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Episode 3
It was only after I had watched the video for the eighth time that I realized I hadn’t touched the wine in front of me even once.
I had been dissecting every movement and expression of Yeoreum, focusing with a kind of concentration that surprised even me.
And perhaps because of that, while I was immersed in her, the splitting headache that had been drilling through my skull had vanished.
But the body part that responded more vividly was another one altogether.
Until now, aside from physiological functions, it had never once reacted sexually. Yet now it was burning hot with a fierce heat.
It was absurd—this wasn’t an erotic video, just a job interview clip of Yeoreum.
Looking back, my behavior today had been strange, uncharacteristic.
But one thing was clear: all those out-of-character actions had started with Yeoreum.
Earlier, right before meeting her, I had gotten into a foul mood after a phone call with my father telling me to drop by the family home. To cool my anger, I had forced my eyes shut.
So when Myeong-jun said the interpreter who would start working tomorrow had come by to introduce herself, I had no desire to meet her. I hadn’t even bothered to open my eyes, intending to dismiss her with just a quick hello.
But then the woman acted out of nowhere.
She cried as if something tragic had happened and even went so far as to touch my face.
I had meant to ask if she was out of her mind, but the moment our eyes met, I couldn’t say a word.
It wasn’t her who was out of her mind—it was me.
The moment our gazes locked, one side of my chest throbbed painfully.
It wasn’t like the tightness from harsh training; it was closer to pain, my heart pounding violently.
Because of that, I couldn’t even think to brush away the touch on my face. All I could do was stare at her like a fool.
I nearly reached out to wipe away the tears welling in her eyes.
By the time I came to my senses and shook her off, my reaction had been far too slow.
The interpreter I had hired before Yeoreum had been fired simply because she dared to touch one of my belongings without permission.
I hated anyone laying hands on my body—or anything I owned. Even my secretary, Myeong-jun, who had been by my side for the past four years, was no exception.
It was the same with handshakes.
Except for unavoidable business situations, I loathed physical contact with anyone.
Loathed it? No, it was worse. I found it horrifying, revolting.
When Ra-young had touched my face earlier, I had brushed her off mercilessly.
But when this stranger did the same, instead of disgust I felt my body tense with heat.
Since childhood, I had watched my father cycle through women like disposable items. I had always believed that failing to control one’s primal urges made a man no better than a beast.
And yet here I was, acting no differently. To think my so-called compulsions could have an exception. To feel such intense lust for a woman I had just met—pathetic didn’t even begin to cover it.
“So much for being a man, huh.”
I laughed bitterly, swallowing the wine.
Yeoreum’s son, Ye-gyeom, had recovered from his cold, but to be safe, he would stay home from kindergarten for a week.
While Yeoreum was at work, a nanny—who had occasionally cared for Ye-gyeom since he was a baby—would look after him.
Trusting the nanny, Yeoreum left home for her first day of work.
Catching a bus that came right away, she was relieved to realize she’d arrive at the company earlier than expected.
“Phew…”
She thought she was fine, but as she drew closer to work, old anxieties stirred again.
Though time had dulled the pain, every time she thought of Suha, emotions surged uncontrollably, just like yesterday.
Crying uncontrollably, grabbing a stranger’s face on their first meeting… How strange she must have seemed to Gi Hyeon-jae.
Remembering his voice, sharp and accusing, Yeoreum bit her lip.
She would need to apologize properly.
Even if her mind went blank in front of him, she’d have to get used to it—they would be working together.
“He’s not Gong Suha… He’s not.”
She repeated it to herself like a mantra.
By then, the Onjo Foods headquarters building was coming into view outside her bus window.
But despite her worries, Yeoreum didn’t see Hyeon-jae all morning—or even into the afternoon.
He still hadn’t shown up for work.
Even Myeong-jun and the other secretaries were gone all day for a meeting, leaving Yeoreum alone in the office.
Though Myeong-jun had apologized for not being able to have lunch with her, the truth was that Yeoreum was used to being alone.
Having worked freelance for years—mostly at home, or one-on-one, or with small groups—sitting in an office with others felt strange to her anyway.
Luckily, the product development team had given her some sample kimbap to try for a taste test, so lunch was easily settled.
She spent the rest of the time proofreading the translated documents she had already prepared for Myeong-jun.
No errors.
Her main job, after all, was interpreting for Hyeon-jae on overseas trips, not office paperwork.
It seemed like she’d be spending the day quietly until quitting time, so she decided to study some vocabulary instead.
Earbuds in, she listened to videos and practiced words, spinning her pen absentmindedly.
After about an hour, she realized the pen cap had flown off somewhere. Her fingers were smudged with ink.
Spotting the cap under her chair, she reached for it—but it rolled further away.
“Ugh, can’t even grab that properly.”
Muttering to herself, she crawled under the desk to retrieve it.
That’s when she looked up and locked eyes with someone.
It was Gi Hyeon-jae.
Startled, she lost balance and ended up kneeling on the floor.
The pen cap rolled right into the tip of his shoe.
He glanced down at the cap, then at her kneeling before him.
What on earth was she doing now?
Yeoreum clenched her fist, then jumped to her feet.
“Hello, Director.”
She tried to sound calm, though her voice was lower than usual from the effort of hiding her embarrassment.
Hyeon-jae stared at her in silence.
A heavy stillness settled between them.
“At least you’re not crying today.”
“I truly apologize for yesterday.”
“You should. You’re being rude today too.”
“I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
She bent to pick up the cap, but he got there first.
Holding it out, he suddenly pulled his hand back.
“I should feel offended… but why don’t I?”
Their eyes met again.
Confusion flickered even in his flat tone, as though he himself didn’t understand.
For Yeoreum, it was like seeing Suha in him again. She froze, then quickly averted her gaze.
“I’ll be careful not to make mistakes again.”
Bowing once more, she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.
If she looked too long, the fragile resolve she had built might crumble.
She reached for the pen cap.
“I’ll just take this.”
But as she turned to leave, he stopped her.
“Have you had lunch?”
“No, not yet.”
“Neither have I.”
“Then please, go ahead, Director. I still have work to finish.”
She shuffled papers, pretending to be busy, hoping to avoid the awkwardness of eating alone with him on her first day.
Yet he remained standing there, waiting.
“Is it urgent work?”
“Uh… not really.”
“Then let’s eat together. Don’t want to eat with me?”
The wounded look in his eyes made it impossible for her to refuse.
Reluctantly, she set the papers down.
“It’s not that. I was just going to eat kimbap…”
She lifted the box on her desk.
Smirking, tilting his head, he replied:
“Let’s go. I’ll buy you something better.”
