The Yuchae Blossom Read online

  Table of Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  By Asher Quinn

  Visit Dreamspinner Press

  Copyright

  The Yuchae Blossom

  By Asher Quinn

  Can two men find happiness in a country that doesn’t accept their love?

  When Jack Calloway is transferred to his firm’s South Korean branch on Jeju Island, he’s assigned a valet, the beautiful but shy Song Woo-bin. He stirs feelings Jack has rarely experienced for another man, but everything seems to be against them—Jack is older and Song Woo-bin’s supervisor. He is just beginning to understand the new culture surrounding him even as he accepts his own desires for the first time, and Song Woo-bin is closeted, inexperienced, and estranged from his family. Their path to each other is full of obstacles and societal disapproval. Will the two men eventually come together amid the clash and complement of Eastern and Western culture… and find a home among the yuchae blossoms?

  To anyone and everyone who has ever loved with all their heart… 파이팅! Fighting!

  Heterosexuality is not normal, it’s just common.

  —Dorothy Parker

  One

  THE FLIGHT to Seoul was long, and he was tired and bored. This was his first visit to one of the Southeast Asian properties. Visit. Some prison sentences are shorter. One year for completion, then two to oversee the initial operation post–grand opening. He had said yes because he knew that it would secure him the executive director’s position for Chapel World Resorts’ Central American division when he returned home. This had been his territory as division manager until Yang Sun-ro died suddenly, leaving the Southeast Asian territory without a DM. Leila Beaumont—his boss, to whom he was devoted—asked him… dangled the carrot and he had accepted. Now he was headed to Jeju Island, South Korea, to oversee the completion of the Seawind Resort and Spa at Jungmun. And, there was Luke. His seven-year-old son. Jack had left him with his parents in southern New England for the duration. Sure he’d be able to return home for some holidays and maybe a month in the winter, and there was Skype, but… well… two or three years was a long time to be away from his boy.

  “Can I get you something to drink or maybe something to eat?”

  Jack looked up into the eyes of a male flight attendant standing over him. Nice smile, styled thick black hair, and gracious. He shook his head but said nothing. The way he eyed Jack and touched his arm unnerved him a bit. He looked at the screen of his business class cube’s entertainment system. They still had another four hours before landing. He decided he would try to sleep, so he reclined, put on headphones, selected classical music, and pulled down the window shade. The Korean Air flight had left San Francisco at 11:25 a.m. the previous day and he’d been awake for most of it, but eventually he slept.

  His bags apparently decided not to travel with him, and he was too tired to be exasperated. This wasn’t the first time he had to go a couple of days without his luggage. He had a change of silk boxers, undershirt, socks, and a fresh shirt in his carry-on—just in case. The baggage agent was apologetic, bowed slightly, and gave him a copy of his claim with a number to call with his hotel info for delivery. God, he wanted a shower and a bed. As he exited the customs area, it seemed like there were more car service drivers holding signs with names on them than passengers. He scanned them, looking for Calloway, his last name, but the only thing he saw that was close was Jackson, his first name. He approached the driver.

  “I’m Jackson Calloway. I’m with Chapel World…?” He nodded toward the sign.

  The driver bowed slightly. “Welcome, Mr. Calloway Jackson.”

  “Well, no… it’s actually Jackson Calloway,” Jack said, returning the bow.

  “Mianhabnida (I’m sorry), Mr. Jackson.” The driver smiled, bowed again, and motioned with his left arm toward the exit concourse.

  Not wanting to argue at this point, he returned the bow again and followed. The ride to the hotel was mercifully quick, but check-in would prove to be anything but. As he handed his passport to the front desk clerk, she bowed her head, then looked at it, looked at him, back at the passport, the computer screen in front of her, and then at him again.

  “I am sorry, Mr. Calloway? The reservation we are holding is for a Mr. Martin Jackson with Chapel Pharmaceutical. I think, possibly due to the similarity in names, there was a mix-up at the airport?”

  He turned his head slightly, eyeing the driver, who bowed again, smiling. Jack sighed and laughed a little. The man was like a sideshow act. “Do you have any rooms available?”

  She went back to her screen, and after many nervous taps, screen swipes, and lip-biting, her expression changed, and she grinned, eyes bright. She’s pretty. “We have one one-bedroom suite and one three-bedroom suite. Both with a small office and an exercise room with steam or dry sauna.” She looked at him expectantly.

  “I’ll take the one-bedroom. Thanks.” He nodded at the driver, who whooshed up with his carry-on, all nods and smiles. She motioned for a bellman, who came and stood at an appropriate distance, erect and expressionless. Reaching into the pocket of his suit jacket, it was early spring so he’d opted for a light gray suit, he looked at himself—ugh, he was a wrinkled mess. He handed the driver twenty-one thousand Korean won (the equivalent of twenty USD), and the driver smiled, bowed again several times, thanking him, and was gone.

  The desk clerk handed the bellman the key, and after thank-yous and bows all around, he picked up Jack’s carry-on and motioned toward the elevator. Jack thanked the desk clerk one more time, and she smiled, and bowed. As he was turning to go, he remembered his baggage. He handed the desk clerk the paperwork given to him. She said that she would contact the airline and that it would be delivered to his room. He thanked her, and she bowed again, as did he. South Koreans were nothing if not extremely polite. This was going to take some getting used to.

  The suite was more than just sufficient. Resort properties were his business, and he knew what to look for, and these rooms were tastefully appointed and very clean. Chilled small, beer-sized bottles of soju—the Korean equivalent of vodka, but not as strong—in the fridge along with plenty of water and what looked like freshly packaged kimchi with rice. Jack tossed his jacket on the bed, and while he was removing his tie, he reached for the soju but stopped. Alcohol was probably not a good idea, although it might help him sleep for a couple of hours. He opted for the water instead, deciding to stay awake and fight the jet lag. His cell phone was vibrating somewhere in his bag, and he rooted around, finding it. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Calloway?”

  “This is he.”

  “Hi. This is Melissa, Melissa Argent.”

  “Who?”

  “Sorry. I’m with Chapel/New York. I’ll be your admin for the duration of the project. I know your contact was Nora Rand, but she’s no longer with the company. I apologize for the mix-up. The driver at the airport had the wrong name—long boring story. Are you still at baggage claim? I’ll send a car to collect you. We have you at the Chapel Six property.”

  “Don’t bother. I’m at the Park Hyatt. My luggage apparently decided to stop over in Tokyo.”

  Silence.

  “Ms. Argent….”

  “Missy. Why are you at the P
ark Hyatt?”

  “Well, because that’s where the driver who was holding the only sign with one of my names on it—brought me.”

  “Ah. I’ll call and have it taken care of.”

  “Don’t bother, Ms. Argent. I’ll expense it.”

  “Missy. I wish you wouldn’t. I’ll just make a phone call—”

  Jack sighed. “Ms. Ar—Missy. I’m hungry and tired, so I’m going to order some food and sleep. Don’t bother, please.”

  “Well, if you’re fine there… I’ll have a car out front at 8:00 a.m. Three meetings tomorrow. Check your email. Most important, the 9:00 a.m. with Executive Director Lee Nam-geun. Just an FYI. He’s not happy about your replacing Yang Sun-ro. He wanted to promote his nephew.”

  “Great. Between you and me, I’m not happy about being transferred here either.”

  “I see. All right. Well, get some sleep. Flight out to Jeju at 10:00 p.m., following dinner with the three managing directors for Seawind development and the personnel hiring manager.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at eight.”

  “Tomorrow at eight.” She ended the call.

  He tossed the phone on the bed and thought about skyping Luke but then registered the time difference. It would be 1:00 a.m. back home. Tonight. Stripping, he tossed the rest of his clothes on the bed and then remembered that he had no luggage. Taking his suit, he hung it in the closet and made a mental note to call the desk about getting it dry-cleaned before morning—just in case. Gulping down half the bottle of water, he headed into the bathroom. He stood looking in the full-length mirror in the dressing area. His light brown hair was in need of a cut. He headed in to shower, and after, he planned to spend time preparing for his meeting with the executive director. Leila had told him that the South Koreans were very thorough and proud of their diligence in being prepared. And given that Lee Nam-geun was not too happy about his being there, he didn’t want to look like an idiot. Day one of his incarceration, and the warden disliked him already. Nice.

  Two

  THERE WAS a knock at the door. Jack had just come out of the bathroom. He looked at the clock on the nightstand—7:05 a.m. Pulling on the white terry bathrobe supplied by the hotel, he went to answer it. A bellman stood there holding a suit bag and another bag.

  Bow.

  Jack nodded. The bellman handed him both, and Jack thanked him.

  And bow.

  “Wait.” Jack went and pulled twenty thousand won out of his wallet and handed it to bellman, nodding. Although tipping was not customary in South Korea or Southeast Asia, it was common for Westerners to tip.

  Another slight bow, no eye contact. “Gamsahabnida (thank you).” And he was gone.

  Jack closed the door and placed both bags on the bed. He unzipped the suit bag. A light charcoal-gray, cotton/wool blend, two-button jacket and pants, with a brilliant white linen shirt and a deep violet tie. In the other bag were a pair of Joseph Cheaney black lace-up dress shoes, black socks, a conservative black belt, a silk T-shirt and boxers—white—and a note from Missy. He decided she was invaluable.

  —Mr. Calloway. Contacted your admin in Sao Paulo to get your sizes. Hope everything fits. You absolutely have to be in a clean suit. The Exec. Director would not understand. Oh, and eat something. It could be hours before any food is discussed or offered. Did you get the Korean cultural and etiquette briefing Chapel/Seoul supplied? Of course you did. You did, yes? Missy.—

  He had, in fact, gotten and read all the cultural material two days before his departure from the States and again on the flight over. Koreans were very traditional. He would have to temper his boorish Western behavior. Seriously? Sigh. Grabbing the suit—and good thing, he’d forgotten about his suit—he headed to the bathroom to dress.

  She wasn’t kidding. The car pulled up at eight sharp. The driver got out and, coming around to the passenger side, opened the back door for him and bowed. He nodded, choosing hierarchy to lessen his discomfort, and got in. There sat a striking young blonde woman dressed in what looked like Sarah Burton. Nice and very demure.

  Hand extended. “I’m Missy, Mr. Calloway.”

  “Nice to meet you, Missy.” He took her hand, grasping it firmly. The driver closed the door. “But”—as he let go and fastened his seat belt—“when in the presence of ‘the company,’ I will call you Ms. Argent, yes?”

  “Of course.” She smiled and gave him an appropriate once-over.

  The suit. “Thank you. Bags still aren’t here. I—”

  “Had the suit made yesterday. Couldn’t take the risk that it wouldn’t fit. Here.” She handed him a small wrapped box. The paper was conservatively colorful.

  He looked at her questioningly. Had the suit made?

  “Please tell me you read the cultural docs.”

  He still felt confused about what he was holding in his hand.

  “Oh…. God. We don’t have time for this.”

  “What? Don’t worry I know how to conduct myself. But what is this?”

  She smirked. She even did that with class. “It’s the gift for ED Lee.”

  His is eyes widened. “Right.” He shook his head slowly. “I completely forgot. I would have brought him something from San Francisco.”

  “That’s from New York. I grabbed it on my way to the airport. I… had a feeling.”

  Jack smiled at her. “Please continue to trust all of those feelings. I believe that they are going to save our collective asses.”

  She smiled. “Count on it.”

  They were quiet for a few blocks, downtown Seoul flashing by on either side.

  “You have a son, Lucas?”

  “Yes, Luke.” He was watching a couple saying goodbye in front of a huge modern building, the brand name in Korean. “He’s back in New England with my parents.”

  “Sony.”

  “What?” Jack turned to look at her.

  “That’s the headquarters for Sony, Seoul.”

  “Ah.” He thought of his wife. Couples always made him think of his wife. A lot of things reminded him of her. Nannie. It had been five years now.

  “We’re here.” The car pulled up in front of an impressive, tall, all-white building with the Chapel World Resorts brand, worded in both Korean and English.

  The driver had come around and opened the door. Jack placed the gift in his briefcase and stepped out, extending a hand to assist Missy. She was almost as tall as his six feet, two inches—heels counting for at least three and a half. A literal delegation met them as they entered through revolving doors.

  Moving like a pyramid, the group had a good-looking lean young man in a blue suit, full and neatly cut and styled jet-black hair, at its point. They stopped in that formation, and blue suit bowed and then extended his manicured right hand, left hand holding his right forearm. Customary. Jack did the same, without the bow, nodding.

  “I am the senior team leader of operations, Yang Jun-seo. Welcome.”

  “I’m Jackson Calloway. This is my assistant, Ms. Melissa Argent.”

  Missy nodded slightly.

  Jack removed his business card from his jacket pocket—where he’d placed it earlier—and handed it to Yang Jun-seo with both hands. He accepted it with a short bow and then offered his own, cupped in both hands. Jack accepted it. It is going to be a loooooong day.

  As they all headed for the elevators, Missy nudged him. Out of the corner of her mouth she whispered, “Nice.”

  Jack nodded slightly. “We have a ways to go yet.”

  It was four and a half hours before they finally met with Executive Director Lee Nam-geun. His office on the twenty-sixth floor was enormous and all windows. Wasn’t this meeting scheduled for 9:00 a.m.? The delegation remained behind in the conference room. Yang Jun-seo accompanied them. They spent another half hour in the waiting area until ED Lee Nam-geun’s admin ushered them in, moving to stand beside the executive director on his left, with one other rather intimidating gentleman standing to the ED’s right. Great. Another pyramid. And with Missy
on his left and Jun-seo on his right, they had their own pyramid. Wheeeee. It was beginning to feel like an episode of The Apprentice.

  Jack bowed almost to the waist first and extended his right hand with left in support, as was customary. The director followed suit, his bow less exaggerated, as was customary given his position of higher authority.

  “I am Executive Director Lee Nam-geun.”

  “I’m Division Manager Jackson Calloway. My assistant, Ms. Melissa Argent, and I believe you are acquainted with Senior Team Manager, Yang Jun-seo.”

  Missy nodded slightly again, all demureness and class, and Jun-seo bowed low.

  They exchanged business cards. And then there was a lengthy moment of awkward silence. Missy was side-glancing him with dagger eyes. Oh right. Shit! Jack opened his briefcase and removed the gift and offered it to the executive director with both hands. He received it graciously and offered his to Jack. Jack accepted it with moderate discomfort, bowing.

  The executive director motioned for them to sit in the large seating area in front of the windows that looked out at Seoul’s skyline, and when they were seated, his admin ran off to do something somewhere, and the big guy—security?—stood behind the director’s seat. It was Lee Nam-geun who spoke first.

  “Your reputation with the company is… impressive.”

  “Thank you, Executive Director, but I don’t compare to many who work very hard.”

  “Ne (yes).” Nodding.

  “You have done great work here in Seoul. The operation exceeds the other international branches.”

  “Ah. It is a joint effort, but our efforts pale in comparison to the accomplishments of the home office in San Francisco.”

  Jack resisted the urge to loosen his tie. “I am looking forward to overseeing the operation on Jeju. I heard it’s gotten off to a good start, yes?”

  “It is ahead of schedule. My nephew, Lee Yong-geun, is currently overseeing the operation there. When you arrive, he will assist you. It is only temporary, of course.”