I’m no bodyguard. I don’t have the build for it, and I doubt the black blazer and sunglasses will fool anyone into believing that I’m one either. Yet, here I am, blocking Jang Woo’s behind from rabid fans as we stroll through Savannah International Airport all because my boss underestimated the popularity of the Korean drama star.
The one bodyguard I brought with me is pushing through the crowd like a plow turning up soil. This guy does have the build for the job, but he’s being kind of rude to the fans and I get the feeling this might be his first time protecting a celebrity. His voice sounds nervous as he speaks into the clip on his shoulder to make sure the driver is out front.
The bodyguard opens the back passenger door of the sedan limo and helps Mr. Jang inside. He takes the front seat for himself, leaving me to scramble around to the traffic side. I jump in and immediately feel something jerk from beneath my leg.
I turn to stare at the actor, and he stares back with his hand over his mouth and those dark brown eyes stretched as wide as they will go. Did I really just sit on Jang Woo’s hand? Yes, I did.
His hand drops to his lap and he’s quietly laughing. “Sorry. I tried to help.” He motions with his hand. “The door.”
Is he blushing? Between the makeup and the car’s dark interior, it’s hard to tell.
Meanwhile, I know my cheeks are blazing and I’m tempted to take up residence at the airport for a few weeks—at least until right before time for him to return to Korea so there’ll be zero chance of him seeing my face again.
“Ms. Makenna, could you please shut your door?”
“Of course.” I try to regain my composure by reminding myself that I am a professional. This is not my first interaction with a famous person. If I act like it was nothing, he probably will too. But when I look back at him, there’s still embarrassed laughter on his lips. He looks at me, turns away, and then comes back for another shy look.
My best option is to ignore the humor of the situation and move forward. I bow as best I can while strapped in by a seatbelt, take a deep breath, and put forth my best efforts at speaking to him in Korean.
“Mr. Jang, welcome to the United States. I am Makenna Abbott, assistant manager at Camp Greenwood Resort. I do speak Korean, but not proficiently. If I make a mistake, please gently correct me.”
Koreans have a different way of speaking depending on the rank of the one being spoken to. I can speak the language enough to be understood, but there’s always a chance of offending.
“Very good.” He places his hand on his chest. “I am Jang Hyun-woo. I want to speak English better. Please kindly correct me.”
It’s not until I hear him say his name that I realize the H in Hyun-woo is silent.
Questions fly rapid-fire through my head. Does he really want to be called Jang Hyun-woo when the rest of the world knows him by the stage name of Jang Woo? Why did he request a translator if he plans to speak English? And how am I supposed to kindly correct one of our renowned guests?
“You prefer speaking English while you’re here?”
“Yes, please. I am preparing for a role.”
“I see.”
“How do you speak Korean?”
“When my son was a teenager, he made friends with a group of Koreans playing games online. He wanted to learn, so we learned at the same time.”
His brows draw together, and I wonder which English words he missed.
“How old is your son now?”
“Ranger is twenty. He’s an artist who now lives in South Korea and works with those same friends designing characters for online games.”
“Twenty?” He studies my face.
I brace myself for the questions that usually follow. How old are you? Or the one more tempting to a curious mind, how old were you when you had him?
“That’s young to move so far from his eomma.”
I smile at his use of the word eomma. Ranger switched from calling me Mom to Eomma as soon as he learned the word. He only uses Mom when he’s frustrated with me and sometimes it’s Mommy when he’s being playful.
“His eomma agrees but what can I do? He’s a grown man. But I also think moving was the right choice for him. He’s happy there and he’s doing what he loves.” I shrug as if it’s no big deal even though I’m still not over him leaving four months ago.
“What about his dad?”
How did we delve into my personal life so quickly? Or at all? I usually keep things professional when talking to clients and most celebrities aren’t interested to begin with.
“He died twelve years ago.”
“Ah.” Mr. Jang nods his head but thankfully doesn’t ask any more questions.
Instead, he focuses on the scenery passing by and some of my tension slips away. I’m not ashamed to say I have a son or that I’m a widow, but losing my husband had been painful in more ways than one and there’s no need to talk about it with this stranger.
We cross the Georgia border into South Carolina, and I slip my phone from my pocket to text the front desk that we will be there in about half an hour. The next five minutes are spent watching the ocean peek through here and there as I make a mental list of everything still left to do.
Patrons usually arrive on Sunday and stay for one week. Then they either move on to the next destination or they go home. Mr. Jang booked a two-week stay. He will be the only guest tonight, which means he will require more of my attention.
“Beautiful.”
I look up to see what has caught his attention and he’s pointing at the shoreline in the distance. “I agree. I’ve been looking at the Atlantic all my life and have never grown tired of the sight.”
He looks at me then. “You never lived somewhere… um, not here?”
“Have I never lived somewhere else? No. This has always been my home.”
“You never want to move away?”
I hesitate for a moment only because Ranger has been begging me to move to Korea and here no longer feels like home without him.
Mr. Jang smiles and shakes his finger at me. “Ah, you maybe want the adventure of another place. I know.”
I can’t help but smile. “Not at all. I wouldn’t mind visiting somewhere else, but I’m not sure I’d want to move.”
My late husband and I talked a lot about traveling, but we never did. I’m not sure now whether that had really been my dream or if I had made my plans around what he wanted. After Rick’s death, all my attention went to our son. Between raising Ranger and work, I never had time for travel even if I’d wanted to.
“Will you visit your son in Korea?”
I nod. “Someday.”
“He lives in what part?”
“Seoul.”
Mr. Jang’s hand goes to his chest and his smile lights up his entire face. “Me too! Big place with lots of people. It would be nice to see you there one day. That would be something unexpected, but nice.”
For a moment, I imagine meeting him there by chance. His acknowledgement would be stilted, if he spoke at all. I wouldn’t be offended though. I’ve worked at Camp Greenwood for over fourteen years, so I know how it is with the elite of this world.
“Have you always lived in Seoul?”
“No, my childhood was in Busan. I lived near the ocean there too.”
How did the oceans there compare to here? I’m hit with a sudden craving to find out for myself, but it passes quickly. These impulses are nothing more than me missing my son.
We are quickly approaching our destination, and my mind goes back to the job at hand.
“Let me give you my card.” I slide the one I’ve prepared for him from my phone case and tap my nails against the front. “You can reach me here most of the time but since I will be your interpreter during your stay here, I wrote my personal number on the back in case you need me during off hours.”
“Gamsahabnida.”
Is it my imagination or did his thank you spoken in his native language sound deeper than when he speaks English?
He takes the card with both hands and slides it into the pocket of his blazer. The custom for Koreans is to give and take with both hands. I had spoken to the staff on this subject, yet I’d forgotten at the very first opportunity.
The resort gate opens as our car approaches. No one is around today, but tomorrow will be a different story. Word always leaks out—sometimes from the celebrities themselves—that someone of interest is joining us here at Camp Greenwood and fans and camera crews alike show up.
“Your luggage should have arrived before us. Someone at the front desk will show you to your suite. Supper is served at 6pm but as you know, you are not obligated to stick to our schedule. If anything is lacking or if there is anything you need or want, please let the staff know.”
He stared at my mouth as I spoke. I just rattled off the rote spiel I’ve used hundreds of times, forgetting that English isn’t his native language. Did he understand everything I said?
He nods. “I will be at the supper.”
Resort staff are waiting to greet us and open the door for Mr. Jang.
“Wait for me.” I tap the back of the seat to let the driver know I’m speaking to him before sliding out after Mr. Jang.
“This is Mr. Jang Hyun-woo. Please treat Mr. Jang kindly.”
Bethany from the front desk steps toward us and bows as I’d taught her. “Welcome to Camp Greenwood. My name is Bethany. If you will follow me, I will show you to your suite. We already have you checked in, Mr. Jang.”
She holds his room card out with two hands. She is following my instructions to a T and pride radiates through my chest. I wait to see if Mr. Jang has questions for me but he follows Bethany inside.
I let out my breath as I sink back into the limo’s plush leather seat. I could’ve walked to my office on the other side of the building but the trip through the airport wore me out and my day isn’t over yet.
Alex, the resort’s owner, is waiting for me when I walk through the employee entrance and he follows me through my office to my dressing room. “Did you run into any problems?”
I look over my shoulder at him. “We really needed at least one more bodyguard. It was touch and go getting him out of there, but we managed to make it out in one piece.”
I’m already coming out of my blazer before I even make it to the closet.
Alex helps me with the jacket and reaches over my shoulder for a hanger. “I didn’t think too many people would know who the man is once he got to the States.”
I cut my eyes at him but don’t argue. I’d shown him the videos that had surfaced from Mr. Jang’s trip through the airport in Seoul. A mob of people had surrounded him and his six bodyguards. Granted, the crowd here wasn’t as big but it was enough to make me sweat the outcome.
After adding my shoes to the row at the bottom of the closet, I slump down onto the couch and begin unpinning my hair from the severe bun.
“Wear this tonight.”
I look up from massaging my scalp at the dress on the hanger dangling from Alex’s index finger. I’d been surprised when it showed up in my closet a couple of weeks ago. It’s black like everything else my job has provided for me, but this dress is sleeveless and will probably hit above my knee, though I have yet to try it on. There’s nothing wrong with the dress, but Alex’s taste usually runs more… he would say professional, I would say boring.
He hangs the dress from the closet door. “I asked the chef to make us a good, old-fashion T-bone steak and baked potato for supper. I imagine our guest might be suffering from jet lag after the almost sixteen-hour flight to get here.”
In other words, it might just be me and Alex sitting at the table tonight. That might be uncomfortable for me but not unbearable. He’s never stepped over the line, but I get the feeling he’d like a more personal relationship.
There are several reasons for not allowing that to happen. The main one being that he’s still married. His ex-wife stays the night here with him every once in a while. For whatever reason, they’ve tried to hide it. Her car occasionally shows up at the back of the employee parking lot and at the same time, Alex cannot be found. But that’s their business, not mine.
After a few moments of silence, he pulls away from the wall he’s leaning against. “I’m sure you have things to do before supper, so I’ll leave you to it.”
My primary job here at the resort is to act as hostess—the counterpart to Alex’s job as host. I got the promotion after his wife left five years ago. Becoming her replacement felt a little odd at first, but the increase in pay helped me get over it. I also happen to love my job.
After locking the door, the uniform comes off and I slip into the dress. It fits my slim figure perfectly. My hair goes back into its bun but this one’s softer with wisps of hair framing my face. Then I reapply my makeup. As I replace my stud earrings with ones that dangle, I glance out the window.
A white Lexus sits at the back of the parking lot. The car belongs to Alex’s wife, so I doubt very seriously he’ll be joining me for supper. If Mr. Jang stays true to his word and shows up for the meal, it will just be the two of us tonight.
Available on Amazon- https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GM92BLC4
Other Stores- books2read.com/K-dramastar
Andrea Boyd 