Seoul Spankings Read Online Free Page B

him too many years he didn’t deserve. I peered out the window, watching the crowded, tiny streets whiz by. A sea of black-haired heads made me dizzy, and the buildings stretched halfway to the sky. When I’d protested Great-Aunt Matilda’s choice of Korea, I hadn’t expected such a modern country. I had seen a rerun or two of Mash and learned about the Korean War in junior high history class, but that was it. I’d had to look it up on a map. The tiny peninsula jutting into the ocean was not much bigger than my home state of Iowa. I couldn’t imagine an entire country as small as one-fiftieth of mine. I’d thought I would see people wearing pointed straw hats and dragging rickshaws through mud streets, perhaps filled with the starving, big-bellied children I saw on television fundraising campaigns.
    I’d grumbled to myself, asking why Great-Aunt Matilda couldn’t distribute her largesse in a more appealing manner. It was my first chance to travel abroad, and instead of France, she had to pick a country I knew nothing about. What language did people speak in Korea, anyway? My two years of high school French would have let me order a croissant or croque-monsieur, s’il vous plait and some café au lait to drink. I could capture joie de vivre eating bonbons while overlooking the Seine River. Instead, I had to come to a land that, according to online travelers’ sites, had achieved fame for spicy spoiled cabbage. I’d almost lost my lunch thinking about it.
    The car came to a stop, and the chauffeur popped out to my side and opened the door. Awed, I took in the enormous sign saying Seoul Arts Center and the various billboards. I hesitated on the sidewalk, unsure where to go, but the chauffeur bowed to me and re-entered the car. Hyunkyung emerged next, stately and without hesitation. She sent an assistant ahead and spoke to me, for the first time as if I were a companion instead of a puppy who had piddled on her best rug.
    “Miss Cha will place our orders. We are later than expected.” She paused, her gaze traveling up and down my body.
    I tingled all over, unsure of her meaning. Her words should have expressed displeasure at failing her schedule, but instead, the appreciative nod seemed to say the delay had been worth it. My cheeks grew warm, and I felt naked despite the dress more modest than anything I had worn in years. Instead of Little Orphan Annie, I was Grace Farrell in her floating yellow creation. And yet…and yet this strange, haughty woman seemed to undress me with her eyes. I backed away, flattered and unnerved at the same time. Greg had never looked at me that way, not even in the beginning.
    “We will not dine at the Shilla Hotel. Instead, we will eat here. Follow me, please.”
    She swept across the crosswalk, and the crowd parted to let her pass. I could almost see the red carpet spread underneath her feet. I tottered forward, gazing at the gray-blue mist over the mountains rising from the back of the center. A sparkling glass wall met the ground, while a much-older set of yellowing stone walls rose from behind. One large banner depicted unfamiliar letters across the background of a black-haired woman gripped by an anguished man.
    To our right, a green bus trundled to a stop next to a large sign. A swarm of waiting people clustered toward the opening door, just as Hyunkyung’s assistants had clustered around her. I pictured this country full of black-haired fish swimming toward flakes of food sprinkled on top of their water. Wallets waved, purses swung, and fists brandished what looked like credit cards. People occupied every seat on the bus, as well as the aisles, but they kept piling inside. By the time the bus groaned to a start minutes later, every single one of the would-be passengers was tucked inside. One girl even stood on the step she would use to get off the bus. I looked back at our limousine driving toward the parking garage, and I understood the perks of traveling with a wealthy