I’m struck, yet again, by how earnest Daniel is about things that, on a Tinder profile, would have me rolling my eyes: travel, food, music, art. But Daniel knows his stuff, he walks the walk.
When we step off the elevator, we run straight into Halmoni. “Cassia,” she says with a smile. She glances at Daniel, as if wondering who he is. But she knows. I see the quicksilver moment when her eyes flash in recognition.
“Halmoni, this is Daniel. Daniel, this is my grandmother, the founder of the agency.”
He seems to lose his composed veneer for about two seconds as he says, “Oh! Hello, lovely to meet you. Thank you for the invitation.”
I have to give Halmoni credit for not looking more curious. In fact, she acts almost indifferent to him. “Hello.” She looks down at her phone. Then she glances up and gives him a cursory smile. “I hope you have a good evening and meet some interesting people.” Then a look at me. “See you later?”
I nod and ignore the bead of sweat making its way down my back. With Halmoni meeting him—it all feels incredibly real suddenly.
Daniel must sense something because he raises an eyebrow. “Scary Halmoni?” His British accent speaking in Korean isdelightful.
I laugh. “Yes, but also no. My grandmother has high standards for these events. Just wants everything to go smoothly.”
“Does she mind you mingling with the clients?” Teasing and aware.
“No, she wants us to get to know all of you.” It’s not a lie. “We do our jobs best when we truly know our clients.”
We walk into a gallery filled with modern art from the 1900s when Daniel says, “So, I have to address the elephant in the room.”
“What’s that?” But I have a feeling I know what he’s about to say.
“Ellis.”
I give him my full attention, keeping my features very, very neutral. “What about him?”
Daniel tilts his head as he looks at me. “He’s my employee but also a friend.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Are you two…” He falters a bit, looking less assured of himself. “I know it’s really none of my business, but I just want to be super clear about where you two left things?”
I remember the yurt, the light glowing off of Ellis as he rushed to put on his shirt. “I ended things.”
Something indecipherable flickers across his face. “Oh, okay.”
We walk in silence through a room full of bronze cast statues by Alberto Giacometti—intricate and grotesque shapes that seem to stretch toward the ceiling.
Finally, I speak. “I just…he’s really wonderful. But the age gap was…it felt insurmountable to me.” All I can be is honest about this. I don’t care if it makes me feel like I’m aging myself, making myself less desirable.
“Ah, okay, that explains it.” Daniel has stopped, looking at a huge David Hockney painting of Mulholland Drive, his shoulders a little more relaxed now. “He seemed a bit…”
We stare at the Hockney together, with its vivid blues and imprecise grids, and I realize I am tense waiting for the rest.
“…subdued.”
My head turns to his too quickly. “Subdued?”
“Yeah. Ellis is like this glowing ball of energy, you know? He just kind of lights a place up. But the last couple weeks he’s been…subdued.”
This feels crushing to me and Daniel senses the mood has dampened. “Sorry, I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty.” I nod and he rubs his cheek in agitation. “Ah, bloody hell, I shouldn’t have said it.”
“No, no, really it’s fine,” I say. “I feel a little bad about it, but let’s be real. That kid will befine. We went out a couple times and he is…well, the way he is.”
“Yes,” he says, and it sounds like he wants to say more but doesn’t. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Sure,” I echo. And then we both laugh from the awkwardness of it all.
