"Anything else, ma'am?"
I froze. Completely froze. Like Elsa but with no ice magic— just sheer panic.
That voice. No. No way.
"It's not him… it's not him…" I chanted in my head like a monk trying to block out demons. Spoiler alert: it was him.
My trembling eyeballs slowly, very slowly, dragged themselves upward.
And there he was.
MR. JEON.
In a waiter's outfit.
EXCUSE ME?!?!
The cold, billionaire CEO who owned more companies than I owned pairs of socks—standing there holding a tray of sparkling water like he was auditioning for "Waiter No. 3" in a low-budget romcom.
My jaw dropped. My soul yeeted out of my body.
"Y— YOU?!" I screeched, pointing at him like a dramatic courtroom lawyer.
His soft, polite smile instantly collapsed like a soufflé in the oven. He looked at me with wide, terrified eyes, like I was the criminal here.
"W-what are you doing here?!" I demanded, voice going full opera- level dramatic.
