“No. Not at all. I was just being polite.”
“I’m glad I’m here too. I’ve always dreamt of visiting Seoul.”
“Really?”
“No. Not at all. I was just being polite.”
At the end of the meal, Paul tidied away the containers in his bag and stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“To wash these.”
“Are you joking?”
“Absolutely not. I’m not going to throw away my Tupperware. I’ll need it for the return trip.”
“So you’re not planning on staying in Korea indefinitely?”
“Who knows? We’ll see.”
They checked the in-flight entertainment program. Mia opted for a romantic comedy, and Paul for a thriller. Ten minutes later, Paul was watching Mia’s movie and Mia was watching his. First they exchanged a look, then their earphones, and finally their seats.
Paul eventually went to sleep, and Mia made sure no one woke him up during the descent. He opened his eyes just as the plane’s wheels touched the ground and stiffened as the pilot activated the reverse thrust. His nightmare was ending, Mia reassured him. In a few moments, they would be getting off the plane.
After going through Passport Control, Paul retrieved his suitcase from the baggage carousel and put it on a cart.
“Yours isn’t out yet?” he asked.
“This is all I have,” she said, gesturing toward the satchel on her shoulder.
Paul said nothing, distracted by his growing anticipation. He looked at the sliding doors up ahead, trying to think how he would act as he walked through them.
A group of about thirty readers had unfurled a banner that proclaimed:Welcome, Paul Barton.
Mia put on her sunglasses.
“Wow, they really know how to make a guy feel welcome,” Paul hissed to Mia. “I mean, hiring extras . . . just a little over the top . . .”
He scanned the row of faces in search of Kyong’s, then glanced back over his shoulder. Mia had disappeared. He thought he caught a glimpse of her going past the Arrivals barrier and melting into the crowd.
The group rushed toward him, notebooks and pens in hand, begging him to sign autographs. Embarrassed at first, Paul signed with good grace until a man he assumed must be his Korean editor arrived, scattering the crowd of fans and shaking his hand warmly.
“Welcome to Seoul, Mr. Barton. It’s an honor to have you here on Korean soil.”
“The honor is all mine,” Paul replied, continuing to scan the crowd. “Really, you shouldn’t have.”
“Shouldn’t have what?” the editor asked.
“All these people, it’s just a bit . . .”
“We tried to keep them away, but you are very popular here and they knew you were arriving. In fact, they’ve been waiting here for more than three hours.”
“But . . . why?”
“To see you, of course. Follow me, I have a car waiting to take you to your hotel. I imagine you’re quite exhausted after the long voyage.”
Mia joined them outside the terminal.
