A few days later, Ga-young sat opposite Min-jae. He took his time sipping his coffee, eyes trained on the workers moving around the space, while Ga-young's fingers flew across her laptop keys.
"You know you didn't need to come here yourselves," she said, not lifting her eyes from the screen.
Min-jae set his mug down with a quiet exhale. "Sometimes, if you want things done accurately, you have to do them yourself."
Ga-young finally looked up, meeting his gaze. "Right now, they're just suffocated and terrified by your presence."
"If that's what it takes to get a perfect result," he replied, lifting the mug again, "I don't really mind."
She pressed her lips together. "You're very hard to convince."
"It's three weeks to the show," he said evenly. "You can't expect me to be lenient."
"Yes, sir," she replied lazily with a nod, her tone faintly amused.
Team leader Baek-sun approached them with a practiced smile. The closer he came, the more that confidence drained. Min-jae glanced at him from the corner of his eye as he raised the mug to his lips.
"Sir," Baek-sun began cautiously. "May we take a short break?"
Min-jae didn't rush his response. "A break?" he repeated calmly. "Out of three signature pieces, only one is complete. Let's not even mention the sixty-seven supporting pieces or the twenty-four children's designs. And you're asking for a break?"
The authority in his voice was quiet,but absolute.
"My apologies, sir," Baek-sun said, bowing quickly before retreating just as fast.
Min-jae scoffed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Can you imagine this?" he muttered. "Am I being unreasonable, or do they need to be fired?"
Ga-young leaned back slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Not everyone works well under tension," she said softly, clearly daring him to disagree.
"If anyone here is tense," Min-jae replied smoothly, "it's me, Secretary Choi."
"Then maybe," she said, closing her laptop, "you should take a brief walk."
He studied her for a moment. "Ninety-four pieces," he breathed under his breath. Then he nodded. "I might need that walk."
She smiled to herself and gestured for him to go ahead.
Minutes later, they stood outside the building, fresh air washing over them. Min-jae exhaled slowly, shoulders loosening as he let the quiet settle into him.
Suddenly, Ga-young squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing at them with a frustrated groan. "Ah—seriously…"
"Are you okay?" Min-jae asked at once.
"I think something got into my eye," she said, still rubbing. "It's fine—"
He stepped closer instinctively, catching her wrists. "You'll only hurt yourself if you keep itching," he said, then paused. "Tilt your head back."
Before she could react, he gently tipped her chin upward. "Blink a few times. Let me see."
She blinked once.
Then she opened her eyes fully, straight into his.
He froze.
A mischievous smile spread across her face. "I have nothing decent to say right now," she murmured, tilting her head just slightly.
Min-jae stepped back as if burned, turning away. "I thought something actually went into your eye."
"Only your beauty," Ga-young said easily, then laughed. "Why are your ears so red? Are you alright?"
He cleared his throat. "We should go back. I'm sure they—" He stopped himself. "Let's go inside."
He walked ahead quickly.
Ga-young watched him for a moment before following, amusement dancing in her eyes.
What is this? she thought. He's even easier than I expected.
Meanwhile, behind the thick walls of the highest room in K&H Restaurant, the CEO's office, Ji-uk and Yun-ho sat opposite each other, quietly shaping what the upcoming event would become.
Yun-ho had his notebook flipped open, pen resting loosely between his fingers.
"So," he said, glancing up, "what kind of tasting are we talking about?"
"A controlled one," Ji-uk replied smoothly.
"Not a spectacle. I want people to remember the food, not feel overwhelmed by it."
Yun-ho nodded once. "New menu?"
"Partially. I want to test six dishes. Two are safe. Four can push a little, but not into reckless territory."
The corner of Yun-ho's mouth lifted. "Define reckless."
"Anything that sounds impressive but doesn't make someone want a second bite," Ji-uk said, folding his arms. "Flavor comes first."
Yun-ho nodded in agreement.
Ji-uk slid a slim folder across the table. "This is our audience. Regulars, a few investors, no critics. I want them curious, comfortable, and slightly impressed."
Yun-ho skimmed through it. "Portions?"
"Tasting sizes, but honest ones. I don't want anyone leaving hungry or confused."
"I see," he said, jotting something down. "Any hard restrictions?"
"Seasonal ingredients only. No imported drama. And everything has to be scalable. If they love it, we should be able to serve it on a busy Friday night."
Yun-ho looked up at that. "You're thinking long term."
"I believe it's only wise to," Ji-uk replied, leaning back.
There was a brief pause.
"I can work with that," Yun-ho said, closing his notebook.
Just as Ji-uk was about to reply, the door flung open.
"Hey! Hwan Ji-uk!"
Ye-seul barged in, clearly fuming. It took only a second for her eyes to land on Yun-ho, who now stared back at her, puzzled but polite. In that moment, she sincerely wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
"What now?" Ji-uk said flatly. "I'm busy."
Yun-ho gave a small bow in greeting before turning back to Ji-uk. "I'll send you a draft menu by Friday."
"Good," Ji-uk replied, standing. "Surprise me like you do with all your clients, will you?" A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Of course," Yun-ho said, returning the bow before walking out.
The moment the door closed, Ye-seul let out a heavy exhale, clutching her chest as she collapsed onto the couch.
"Why are you here?" Ji-uk asked abruptly.
"I can't even remember anymore," she groaned. "I'm finished."
"You like him?" Ji-uk asked, sounding almost bored.
That made Ye-seul sit upright.
"Is it obvious?" she asked, suddenly curious.
Instead of answering, Ji-uk burst into loud laughter, the kind that made his mockery painfully clear.
"Why are you like this?" Ye-seul said, clearly hurt.
"Hey, Hwan Ye-seul," Ji-uk said between chuckles. "Do you really think you can bag him? You think you can have Yun-ho? Really?"
"You're the worst," she snapped, standing up.
"It was a question," Ji-uk shrugged.
"I hate you," she said, storming out.
Ji-uk leaned back against his desk, still amused.
"Jung Yun-ho," he muttered to himself. "Really?"