"With this, the location is settled."
The task of decorating the interior is Olivia's responsibility, so I just need to appoint someone in charge of promoting the store.
The place I headed to was the suite room where Lukas was staying. Perhaps because it was the best room in London, Lukas looked rather pleased.
"I saw him earlier, but that was with Jo So-deok."
This would be our first proper conversation.
We sat across from each other, a coffee table between us.
"Do you like the room?"
"Y-yes, of course. It's the best one here."
"You'll be staying in London for a while, so would you prefer a hotel or a house?"
"I've always dreamed of living on the top floor of a hotel, but…"
"Then let's do that, shall we?"
"But that would be expensive."
"You'll be making enough to cover it, right?"
"M-me?"
Lukas scratched his head sheepishly, looking as though he couldn't fathom himself having such ability.
"Since we're on the topic, what exactly will I be doing?"
"Design, of course."
"But design can mean many things…"
"Anything is fine. You can keep making T-shirts, or you could make hats, hoodies, even furniture if you'd like."
His Adam's apple bobbed nervously.
"And I'd get paid for that?"
I nodded.
Lukas scratched his head again, as if uncertain what to say.
"I heard my annual salary is a hundred thousand dollars."
That's about 150 million won.
"And you want me to just stay inside and draw?"
"Not exactly 'stay inside.'"
"…?"
"You'll come to work at the concept store."
"Ah, so you're even giving me a workspace."
Though he would need to help manage the store.
But it's a secret store, so there won't be much to manage.
Lukas seemed to have had a similar thought.
"Would it be possible for me to take on more work?"
"Sorry?"
"Design doesn't always flow on command, you know. So, when I hit a block, it would be nice to have something else to clear my head…"
"Ah."
So, he's worried that if his designs aren't good enough, he might get kicked out and wants to take on other tasks just in case?
"You're worrying about all sorts of things."
That's my intention anyway. It seems Lukas feels more comfortable if he has more work to do.
Well, then.
"Do you like taking photos?"
"I'd take them all day if I could."
"Perfect. I'm thinking of creating a men's magazine, so I'd like you to be responsible for some of the pages."
My request was simple. Just roam around the streets of London with a camera, take pictures of any fashion that catches his eye, and do some interviews. Since models would be compensated, finding people shouldn't be too difficult.
"It sounds like you're telling me to go out and have fun if I get bored in the store."
"Don't you like that idea?"
"Of course I do."
With that, things seemed more or less settled.
Just as I was about to stand up, Lukas grabbed me urgently.
"Boss."
He called out with some urgency, but his face was awkwardly cautious as he began to speak.
"I- I apologize if this is inappropriate."
"…?"
"I overheard your conversation with Professor Jo earlier, and it sounded like you were looking for more people."
Ah, I thought one Ultimate would be enough, but here we are.
"I wasn't sure whether I should bring this up or not. I'm already grateful enough that you took me in…"
"It's okay. Go ahead."
Even with my permission, he hesitated a bit, glancing around as if checking for approval. Finally, Lukas closed his eyes tightly and said,
"There's a friend of mine with quite a good sense. I thought maybe, if you needed more people, you might consider giving him a look."
Wait.
"A friend of Lukas's?"
A long-forgotten memory, hidden deep in the drawer of a dusty desk, began to peek out.
Could that be why?
"Is he a designer too?"
Excitement crept into my voice, and Lukas didn't miss it.
"Well, he didn't take the official route, but his skills are amazing. He worked at our store briefly, but instead of doing what he was asked, he just spent all day doodling in his notebook."
"But later, I saw the results, and they were incredible."
"Other than his annoyingly British immigrant accent, he's an excellent guy."
At the very moment Lukas emphasized "British," the tightly closed drawer in my memory suddenly fell open, revealing a faded name tag inside.
I looked up and asked Lukas, "What's your friend's name?"
"James… James Faber."
Sure enough, the same name was written on the name tag in the drawer.
***
Ten minutes later.
Lukas picked up the phone, excitement lighting up his face.
"Get to London, now."
(What?)
"Listen, it's an amazing offer."
Barely had Lukas finished explaining when Faber responded with sharp sarcasm.
(If you want to get scammed, do it alone. Why drag me into it?)
"Always so suspicious."
Lukas adjusted the receiver and continued.
"You know John Green, right? The shoe manufacturer. You once said you'd love to buy something for your dad from him."
(When did I say that?)
This guy has the nerve to pretend he didn't say it after making such a big deal about it back then. Just embarrassed, maybe?
"Anyway, our boss is someone who's managed to work with the high-and-mighty John Green."
(…)
"You think John Green got fooled too? Really?"
(I'm not interested.)
"Didn't you say you didn't have anything else to do? Why're you being so difficult?"
(You don't know my rebellious streak by now?)
"Oh, I know. I feel it acutely, believe me."
Faber's always taken pride in pushing against the established order. Maybe that's why…
(I have no intention of taking orders from anyone.)
Seems he'd rather die than work under someone else.
(I'd rather stay free and go hungry for life…)
"Right, free."
(What?)
"Come here and work the way you want, on your own terms."
(What are you talking about?)
"I mean exactly that."
(Why would I get paid to do whatever I want?)
How would I know?
But how could I tell him that?
"Anyway, you can create anything you dream of. Use the finest materials, print thousands of copies even if none sell—it doesn't matter. Just do whatever you want."
(What is he, my mom or something?)
"Not even your mom would go this far."
(What makes him trust me so much…?)
"So, are you coming or not?"
It was an ultimatum. Lukas looked ready to hang up any second now.
(I really get to do whatever I want?)
For the first time, Faber spoke in a serious tone.
***
That night.
Olivia received a call late in the evening, informing her that Sir Lewis had granted permission to set up the shop. It wasn't far from home, so she decided to go check it out.
With everything cleared out, it seemed…
"Bigger than I thought."
Olivia slowly walked around the room, mentally picturing the layout. She considered the wallpaper color, the furniture, the number of mannequins, and so on.
She wasn't sure how long she had been there, but as the empty room began to take shape in her mind, she heard a knock from behind.
Huh? Do I have to leave already?
"They said I could use the space freely for now."
She quickly opened the door, finding Sir Lewis outside as expected.
"There's a delivery for Mr. Jihoon."
"Oh, I can take it."
"But, actually…"
"…?"
"There's quite a lot of it, and some of the items are hard to bring inside."
"What do you mean?"
Sir Lewis motioned for her to follow him, as if to say she'd understand when she saw it.
Outside the tailor shop, a middle-aged man in a trench coat was waiting. When he saw Olivia, he gave a polite bow.
"It's from the chairman."
The chairman? Which chairman?
"When I called the CEO, he told me to bring it here."
"Did he say it was okay for me to receive it?"
"Yes, he said it was at Miss Olivia's request."
Did I request this?
A question mark floated above her head for a moment.
"Ah!"
It's the vintage Rolex.
But then, what on earth? In front of her wasn't a watch, but a large motorcycle.
Sensing her confusion, the man cautiously spoke.
"You initially requested a watch, but knowing the chairman's personality, he couldn't just send that alone."
"…?"
"This is a surprise gift from the chairman."
Pointing at the motorcycle as he said it!
"Since the CEO is in the UK, the chairman thought it fitting to prepare a British bike. If I may specify the model…"
"I know."
"Excuse me?"
"It's a Triumph Speed Twin. The legendary model released in 1937."
"I'm honestly impressed you recognized it at a glance."
She's the type whose blood runs hot at the sight of wheels. Thanks to her father's influence, her heart always beats twice as fast when she sees a classic model.
And now!
They'd brought her a model from fifty years ago, no less, gleaming as if it had just rolled off the production line.
It was truly mesmerizing.
The bike's allure made her feel as if she might be drawn into it, and she quickly looked away.
"Sorry, but a '37 Speed Twin in this condition—how much would that cost?"
At Olivia's question, the man made a regretful expression.
"Unfortunately, it's not a model you can simply buy, even with money. It's so old, and finding one in such pristine condition is nearly impossible."
"And he just gave it to me?"
"If you'd accept it, he'd give you even more."
What kind of connection did they have?
While she marveled at this, the man retrieved a small box from the parked car.
"This is the 1871 Patek Philippe the CEO requested."
Unbelievable!
She'd dismissed Rolexes from the 1900s as nothing special, but they'd actually procured a Patek Philippe from the 1800s.
"Are you planning to wear it?"
"No, definitely not."
"Then is it for display?"
She nodded.
"Would you like us to set it up for you?"
"Set it up?"
"We brought the same setup as the museum display."
Ha!
Today is full of surprises.
"Please… go ahead."
Even as she said this, Olivia's gaze lingered on the 1937 Triumph Speed Twin.