My Seoul Man

Chapter 3

See, that sucker spun around and sort of locked eyes with me like they do in those K-pop music videos, right? Gave me one of those real intense, smoldering stares that make you feel all some kind of way...

And he had the nerve to do this little tongue flick thing, too. Tip of the tongue at the corner of his mouth--reminded me of how Michael Jordan used to stick his tongue out when he was leaping up to make one of his superhuman dunks. With that little "Yeah, I know I'm bad" glint in his eyes...

But I finally managed to say, "Hate to stop the show, but could I steal you away for a minute?"

And he followed me right on past the "Who does this heifer think she is?" glares and over to the buffet tables. Where I nodded toward all the full platters of fried chicken lined up next to the very empty basket his chicken had been in.

And he gave this little chuckle—had dimples, right? Deep ones that I somehow missed.

Seemed to be liking something I had, too. The way those eyes sparkled after he'd sized up both me and the chicken situation.

So, I was definitely not happy to hear, "What are we gonna do about that?" from right behind me at that particular moment.

Aunt Jennie. With a couple of other elder women right behind her for backup.

I rolled my eyes and said, "Y'all gonna go chase down a few of Cousin Riley's yardbirds for him to fry up or what? Cause we're gonna need a whole coop full to feed all these people."

AJ shot me a wink that melted my knee caps a little bit. "I think I know where I can get enough to go around. I'll fry some up right quick and be back in no time."

Aunt Jennie raised her chin. "Got some kinda secret sauce you hidin' from us?"

And before I could snap back at that, AJ looked at me and said, "Extra pair of hands would get the job done faster. You could take notes, too."

I got some grief about being the main one everybody was coming to see. But after AJ promised it would take "about 30 minutes, tops," and I reminded them about those "notes" I could take, we were off cruising in that Jeep bumping "U Know What's Up." One of my top jams...

He pulled up around back of Ahn's where they had a whole commercial kitchen to make and freeze all kinds of Chinese and Korean food—cut into my catering business a little bit, actually, them selling big bags of stuff people could just heat and serve right quick.

We had the kitchen all to ourselves that day, though, because the kitchen staff got weekends off. And boy, when AJ started prepping that chicken, I was hella glad I was the only one he'd invited. Because instead of mixing a batter and dunking the chicken bits in it, that man put the bits in a big ass bowl and threw the flour, eggs and some potato starch over it.

And before the Mama Sadie in me could say, "I know you didn't just throw that stuff in there all loose like that," those strong, slender fingers massaged the goop into a bowlful of perfectly battered chicken. Flicked in a little bit of cayenne for the heat.

"Where does the sweetness come from, though?" I asked, watching him drop the little drumettes into the hot oil.

And he winked at me again and said, "My secret sauce."

"Oh, okay. So, no notes?"

"It's not that deep. I mean, I made this every movie night instead of popcorn, in the dorm."

"You went to college over there?"

He headed for the sink to wash the chicken goo off the tongs and his hands. "Idol trainees live in dorms. Idols, too, actually."