapable of enjoying a few quiet weeks in other country?”

“Not at all. Plenty of people come up here for a break. But they usually stay at trendy resorts or elegant B and Bs. Shelburne is hardly on the map.”

“Believe me, I’ve had my fill of hustle and bustle for a while. I just spent a month plane-hopping from one glitzy hotel to another.” Dara stopped herself from saying more—she didn’t ordinarily reveal details of her personal life, and Lee’s thorny disposition hardly inspired confidences.

“Who is Durami Sam?” Chaerin asked just as a loud whine followed by a piercing screech signaled the lurching start of a conveyor belt.