Mimi knew that before his grandfather died, Shun had told a teenaged Jin that he didn’t trust his own son. That he’d known the responsibility for the label would rest on Jin’s broad shoulders when he came of age.
Which Jin had regarded as an honor rather than a burden.
Because that’s who he was.
Oh, Jin, with the one button undone on his crisp dress shirt—never more, just enough to call her attention to the length of his throat. Lean and six feet tall, he was effortlessly sophisticated in his tailored shirt and trousers. For a man in the fashion trade, his own look was always understated and polished.
Mimi was sorry for all his turmoil. He didn’t deserve it.
“Plus,” Jin continued, “I have to consider my mom.”
“Does Mamabai know anything about the state of the company?” Aaron asked, using the nickname that he and Mimi used for Jin’s mother, Bai, who had been like a surrogate mother to them both after their own mother had died. While Wei barely acknowledged their existence, Bai had always made sure they knew how much she cared about them.
Bai and their mother, Delia, had been close friends. Mimi couldn’t confirm it, but she wouldn’t have been surprised if on her mother’s deathbed the two women had had conversations about Bai providing support after the inevitable.
“She doesn’t know a thing,” Jin said. “Since her divorce settlement ran out I’ve been giving her money out of my own pocket from what I draw as salary.”
“If the label folds…” Mimi began.
“Not only will I have to worry about how to support her, it will be a public embarrassment to her on top of all the humiliation my father caused with his behavior.”
Mimi hated to think of Mamabai enduring any more pain. Even after the divorce, Wei had been indiscriminate with his carousing. Showing up all over New York, and within the industry, with other women.
Bai had had to see her son’s marriage fail as well, with Helene unfaithful just as Jin’s father had been.
When the food arrived, Jin, Aaron and Mimi used chopsticks to dig into their piping hot containers of Japanese soup. As they slurped and chewed, the conversation turned to her interview.
“It seems as if Gunnar has informed the entire industry that I’m talentless and worthless.”
“I never liked Gunnar,” Jin said. “You were way too good for him.”
Mimi chomped noodles so that her reaction wouldn’t be transparent on her face. Why did Jin always have to say things like that? Things that made a girl, day after day, year after year, question if impossible things might be possible.
Mimi had recently broken up with her boyfriend of two years, well-known designer Gunnar Nilsson. He had also been her boss and, incensed that she had been the one to call things off, he’d made the work environment terrible for her with his constant badgering and criticisms until she couldn’t bear the antagonism any longer.
Yet making Mimi’s life miserable wasn’t enough for Gunnar. He’d gone on to find out what other companies she was applying to work for and then bad-mouthed her to them before she even interviewed.
“I think Francois Boucher met with me as a courtesy to you,” Mimi told Jin. “He told me he was sorry but that because Gunnar wasn’t able to give me a good recommendation he had stronger candidates to consider.”
Jin had been calling in favors all over the New York fashion world to try to help Mimi get a new job. But, so far, Gunnar had undercut every attempt. Apparently he was as ruthless in life as Wei was from his grave, simply wanting to control and ruin things out of spite.
“Did you meet with Kiki and Pietro?”
“Yup. Same thing. No one I’ve met with knows Gunnar and I dated so they assume his negative review of me is based on my work.”
“Did you show them your portfolio? They weren’t impressed?”
Mimi slowed a minute, appreciating that Jin never failed to tell her how talented she was.
He had become something of a professional mentor to her. Letting her use his tools and equipment anytime she wanted. Giving her important feedback on her own designs. Helping her find opportunities to further her career. Cheering her on. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him eat, stopping to rub his temples, which she knew was a sign of his stress.
She could never repay Jin for all he’d given her. Yet every night for the past thirteen years she went to sleep longing for what he hadn’t.
“What are you actually going to do?” Aaron asked Jin two days later as they went one-on-one at the public basketball court near his apartment. “Is there a way to contest Wei’s will?”
Jin swooped around Aaron’s left side as he tried to steal the ball. Aaron pivoted away to keep his dribble going. “I spoke with my lawyer about it. I would have to establish that he wasn’t of sound mind when he wrote it and that’s almost impossible to do after the fact.”
“You’d have some witnesses.”
“Being an infidel and a drunk doesn’t mean you can’t make decisions. My lawyer said I didn’t stand a chance.”
“So, what then?”
“I’m wracking my brain trying to figure it out.”
Aaron took a shot from midcourt and missed, Jin grabbing the ball on the rebound. He swerved left and right to avoid his friend’s vigorous attempts to get it back.
“Consider this for a minute,” Aaron said with a lunge. “Is there any way you could work something out with Helene to make it seem on paper like you were back together?”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Jin dodged Aaron’s attempt to steal the ball.
“Desperate measures.”
Helene was out of his life forever. He’d never speak to her again. Let alone involve her in something as important as his inheritance of LilyZ. To think, there was a time when he thought he’d always be with her.
When he’d first met Helene Carlson, she was working for an advertising agency with several clients in fashion. She introduced Jin to a New York party world he had never been a part of, preferring to keep his nose down and his mind on work and graduate school. Ironically, the same qualities she said she had liked about him.
With her swinging blond ponytail that was always in motion, Helene was fun and Jin got temporarily swept into her orbit of nightclubs and red carpets. Until the late-night revelries got to be all the same, and not worth the tired mornings. By then they were already married. Busy with the constant job of cleaning up the disasters his father had created, Jin couldn’t keep up with his wife’s social life. However, Helene wasn’t done with that lifestyle, and continued to stay out until all hours most nights of the week.
Word trickled back to Jin that Helene wasn’t spending her time away from him alone. When confronted, she claimed innocence but when photos of Helene with other men appeared on fashion gossip sites, Jin had had to face the truth. That time, she hadn’t denied the accusations. He’d ended their marriage certain he’d never trust anyone ever again.
Jin had had two people in his life show him how easy it was to betray marriage vows. His father and his wife. And both had managed to put a cherry on top. Wei with his will and Helene by having an affair with LilyZ’s lead designer, Javier Ferrer.
Aaron hustled Jin’s attempt at a basket. The ball tipped the rim but didn’t go through the net. Aaron was able to retrieve it on the bounce and regain possession.
It was a fair question Aaron had asked, but Jin couldn’t bear