Ha-Joon came downstairs a few moments later.
His hair was neatly styled, sleeves rolled just right, expression calm and unreadable as ever. He moved with quiet confidence, like the house adjusted itself around him.
Ji-Ah stood politely to the side, hands clasped in front of her, trying not to fidget.
He sat down and looked at the food.
Just looked.
Her shoulders tensed.
Then he picked up his chopsticks and took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed.
Another bite.
Her heart thumped.
"Not bad," he said finally.
She relaxed—just a little.
"But it needs improvement."
Of course it did. ''High praise.''
She smiled anyway. "Since you judge. Can you cook?" she asked, curious.
He paused, glanced at her. "Yes."
That somehow made everything worse.
He stood, straightening his jacket. "Get ready. We're going to the office."
He added, without looking back, "And remember—you don't live here."
She nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
He walked away, footsteps steady.
Ji-Ah stared after him, smile fading into a small pout.
"…Then why am I cooking," she muttered quietly, already heading upstairs to get ready.
-
They stepped outside together.
Ha-Joon stopped at the gate and turned to her.
"At the office," he said calmly, "you greet me. Act like you're seeing me for the first time today."
She nodded quickly. "Yes, sir."
Satisfied, he walked to his car, opened the door, and drove off like a man exiting a commercial.
Ji-Ah watched the car disappear, then scoffed. "So dramatic."
She turned toward Pip, patted the handle. "Let's go."
She hopped on, bag secured, engine humming happily beneath her. As usual, she stopped by her favorite vendor.
"The usual," she said, smiling.
The vendor handed her the bag. She thanked him and rode off, feeling oddly proud—she was early today.
At the office, she sat down and greeted Soo-Min. "Morning!"
"You're early," Soo-Min said, impressed.
"Don't get used to it," Ji-Ah replied.
Then the door opened.
Ha-Joon walked in.
The air shifted.
Everyone stood.
"Good morning, sir."
Ji-Ah stood too. "Good morning, sir."
He acknowledged it with a small nod, already moving.
"Soo-Min," he said coolly, "bring the documents. Park Ji-Ah—bring my coffee."
"Yes, sir," they replied in unison.
As he reached his office, Hye-Rin appeared beside him like she'd been summoned by the atmosphere itself, handing him a folder.
"Sir, please sign."
He signed while walking, handed it back, and disappeared into his office.
Soo-Min grabbed the documents and her laptop.
Ji-Ah sighed and headed toward the mini kitchen.
"Here we go again," she muttered, rolling up her sleeves.
Ji-Ah stepped into Ha-Joon's office, coffee tray in hand.
He was leaning over Soo-Min's documents, brows furrowed, expression unreadable.
Seo-Jun stood quietly at the side, pretending to check his tablet.
"Morning, sir," Ji-Ah said softly, setting the cup down.
The moment Ha-Joon saw her, he straightened slightly. Not a wide smile—just enough to seem human.
"Soo-Min," he said, glancing at the papers, "this is better. Well done."
Soo-Min beamed, completely oblivious, rattling off thanks as if he'd just handed her a trophy.
Ji-Ah's hands tightened on the tray.
Not jealousy, Not yet.
Just… pure, simmering, unfair frustration.
"Sir…" she said, taking a breath.
"Why did you make me your editor at all? I mean… I mess things up, I'm clumsy, I spill coffee—"
Ha-Joon's gaze flicked up, sharp and cold. "Because you're capable."
Ji-Ah blinked, mouth slightly open. "…Capable?"
He gave her a single, measured nod and returned to Soo-Min's work.
She sighed, rolling her shoulders, muttering under her breath, "…capable, my foot."
Seo-Jun, standing silently, smirked just a little. Poor girl… always gets scolded, never praised.
Ji-Ah turned to leave, tray empty, mind already buzzing with complaints.
"Dinner," Ha-Joon called quietly as she reached the door.
She froze. "…Dinner?"
"Yes. Delicious. Be ready."
She blinked. "…Sir…"
"Do not disappoint me."
Ji-Ah rolled her eyes and stepped out, muttering, "…clumsy, energetic… capable, my foot indeed."
Ji-Ah was walking back from Ha-Joon's office, arms full of papers, when she saw Hye-Rin looming over Soo-Min like a storm cloud.
"Really, Soo-Min," Hye-Rin said smoothly, voice sharp as a knife, "that font… it screams amateur."
Soo-Min froze, staring at her screen, cheeks pink.
Ji-Ah couldn't stand it. She stepped forward.
"Hey, back off. She's not that bad," she said, voice low but firm.
Hye-Rin turned slowly, eyes narrowing at Ji-Ah.
"And you… the new girl. Clumsy, energetic, probably spills coffee on everything."
Ji-Ah blinked. "…Excuse me?"
Hye-Rin's smirk widened. "Honestly, I don't see how Ha-Joon picked you as his editor."
Something inside Ji-Ah snapped.
She leaned closer, voice dripping with cool sarcasm. "Well, if it's any consolation, I like helping friends who panic over fonts—and I don't need to be perfect to do it."
Hye-Rin's lips twitched, more surprised than angry. "Bold. I'll give you that."
Before Ji-Ah could do anything else.
Seo-Jun appeared quietly beside her, hand out like a referee. "Perhaps… a calm approach is better."
Hye-Rin rolled her eyes, straightened her blazer, and walked away, heels clicking.
Ji-Ah exhaled, shaking her head. "That woman…"
Soo-Min looked at her with wide eyes. "Ji-Ah… you were amazing."
Ji-Ah smirked, crouched slightly, and grabbed her small water bottle from her desk.
She took a long, satisfied drink, muttering under her breath, "…I need this after that."
Soo-Min giggled, still staring at her like she'd just witnessed a miracle.
Ji-Ah stood up, shoulders back, papers clutched, ready to face the rest of the day.
--