Chapter 12

Hee-jin sniffled and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, so Ji-an got up, pulled a few tissues from the dresser and held them out.

“Unnie, here’s a tissue.”

“Thanks. When are these tear ducts of mine ever going to get fixed?”

“It’s only natural. You’ve got to cry when you feel like crying, or you’ll make yourself sick. Otherwise it festers inside.”

“Listen to you, talking like you’ve lived your whole life already.”

Hee-jin blew her nose with a honk, gave an awkward smile and changed the subject.

“That man outside. When the people at your company were freezing you out like a bunch of children, was he at least on your side?”

“Uh, yeah…”

Strictly speaking, that wasn’t far from the truth. When her brother-in-law passed away and Ji-an let it be known that she meant to resign, the one who’d scouted her into the secretariat and given her room to breathe had, in the end, been Sa-heon.

Ji-an poked at the floor with the tip of her foot and nodded.

“That’s right.”

“Sounds like you owe him.”

“Yeah, I owe him.”

But she couldn’t bring herself to tell her unnie that Sa-heon was the youngest son of Hyeongang. An outsider would hardly understand that the three brothers were on worse terms than strangers, each of them wanting the others dead. Besides, her unnie shuddered at the very name of Hyeongang.

“He’s got nowhere to go, so he can’t have quit on his own. Did he get fired or something?”

“Huh? Yeah. That’s how it worked out.”

“That’s too bad. He looks so put-together, too. I guess he just wasn’t very good at his job.”

For an instant Ji-an pictured the Sa-heon who’d been named one of an American business magazine’s five Asian Young Leaders of the Year, the one who’d graced its cover. Guilt stung her, so she avoided her sister’s eyes and put on an awkward smile.

“I told you, didn’t I? He’s in a really sad spot.”

“Tell him to make himself comfortable until he finds work.”

“Th-thanks, Unnie.”

“I’m going to the store. Need anything? We’ve got a guest, so I thought I’d drive into town.”

“I’ll go. From now on, send me on every errand!” Ji-an sprang up from her seat.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hee-jin laughed.

The supermarket was in town, forty minutes away by car.

Ji-an was carefully comparing the brands of toothpaste on sale when a long, solid arm stretched out from behind her. Slender fingers plucked two toothbrushes off the display without a moment’s hesitation and dropped them in the cart, then picked up two pairs of bathroom slippers and dropped those in too.

Ji-an looked at the pink women’s slippers and the green men’s slippers sitting side by side in the cart, and forced a smile.

“Um, Managing Director.”

“Yes.”

“Why are you putting two of everything in?”

“One pair’s for my honey.”

“Me?”

“Ji-an, you agreed to stay out here with me.”

“When did I ever?”

“Denying it now, are you?”

He hooked one arm lazily over the cart and smiled.

“D-denying it? And honestly, there’s no real reason for me to be here.”

“Because I’d be scared.”

Wh… what? It was so far from anything she’d expected that Ji-an’s voice jammed in her throat.

“Did you forget? I’m twenty-one.”

He let out a long sigh and twisted his eyebrows into a pitiful shape.

“Don’t you know twenty-one is the age when you can’t sleep alone at night in case a ghost turns up?”

A man of nearly a hundred and ninety centimeters was talking utter nonsense and playing pitiful, and his acting was so convincing that she nearly fell for it before she caught herself.

“Managing Director, you look like you’d beat up the ghost.”

Ji-an bristled at the ridiculous logic, and Sa-heon laughed out loud. She watched his back as he pushed the cart smoothly off toward the food section, and it needled her no end.

A man who looks like he’d walk back out of hell alive, and he’s scared? Scared of what? The more she thought about it, the more absurd it got.

So Ji-an pattered after him and threw the words at him primly.

“Your memory may have stopped at twenty-one, Managing Director, but you’re actually thirty-three. You’re six whole years older than me.”

“Ah. So older men are your type?”

One corner of Sa-heon’s mouth curved up in a splendid arc.

The moment he opened his mouth he was all sly smoothness, a man who could wind a person around his finger and swallow her whole. If she didn’t keep her wits about her, there was no telling when she’d end up tangled up with him. So Ji-an set her eyes hard and looked up at him.

“That is not what I meant.”

“Oh my~ Newlyweds, are you? What a handsome pair you make. Buy a pack of dumplings on your way.”

So that was where the savory smell had been coming from. A middle-aged saleswoman frying dumplings in a pan cut the golden-brown ones in half, speared them on toothpicks one by one and held them out, beaming.

“Do we really look that much like a married couple?” Sa-heon asked, accepting one.

“Oh, anyone can see you’re newlyweds. With a mom this pretty and a dad this handsome, your baby’s going to be just too adorable~”

The saleswoman laughed behind her hand, ho-ho-ho. Sa-heon put the halved dumpling in his mouth, dropped the toothpick into a paper cup and said, “I’ll take a pack.”

At that, the saleswoman promptly snatched up two bags of dumplings and handed them over.

“Try this one too. It’s our new one with pollock roe in it. It’s delicious.”

“I’ll take that one too.”

“And this one’s got shrimp in it.”

“That one as well, then.”

The bags piled up in a heap in the cart, and Ji-an caught at his arm in alarm.

“W-we don’t need dumplings.”

“I like them.”

“You… like dumplings, Managing Director?”

“Yes.”

Likes them, my foot. He looks like he’s never once ordered delivery from a Chinese place in his life. He looks like he wouldn’t touch a fried dumpling even at the Chinese restaurant of a five-star hotel.

“What are you doing? Come on.”

Sa-heon pulled the cart along at his leisure, as though telling her to follow, and Ji-an trailed after him with a woeful face.

Beep, beep. The higher the total on the register climbed, the more Ji-an shifted from foot to foot like a puppy desperate for the bathroom.

“I don’t think you’ll be needing this.” She held up a camellia-scented fabric softener and smiled.

“I need it.”

“And this?” This time she lifted up a pair of premium rubber gloves labeled absolutely tear-proof, and smiled again. Sa-heon’s eyebrow went up at a slant.

“…Is it the money you’re begrudging? Are you hinting I should do the dishes bare-handed, right now?”

“N-no.”

“That’ll be 427,120 won.”

In the end the total came out several times larger than she’d expected.

“Lend me some money.”

He stood at the register and declared without a trace of shame that he hadn’t brought his wallet. She wanted to tell him once more to take out everything they didn’t need, but the words simply wouldn’t leave her mouth. What power do I have? That’s the lot of the one who signs second¹.

My money… Weeping tears of blood on the inside, Ji-an swiped her card.

Sa-heon, his face full of satisfaction and both hands full of shopping bags, loaded the lot into the trunk of Ji-an’s car and climbed into the passenger seat.

“That came to less than I thought it would.”

He’d cleaned her out of more than four hundred thousand won, and it had come to less than he thought.

“Sorry? Less?”

Ji-an bristled, a little stung, and he shrugged.

“Was that a lot? I guess I started spending more freely as I got older. I just end up buying whatever.”

“No. You never spent freely, Managing Director. You hated wasting money. You were so frugal you only had two cars, one for work and one for yourself.”

“Is that so.”

Sa-heon let it go past his ears as though it were a story about somebody else, then held out his palm. When she looked at him as if to ask why, he grinned.

“Phone, please.”

“What for?”

“I need to call Chief Choi. You know my phone’s switched off because of Lee Jae-gwon.”

“Yes.”

Ji-an handed over the phone with a sigh. After a few short rings, Chief Choi picked up.

“It’s me, Chief.”

—Yes! Managing Director! Are you all right?

“Well enough. I’m getting by.”

—I’ll set out shortly myself. If I leave now, I expect to arrive around late evening.

“No, don’t come. Send some money over to Ji-an right now.”

—How much shall I deposit, Managing Director?

“It’s a pain if taxes get complicated, so… ten million won or so, would that do?”

Sa-heon’s gaze landed on Ji-an, and Ji-an, who’d been listening to the call, went wide-eyed.

“I’m Lee Sa-heon, of all people. And here I am getting nagged about money.”

—I’ll transfer it at once.

Sa-heon ended the call and pressed the phone back into her hands. Not long after, ding, a bank alert sounded to say the money was in. Ji-an stared at Sa-heon in a daze, and he grinned and winked at her.

“Sent you this month’s housekeeping money, honey.”

Hee-jin took the bursting shopping bags and rummaged through them with a bewildered face.

“What is all this? Why did you buy so much? And why so many dumplings?”

“That’s just how it worked out…”

“How are we supposed to eat this much? The Father’s coming by later — shall I tell Paul and Anna to come too² and we’ll just fry these up?”

“If you like…”

“Dumpling party!”

Dong-yun hopped on the spot in delight. Hee-jin looked at Sa-heon and spoke sweetly.

“I’ve finished clearing out the rooftop. I’ve put bedding up there and anything else you might need, so just let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you.”

Sa-heon gave a slight bow of the head, and Hee-jin smiled bashfully. Honestly. Ji-an shook her head, at a loss, and Sa-heon looked at her and tipped his chin.

“Shall we go up, then?”

“Yes.”

He was so natural about it that for a moment she almost followed him up as though the rooftop were her own place. Ji-an stopped short in her tracks, and he grinned.

“You said you’d help me tidy up.”

“Ah… I did, yes.”

So she was dragged up to the rooftop like a convict. She pulled the steel door open, and at an interior that looked nothing whatsoever like it had earlier, Ji-an’s eyes went round.