Did he know I’ve been taking fruit home?
The question surfaced through the embarrassment. It wasn’t the norm for a serving staff member to take Glock’s ingredients home. And yet Seongjun had issued the head chef a direct order to send along more of whatever he liked. Was that why? Yuhyeon’s eyes drifted to the pile of ingredients set aside for him in the corner. He must have noticed the food the head chef had already packed up.
“Can you actually carry all of this?”
The head chef looked down with concern at the box of kiwis, the heavy bag packed with assorted fruit, and the whole raw chicken. Each item alone would have been manageable, but together they added up to a considerable weight. He added, with a worried tone, that Yuhyeon might end up with muscle soreness from overexerting himself.
“I’ll have to take a taxi then.”
That was what he said — but his thoughts ran differently. There was perfectly cheap public transportation in the form of the bus; there was no need to waste money on a taxi. Lugging heavy bags on and off a bus was a hassle, but at this hour the inside would be quiet, so it would probably be fine. Yuhyeon gathered up his armload of things and bowed his head toward the kitchen staff.
“I’ll be heading out.”
“Take care going home.”
The other staff members, watching Yuhyeon leave early with a touch of envy, waved and told him to get plenty of rest.
It really is heavy.
Before he’d started at Glock, he’d briefly worked at a distribution center. He’d thought he’d built up a decent amount of arm strength there, but against this load he was hopeless. Climbing the stairs, Yuhyeon set the bags down in front of the exit and readjusted his grip to work out the ache building in his forearms.
The bus stop was about a five-minute walk from Glock. It wasn’t a particularly long distance, but the weight of his load made it impossible to walk with any lightness in his step. He had barely started down the pavement when his muscles began threatening to seize up. He was in the middle of readjusting his hold on the bags every three steps when someone called out to stop him.
“Seo Yuhyeon.”
Hearing his name, Yuhyeon turned around to check who it was and his eyes went wide.
“Owner?”
Running into him this often today couldn’t simply be a feeling.
“Heading home?”
“Ah, yes! I’m on my way now. I heard you sent the kiwis — thank you very much.”
Yuhyeon tightened his grip on the box of kiwis. He couldn’t quite tell whether he should just get on his way, or tack on another word and keep the conversation going. The silence lasted only a moment before Chae Seongjun broke through the awkwardness.
“Those look heavy. I’ll give you a ride.”
“Oh, it’s fine—”
“I want to.”
The words he’d been vaguely stringing together hit a wall against Seongjun’s certainty. He’d assumed it was a polite, offhand offer and had been about to decline, but looking at the man’s expression, he meant it. Perhaps he’d looked like he was about to drop his bags. After a brief deliberation, Yuhyeon decided to accept — it would also save him the bus fare. There was no reason to dig his heels in and refuse Seongjun’s kindness.
“That one right there. Leave the bags in the back seat.”
Seongjun pointed to the sedan parked directly in front of them, then walked around the front of the hood and pulled open the driver’s door. It was only natural that Seongjun, as the owner, had money. Even so, Yuhyeon couldn’t quite conceal his astonishment at the fact that the man owned a foreign-made car that had only recently come out.
This must be incredibly expensive.
Yuhyeon stole glances at the sleek body of the car as he got in. It wasn’t that he had a particular interest in cars — it was simply that riding in a foreign-made car he’d only ever seen in advertisements felt surreal. He quietly envied a level of wealth he couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around.
He shut the car door, sat up straight, and fixed his gaze ahead — and immediately felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him. There was no question the car would be thick with silence the whole way home. How uncomfortable was this going to be? He had no talent for small talk, and the moment he’d agreed to take a ride in this man’s car, he regretted it. Yuhyeon let out a quiet sigh and started fidgeting, craning back to look at the bags he’d put in the back seat under the pretense of checking on them. His actual aim was simply to create a bit of commotion.
“Seatbelt.”
“Pardon?”
Seongjun glanced at him from the side and said it plainly.
“You need to put on your seatbelt.”
Ah — Yuhyeon made a small sound and quickly reached for the seatbelt.
“Where’s home?”
“Gyeongwon Station. I actually have somewhere to stop by first…. If you could drop me off there, I’d appreciate it.”
Of course, the claim that he had somewhere to stop by was a lie. It might have been nothing more than his own misplaced pride, but he didn’t want to show his crumbling apartment to the owner. Saying he was making a stop while weighed down with heavy groceries should have sounded suspicious, but whether he was being too hard on himself, the man didn’t seem to question it at all.
Wiggling his fingers as he watched the scenery rush by outside lasted only a short while before they hit a red light. When the engine noise that had been humming along went quiet, the silence pressed down all the heavier. He needed to find something to talk about to break it. Barely had the thought begun when Seongjun’s left hand caught his eye.
Is he married…?
There was a ring on the ring finger of the left hand resting on the steering wheel. His first instinct was that the man was married — but then the thought occurred to him that he might simply have a partner.
“Are you… married? Or is it a partner?”
“Hm?”
The question had come rather out of nowhere. Once Seongjun registered what Yuhyeon was asking, it didn’t take him long to work out that the ring was the reason. He spread open the left hand he’d been holding on the wheel. The ring caught the sunlight and gleamed with quiet elegance.
“Are you curious about whether I’m seeing someone, Seo Yuhyeon?”
“Pardon — what?”
It was only once Seongjun echoed the question back that he realized just how personal it had been. In his attempt to do something about the atmosphere, he’d ended up prying into his employer’s private life. Yuhyeon hurriedly apologized and dropped his head.
“I’m sorry. It’s just, I—”
“It’s fine. It’s natural to be curious.”
Seongjun glanced briefly at Yuhyeon, whose ears had gone fully red, and answered once more that it didn’t bother him before continuing.
“This is an engagement ring.”
“Oh, you’re engaged….”
Yuhyeon repeated the word slowly and nodded. Though, thinking about it — Seongjun was, by any measure, an attractive person. There was no way no one stood at his side. If he was engaged, that meant there was someone he’d made a promise of marriage to — so should he offer congratulations? He’d never had a conversation like this before, so he couldn’t easily judge what kind of response would be the polite one.
“To be more precise, it’s an engagement with no actual partner.”
What does that mean? Yuhyeon was in the middle of deciding how to respond when he began doubting his own ears. An engagement ring, but no actual partner. Had he recently called off an engagement? But then he was still wearing the ring. Maybe it was words of encouragement rather than congratulations he should be offering. A tangle of unspoken words built up inside Yuhyeon’s mouth and brought everything to a standstill. He had absolutely chosen the wrong topic to bring up.
Watching Yuhyeon squirm and struggle, Seongjun let out a quiet laugh.
“There isn’t any great meaning behind it — I genuinely have no partner. Running a business tends to bring in a lot of marriage proposals. I came up with my own solution before I ended up in a situation I couldn’t easily refuse.”
The kind of arranged marriages between business families you saw in dramas — apparently real life wasn’t so different.
“Well, who knows how long this little trick will stay effective. Without something real to back it up, it tends to lack convincing power.”
The light changed, and the car began picking up speed again. At that moment, Seongjun absently touched his lips and murmured, almost as though to himself,
“If there were someone willing to be my contract fiancé, I’d make sure they were more than compensated for it.”
Yuhyeon, listening quietly, felt an eyebrow twitch upward. It was true — if there were someone to play the part appropriately at formal occasions, the likelihood of Seongjun being troubled by unwanted proposals would drop considerably.
“Then the people around you must all think you have someone you’ve made a future with.”
“That’s right. You’re the only person who knows the truth of it. No one else has any idea.”
There was a notable weight to the way he said no one else. Yuhyeon found himself wondering something.
“Then shouldn’t you have kept it a secret from me too?”
