A mental image of her running away erupted in her head. Another of her manically cackling, half bent over.

“And this is to save my job?” Namjoo asked coming off rather bored.

Flummoxed, Jongin shook his head. “No, it has to do with nothing.”

“Then, no.” Namjoo turned him down fast. “If you’re done, I want you out.”

He straightened forcing her head to raise. Damn him.

“You owe me.” he reminded point and blank.

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” he was adamant. “I helped you put on a show. Now it’s your turn.”

“I never –” It hit her like a brick to the head. Yes, she had asked him a favor. When she’d gone to his office, sat, waited persistently for him.

It was Jongin’s turn to lift a brow, his head ever slightly in a way that said I told you so.

Pursing her lips admitting loss, “Would you like to share the purpose of this meet and greet?”

Leaning forward, he answered, “No.”

Namjoo snarled at his back when he swiveled away. “I would like all else to stay impersonal and professional then.”

Jongin raised a hand in silent agreement. Didn’t bother to take a look at what may perhaps be the most annoyed look on her face.

Great, now she was deviating from all other tasks.

How the hell was she supposed to prepare to meet a man’s parents? Namjoo had never met anyone’s parents but Munho’s.

What was she getting herself into?

◘⸞⸟⸞⸟⸞◘

If Namjoo was nerve wrecked, Jongin was even more. Out of all things he’d done in his entire lifetime, this was the dumbest.

Next up he’d have to concoct some sort of story that made entire sense about this affair. The dubious look Namjoo might give him was too predictable already. And to think he was supposed to be a smart guy.

The thousandth sigh slid out of his lips. Driving up to the tailor shop, Jongin parked, and climbed out of his MDX. Put on his best behavior he reminded himself. No bickering that might bring around a bad atmosphere. If the rich girl was grumpy this might not turn out in his favor. All should remain and stay simple today. It was merely a show and tell.

He could do this.

Jongin texted. He waited. The sun exuded more warmth than there was chill in the wind today. He hoped this was a good sign. After today he’d never spit a lie again, pray to God.

A hand pulled out of his pocket when the door opened and some kind of woman stepped out in a modest pale blue dress. In her hand a woven basket containing a combination of various fruits.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.” Jongin reached for the basket, opened the back door, set it on the backseat.

Tugging her purple cardigan around her Namjoo muttered something along the line of, “I don’t need your comment.”

“Sure.” He firmly smiled now opening the passenger door for her. “Get in, it’s cold. You should have worn your coat.”

Settling into the seat, Namjoo replied, “I’m sure your parents would be very impressed with it.”

Humored he closed the door and rounded the car. Once their seatbelts were on, he merged with traffic down the road. He thought he should’ve switched the radio on. A little background noise would help affix the uneasy air swarming them.

“You should at least say something,” Namjoo nitpicked. “Do I just go in, say, ‘Hi,’ and then walk back out? I took the time to dress up, I think I should at least know what you’re thinking.”

His mouth opened. His thoughts becoming more of a jumbled mess than expected. Clamping his lips shut he tried again to reassemble his thinking process more coherently.

“Well, I thought about it,” Jongin told. He could sense Namjoo side eyeing him pathetically. “I’ll just say we started dating. We’ll have dinner then leave. Easy as that.”

“Uh-huh.” Linking her arms now. “So, that’s it?”

“I might have forgotten to mention there will be other people.” Jongin nervously added squeamishly.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s my uncle, my brother, and his wife.”

A moment of silence. Then, “Why.”

Flabbergasted, he asked, “What do you mean, why? They’re my family.”

“I thought I just had to meet your parents. Don’t you think this is unfair?”

“Hey,” he retorted, “I met your fiancé, your uncle, and your parents. I think this makes us even.”

Another moment of silence. “Then will your fiancée be there?”

Flummoxed, Jongin loudly said, “I don’t have one!”

Namjoo’s mouth inched wider amused. Kind of laughing. “Don’t get so worked up.”

Noisily sighing again, he sped faster down the road. At last arriving at their destination, his house. For a few seconds, Namjoo stared without comment as if absorbing his yard, the structure incomparable to the three-story she’d spent majority of her life in.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he came up to her side, “but it’s no kingdom.”

Giving no reply, Namjoo snatched the basket from him and trudged up the granite path leading to the front storm door. As if they’d been watching, the door opened before she reached. Forced with urgency to hurry, Jongin half-jogged up to Namjoo in time.

“Jongin!” Nagyeom greeted. Excitedly and with more curiosity staring at Namjoo, at the blond hair.

“This is Namjoo,” Jongin introduced.

Remaining chipper, Nagyeom happily greeted, “Why, hello! It’s so nice to meet you. Come on in.” Noticing the basket, she said, “Let me get that.”

Upon entering Jongin noticed an immediate smell of fried foods, oriental mixed noodles, fish, and seafood. Cursing quietly in his mind that his mother had gone too far. At this rate she’d be expecting him to tie the knot a.s.a.p. Gone to the market early morning to cook up a feast for some fraud woman he’d lied about.

God, what was he doing?

His father immediately rose from the sectional on their right. His friendly voice boomed, “You’re here? Welcome. Come right in and make yourself comfortable.”

Hesitation erupted in his stance at the sight of Namjoo’s hair. Not traditional black. Not brown. Such attributes his parents pined for in a potential mate, what they’d call a ‘good girl’, because wild, uncontrollable girls got tattoos to rebel against their parents, did absurd things to their hair as acts of defiance.

His conservative parents did not lean toward such flexibilities.

The most excited was Sahyeon who immediately flew over from