Chapter 129
Seoul, South Korea
Hotel’s World Cuisine Restaurant
Will sat at the bar with a laptop open in front of him, headphones on, head keeping time with the music playing in his ears, and fingers moving across the keyboard.
It was late, but he couldn’t sleep so he was tending to some business matters that had come up. The Board of Directors weren’t amused that their Chairman was in Seoul still, and they weren’t in the loop as to why that was. No new acquisitions had come from it, he was entertaining some actress, they presumed from the media reports, and yet there was nothing scandalous being reported.
Was he on vacation?
Having a complete nervous breakdown?
Was he doing something to jeopardize the company or their authority within it?
Needless to say, the Board of Directors of Rising Moon Technologies were getting nervous the longer their Chairman was away.
Thousands of emails were waiting for Will to get through; proposals from inventors, companies that were looking to partner with Rising Moon to develop tech, others were looking for funding, many requests for appointments and meetings where they could try to sell him on their proposal in person…
It never seemed to end, and Will hated that aspect of the business.
The waitress came over and set some plates of food down for him; Poutine, Chilaquiles, Naan bread, and matcha cake rolls. Once she replaced his glasses of shakerati and Vietnamese egg soda, she bowed then left him to eat in private as he apparently wanted.
When he brought a dripping bite of the poutine to his mouth, a hard smack on the back of the head knocked his headphones off.
“Ow!” Will complained, rubbing the back of his head.
“You snuck out!” Lula sneered, joining him. “Without security and with a Russian hit squad after you, and you want comfort food. Really?”
Will looked over and his argument eluded him when he saw her.
Lula wore an extremely short, red sequin, leg bearing wrap-blouse dress that was cut extremely low in the front, revealing more inside cleavage than was appropriate, and black spike high heels that made her six-inches taller. Instead of her hair being pulled back into a tight bun, it was in loose curls that were pulled over one shoulder, her lipstick matched the red of her dress, and smoky charcoal eyeshadow made her hazel-green eyes appear more amber and gold.
“Uh, hi?” Will offered with a goofy smile.
Lula rolled her eyes and took the seat next to him. “Do not leave the protection of your guards again,” she warned. “Why are you eating comfort food?” she asked, taking his fork from him and helped herself to the Naan bread. “Did something happen?”
Will shrugged. “Lots of emails to get through, a Board of Directors to overthrow, just the usual business stuff I’ve been neglecting since being here. I have the Board paranoid I’m plotting against them.”
“Are you?” she asked with her mouth full.
“Not that they know of,” he offered with a shrug, and she chuckled. “Why are you all dressed up?”
Lula eyed him; he wore novelty slippers, cartoon print pajama pants, and an oversized hoodie.
If he were dressed in anything else she would have been suspicious of him.
“I have date,” she said, as if it were obvious.
Will glared at her. “With who? How did you find a date while working? Is it some production assistant from set?” he demanded. “Don’t make me purchase the production house so I can fire everyone to make sure I get the right person,” he warned.
Lula smirked; she loved his jealous side, especially since it very rarely came out. “Would you honestly do that?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
“I have before,” he reminded her, his nostrils flaring in irritation.
“You are beyond sexy when jealous,” Lula purred, caressing her hand across his leg then teasingly rub the inside of his thigh, and Will fought to keep his eyes from rolling back.
Now Will understood.
He was the date she was dressed to impress, and she did not disappoint.
“William Lee?” a man asked, hurrying over to where they were, stealing their attention. “Damn, it is you! The guys are the office aren’t going to believe my luck.”
Lula eyed the man; he was American, businessman most likely with a Government contract that would give him limited access to the services at the hotel. Those types of contractors are D.O.D. (United States Department of Defense) related and require increased security.
The man was chubby, footfalls were heavy, balding on top and sweating; most likely jogging from the entryway to the bar was the most exercise the man had done in twenty-years. He wasn’t armed, that she knew without question because his wrinkled business suit was overly tight, showing every lump, bulge, and fold on his body.
“Calvin Henderson of Patra Defense Industries,” the man introduced, offering Will his hand.
Will looked from the man’s sweaty hand to Lula.
“Oh, you speak English, right?” Calvin asked, lowering his hand.
“I do,” Will said, speaking in English.
“Good!” Calvin beamed. “I’ve been trying to get an audience with you for months now. I reckon getting a meeting is near impossible with you, and your people aren’t very forth coming with helping with that.”
Lula continued to sit there, eying the man, her hand still rubbing Will’s thigh.
It wasn’t unusual for William Lee to be cornered by people with a business interest when he was in public. Lula had seen and dealt with many of them when in his protection detail. Usually Will just nodded or shook his head, promising them an appointment later that he might fulfill.
This time, Will wasn’t feeling generous.
In fact, he was irritated that he and Lula were being interrupted when she was caressing his thigh and painfully arousing him in public.
That was always the start of a promise of a sexually gratifying night.
“Is he in your inbox?” Lula asked in Tamil.
Will checked, searching through the folders for Patra Defense Industries.
“Apparently he speaks the truth,” he said in Tamil, finding the dozens of unread emails spanning months from the man. “What do you want, Calvin Henderson of Patra Defense Industries?” he asked in English. “You, I suspect, are here not by chance. You saw photos when trying to locate where you could get a hold of me, and here you are.”
Lula chuckled; she rather found his paranoid side sexy.
She had a hand in him developing that paranoia.
The man shifted uncomfortable.
Will was right.
“I do not like stalkers, even in the business sense,” Will informed him. “And I do not do business over dinner.”
Calvin put his hand up to stop him. “I completely understand, but I’m jetlagged so it isn’t dinner time for me, and I have no problem doing business over drinks. I’m more than certain my company has a rather lucrative business opportunity that we’d like to partner with Rising Moon Technologies on.”
Lula chuckled under her breath, brining Will’s glass of shakerati to her lips. “Only a fool would speak so brazenly,” she commented, speaking in Tamil so the interloper didn’t understand.
Will nodded his agreement.
Calvin looked over at Lula before his eyes moved over her appraisingly, his eyes lingering on her long, tones legs. He liked what he saw, and perhaps he was mistaken when they said South Korea wasn’t like other countries in the East and the companionship they could offer.
“Perhaps more than one business deal this evening can be conducted over drinks,” Calvin commented before licking his lips. “Older than I like, but she’ll do.”
Lula smirked when Will’s eyes narrowed and his fingers started clicking away on his laptop even faster than they were before.
Now the man had done it, and he’ll never see what’s coming.
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