Photo by Oliver Sherwin on Unsplash
“Seok, just the man I’ve been looking for.”
I turn to find someone my size standing too close, but not unexpediently close in the crush of people at the exhibit opening. I just have a larger space than my Korean heritage would indicate around Americans, especially Americans with an open bar. “How can I help you?”
“You shack up with the artist, Xanadu, right?” The man extended a hand to me, “Eric.”
“We are flatmates.” I use the European term for roommates since Americans add sexual connotations to nearly everything they absorb into their culture including words. Bracing myself, I take his hand. Years working in political circles keep my politeness front and center when all I want to do is walk away. He pumps my hand like he is trying to find oil, and also applies more pressure than needed. A slight twist relieved the excess pressure on my hand.
“That is one way to call it, am I right?”
He nudged me. Actually nudged me.
“Anyway, I was wondering are they a girl or a boy?”
“Excuse me.” I drop the inflections I usually add to keep my accent minimal.
“You know, are they a spoon or a fork?” They supplied hand motions with the hand not holding a tumbler filled with brown liquid.
“I wouldn’t know. If you would excuse me.” I tried to move away.
Eric stepped closer. “Don’t be like that, do you know who I am?”
A breath escaped when I couldn’t. “Enlighten me.”
“Eric Kingster. My dad is Michael Kingster, one of the Manyard partners.” He leaned in and the stink on his breath indicated he hadn’t been drinking only the free champagne. “Now, I swing both ways. I just want to know to get my approach right. You guys are both artists so you got to have an open relationship, so … open up.”
“Mr. Kingster. Our relationship does not work that way, but Xanadu Georgladis and I do have an agreement not to allow people within our residence without the approval of the other.” I smiled like my mother taught me. “Let me assure you, that should such approval be requested I will immediately respond with dissent in your case.”
“Thanks, …” The too-handsome face froze and then scrunched ugly. “…wait.”
“Oh, Georgio is waving at me. Someone must be interested in one of my pieces.” Moving away while Eric worked out if I insulted him, which I hadn’t unless the man took ‘no’ as an insult, (I believe he was the type who would), I eased toward the gallery branch set aside for some of my pictures from May this year. My special American had insisted I get room for at least three photos in her exhibit, and once Georgio had seen my work he gave me room for fifteen. The man liked to make money, so I was flattered to know he thought my pictures could make money in art circles as well as in journalism. The added advantage as far as he was concern, my absorbing some of the gallery’s space meant Xanadu could show that much sooner, not needing to make as many things.
He wasn’t waving, of course. The art salesman would never need me. All of my pictures were fixed prices; they either sold or they didn’t. And Georgio assured me they would all sell before the end of the night. Or, more accurately, tomorrow after all the assistants showed up with their boss’ money.
On the other hand, Xanadu’s stained-glass piece contract fell through, with Georgio pocketing the earnest money after the investor had a bad week speculating, so that was back out for bid. Before the party opened, the bidding war had already doubled what the original contract had been.
“Nice turnout,” said someone behind me.
Not again. As I turned, I realized the person was talking in Korean. And I recognized the voice. “Brother!” I responded in the same language. “You were able to make it.” In his case, the close press in the crowd felt perfect. In his hand was the same mostly-filled glass of champagne matching my own levels. One doesn’t drink and work.
“Father sends his apologies. Something came up, but he did want you to know you have the full family support.”
“I appreciate that. And so does Xanadu.” I twitched my lips just enough to indicate full amusement. “As does our agent. He was surprised at the list of people we expected him to invite tonight, and I believe a bit shocked at how many accepted.”
“Anything for your American.”
I nod accepting the promise. The family had said the same thing when the middle brother had brought home Talora from his time in the mid-East. Seong-Min married traditionally, as expected of the eldest, granting the rest of us, especially me as the youngest, a lot of freedom. “While I have you, I was wondering if you could check something for me. I may have made a misstep.”
“Ji-ho, I doubt that my tiger brother. But how can I help?”
I pointed out the man I had escaped from, using less than flattering terms but still within the polite realm. Basically a native speaker would know how badly I thought of Eric Kingster’s character but a second generation would be unsure. I gave my oldest brother his name and relation to Xanadu’s present main source of income. Seong-Min pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a picture and sent a text to someone. Likely father’s and his assistant back at the embassy.
“You managed to bring a phone in,” I said while we waited, “I thought they were collecting all of those by the door.”
“Diplomatic immunity let me keep the phone. And being on the short list for Xanadu’s special friends and family prevented them from turning me away on principle.” My brother’s eyes twinkled; he loved it when he could use politeness against his political opponents. And everyone who wasn’t family, and a few who were, were political opponents. “Ah, so the man in question does indeed have the relationship he is claiming. He forgot to mention he is a child by the second wife. The first wife had money and her prenuptial set up for her children to get everything even if her husband remarry after death or divorce. Second and third wife, and the present mistress, and their children may get up to the gift tax limits thanks to a special rider added after the second wife had this gentleman.”
“That isn’t enough funds to get in the door, even with the Manyard association.”
“Ah, but he works for his father as an executive and usually gets sent to functions where alcohol is available but little in the way of business deals. His younger brothers by wife number three likely will get similar jobs once they are through high school. And all of them will be cut off and kicked out once the first wife and eldest brother has full control of the family purse strings.”
“Saying no to him likely will have little impact on the contract Xanadu has.”
“According to the profile, he has no say in family business matters at all. And the few times he tried to throw his weight around at a stockholder meeting, everyone went with the opposite option.”
I tip my flute toward my brother in a toast. “That was very fast and skillful work by Kuk.”
“We are in trade negations with the Manyard Associates.”
“Ah. I thank you for letting me benefit from your information.”
Seong-Min tapped a few quick lines to send off before turning off his phone and returning it to his pocket. “Now, my turn for a request.”
“My eldest brother, I am at your disposal.”
“Grandmother would like a visit.”
Since I started college, the matriarch’s health kept her limited to the family’s holdings in South Korea, not that she traveled much before then. “My visa doesn’t allow travel outside of school.”
“Your visa expired four days ago,” my brother said dryly.
I stood stiffly, my drink sloshing the sides of the glass. I had been so caught up in graduating, in job hunting and finding a living arrangement, in getting the exhibit opened. The last month and a half had been completely crazy. And before then I was escaping … I pulled my brain back from what happened in May. The pictures in the gallery were a sanitized, curated version of reality. I would need to share details with father at some point soon; dead bodies can circle back unexpectedly.
“We took care of it,” he assured me after he let the panic hang a moment.
What is family for if not to create emotional scars? I guess also to prevent similar scars from being inflicted by anyone else.
He touched the champagne flute to his lips before continuing. “A carrier from the embassy will deliver the paperwork to you on Sunday.”
“Thank you.”
“And Grandmother?”
“I…I just started a new job last week, I can’t—”
“Quit it. We will get you better.”
I bite back the growl in the back of my throat. I had worked years getting a job in international journalism on my own. “Of course, thank you.”
“Father said to pick up one of your pieces while I am here to display in his outer office, which would you recommend.”
I run the fifteen on display through my head, and drop the ones which have already sold. None of them would work. Embassies are about aid, succor, and politics, not revealing truth and uncovering the dark corners. “Let me arrange for one.”
“Father wished to buy one.”
“I have kept a few personal ones back. I would prefer my family and my nation have something worthy of their contemplation. Please.” Stepping back, I let a woman walk between us. “It will be ready for the carrier when they arrive Sunday.” It would take a miracle to get out of bed before noon tomorrow, but I would find a way and get it done.
“There you are,” said a voice behind me.
Not again, this time the words were French. I turn to find Georgio in his green velvet jacket behind me. I switch to French since they both were fluent in the language. “Ah, Georgio, may I introduce my brother, Ambassador Seok’s personal assistant? Mr. Seok, this is my agent, Georgio.”
“Yes, yes, wonderful to have you here,” the agent nodded to my brother. “Come with me, someone wants to buy everything.”
“Everything?” I stumbled behind him.
“Yes, they are training an AI for creating disaster scenes in movies and want all your before and after shots. They don’t require exclusivity like the displays, but they are offering $10 per picture no matter how grainy just so long as they have all the data and $100 for shots of structures, up to $1 million and I think we can get that to $2 million. You said you had tens of thousands of shots, right?”
Well, this conversation would be unpleasant for everyone. For a moment, I imagine what I could do with a quarter million dollars, the amount leftover after agent fees and taxes between here and Korea. Then I lit the check on fire in my mind and watched it blow away in ashes.
(1,893 words, first published 7/14/2024)
Capturing the Tiger and Dragon Series