Page 55 of Bind Me
Rafael, to his credit, simply nodded, once, with great respect. “Thank you for the feedback.”
Bea translated him in broken Hangul. Halmoni launched into another round.
“She says you seem strong, but since you’re young, you may not be wise.”
“I’m working on it,” Rafael said.
Bea translated again, lips twitching. “‘Men always are. Don’t learn too slowly, you’re responsible for my granddaughter now.’”
Halmoni huffed, apparently done, then turned toward the dessert table, already scanning for infractions. The twins squealed, grabbing a macaron in each hand and fleeing.
“She likes you,” Bea said, breaking out into a wide grin, tapping his arm.
His gaze dropped to her mouth. And then he kissed her temple, lips lingering longer than required, as though he were reminding himself to behave.
“That was her liking me?”
“She didn’t whack you with her cane,” Umma said, appearing at Bea’s side. “That’s approval.”
Papa joined them, clapping Rafael on the back. “If you can handle Halmoni, you’ll survive this family. Except your Auntie Linda’s dance moves after one cocktail.”
Auntie Linda shouted, “I heard that!”
Her parents turned to exchange quips with her auntie. Bea clung to the normalcy of her family’s repartee. Not long now before the wedding would be over. Then the world would move on to something else and they could go back to being just Rafael and Bea, notThe Billionaire Builder and The Scholarship Cinderella.
“I’ll be right back,” she murmured to Rafael. “Just going to the ladies’.”
She slipped away, out of their private area, smoothing her hands down her dress as she walked. The restroom off the function space was too close, too easy to get pulled back into conversation. She kept going toward reception instead, mind already running through the welcome toast she’d prepared.
And then she saw him. Oliver Fox stood near the elevator bank, speaking quietly to a man tapping onto his phone. Mid-fifties, blond hair cut close at the sides with silver threaded through it, a little broader at the waist than his earlier years, still undeniably handsome.
Oliver glanced up. His gaze caught on her for a second longer than a stranger’s would, his head tipping slightly, as if he were placing her.
Bea surprised herself by walking over. Up close, the skin at his temples and jaw was a fraction too taut. “Oliver Fox.”
“Beatriz Cruz.”
“You recognize me,” she said, suddenly self-conscious.
“Of course.” His tone was a little amused, since he was literally in the business of knowing things like this. “There aren’t many photos of you online, but that will probably change soon.”
Bea prayed he was exaggerating. She wrinkled her nose. “I hope not.” He still had his suitcase beside him. “Have you just arrived in the UR?”
“Yes. I’m only here for a week.” He grinned. “They let Canadians like us in now and then.”
She laughed, and it eased some of the tension in her body.
“This is my assistant, Blake,” he introduced.
Bea inclined her head politely. Blake returned the gesture. “I hope you have a wonderful time,” she said.
“I’m sure we will. You know, the UR fascinates us Canadians.” Oliver shrugged. “Honestly it fascinates everyone.”
“Is that why you’re here?” Bea gestured around. “Researching for your show?”
“You’ve watched my show?”
“I used to. A lot. I’m a fan. You were one of our favorite ways to procrastinate during exam season.”
