Off Limits Attraction (The Heirs of Hansol #3) - Jayci Lee Page 0,19

Was she captivated by a newfound hunger for adventure, or was she lashing out against the punishing rigidity of the life that her father forced on her? No. She had found peace with her life, and she counted herself lucky to have a job she loved. “Really, I’m not. I think I’m bored of working nonstop. Of work being the only thing in my life.”

“You’re finally talking sense. Work should never be your everything. You need to let your hair down and get a bit sloppy once in a while. Where is the fun in being so flawless all the time?” Her friend stood back and studied Jihae from head to toe. “I know the perfect place for tonight. All the staff went clubbing a couple weeks ago—it was your treat, of course—and we had such a great time. I think you’ll love it, too. Alas, I can’t let you just walk into a club looking like Princess Jihae.”

“But all my clothes look like these. Or there are the floor-length dresses. I don’t want to draw attention to myself, especially not as a weirdo wearing a white ball gown to a nightclub. My other alternatives are purple, pink or baby blue sweat suits. Even I know that I won’t get past the bouncers in those.”

“Are you forgetting how filthy rich you are? Your stylist isn’t here, but you don’t need her. Instead, you’ll have your best friend pick you the hottest, tiniest dress you’ve ever worn. Rodeo Drive is only twenty minutes away.”

They rushed to the parking structure and hopped into Jihae’s flashy sports car. As soon as her seat belt was secured, June scrolled through her phone until “Oh, Pretty Woman” blared from the speakers.

“You’re like Julia Roberts except you don’t need a man to pay for your clothes,” June shouted over the music.

“Girl power. Woo-hoo,” Jihae hooted, and sped toward Rodeo Drive. Everything around her looked sharper and even the air tasted fresher. It was the taste of freedom.

As the theme song of Pretty Woman played in a loop in Jihae’s head, she tried on every outrageously seductive dress that June piled onto the salesperson’s loaded arms. She felt like she was living a different person’s life, and it felt wonderful. But distress niggled at the back of her mind. If she loved someone else’s life so much, what did that say about her own?

* * *

June wouldn’t let Jihae look in a mirror until she’d poked and prodded her for an hour. Thank goodness she was used to being poked and prodded for hours by her stylist. Otherwise, she might’ve shoved her friend to the ground and run to the streets screaming for help. She couldn’t breathe properly in the shimmery silver mini dress they’d chosen, and her butt cheeks were asleep from sitting in the same position for too long.

“There. Go ‘mmm,’” June said, smacking her lips together. Jihae did as she was told, hoping that was the last of it. “You’re all done, and you’re welcome.”

“Thank God. I can’t feel my bum.” Jihae stood from her seat and opened her friend’s closet door for the full-length mirror. Her reflection made her breath catch. “I look smoking hot. I’m so glad you sat in on so many of my styling sessions. I think you’re even better than my stylists.”

June laughed as Jihae twisted this way and that to see all of herself. Her simple, spaghetti-strap dress clung to her curves like magic water, transforming her rather narrow, slender body into a delectable, curvaceous one. Her dramatic cat’s-eye makeup and bloodred lipstick made her look bold and mysterious. But her favorite thing about herself right now was the long, jet-black waves that flowed down her back and shoulders. This—this was no princess. No, the woman staring back at her was the mistress of her own life. She did as she wanted and no one could stop her.

“I’ll get ready fast, then we’ll go clubbing,” June said, ducking into her bathroom.

Jihae nodded distractedly and turned her gaze back to herself. She felt as though she had shed a layer of her skin and revealed a hidden side of her. Perhaps her true self. The one that matched her red, patent-leather stilettos—the only thing on her that she’d already owned before tonight. But Jihae knew who she was. Whenever she was alone, she could be as sloppy and goofy as she wanted. But a sudden rush of melancholy hit her. Maybe the real her wasn’t a silly side character