The Resignation That Never Reached Him

How many people on this earth could describe the feeling of having their resignation blocked by their own boss?

Submit this to one of those exposé channels about toxic workplaces and surely they'd send you a gift card or something for the story.

And so Haeseo spent yet another day glaring at the messenger screen where that stubborn little "1" refused to disappear, before finally letting out a long sigh.

No.

How does this make any sense?

"You could at least say something. Seriously, where else would you find a jerk like this?"

She'd tried calling days ago, too, but it seemed he'd blocked her number entirely — all she got was a bland automated message.

One day, fine. Two days, sure. He might be hurt. He might have been blindsided and needed time. She made every effort to be understanding. But as the week wore on, Haeseo found it harder and harder to wait things out with any goodwill.

Oh, Baek Ruby, you little brat!

Looking for all the world like a gentle, easygoing mastiff, and yet inside he was as temperamental as a cat. It was as if someone had shoved the wrong soul into his body.

Finished with her shower of rage, Haeseo emerged with something dangerously close to resolve and pulled a can of beer from the fridge. Haeseo was a spectacular lightweight — even half a 330ml can was enough to send a pleasant buzz swimming through her head. That was why she never drank outside, though every now and then, when the craving for a little rebellion struck, she would steel herself and drink beer alone at home.

"It's Friday, so I'm drinking myself to death."

She was on a work hiatus anyway, so what did it matter? This was just an extension of all that workplace stress.

The can hissed open with a crisp crackle of escaping carbon, and the first sip slid down smooth. Funny how good the beer tasted tonight. Glug, glug — she was halfway through the can when the phone rang.

"Pwah."

She set the can down and picked up her phone to find a familiar name on the screen.

One of the very few friends Ruby had among the chaebol set. But he had never once called her directly. Of all times. Feeling the alcohol creep up her cheeks, Haeseo cleared her throat with a deep ahem and answered.

"Hello, Director. This is Wi Haeseo."

―Ah, Secretary Wi! You picked up right away! Thank goodness.

That cheerful, utterly carefree laughter of his came booming down the line — hahaha — the same as always. A slow unease stirred awake in Haeseo.

―Ruby's here at our hotel right now. Come get him, would you? He's a sloppy drunk and he's driving me up the wall.

Jigang, slandering the man even as his own tongue curled hopelessly from the drink, had clearly been enjoying a proper Friday-night binge himself.

Haeseo hung up, promised she'd come, and — out of pure habit — reached for her car keys before spotting the half-finished beer can sitting on the table.

"Ah."

He could have called five minutes earlier. She was already worried her head wasn't on straight, but having received this call, backing out wasn't an option. With a deep sigh, Haeseo clutched her corporate card tight and stepped out of the apartment.

"Here, over here."

When she made her way to the private room in the hotel bar — location shared by text — Jigang was waiting outside, his face flushed a rosy red and grinning ear to ear.

"Wow, sprinting over here in the dead of night. If Ruby knew, his jaw would hit the floor."

It's work, so there's nothing strange about it.

"So why are you trying to quit, anyway? Did Ruby get on your nerves? He pesters you too much, like a little kid?"

Haeseo held her silence, and Jigang's mouth tugged downward in a pout as he pressed. Ah. So that's what they'd been gossiping about over drinks. Haeseo scratched at the back of her neck, sheepish.

"It's nothing like that. I just wanted a break, and it seemed like good timing. As you know, he's headed to the States soon. Even if I didn't quit, he should have been the one wrapping things up first."

The corner of Haeseo's mouth lifted. In truth, she had been the one to declare her departure first. Because she refused to be part of a picture in which Baek Ruby was the one saying goodbye to her. It was a petty little pride, buried deep in her heart.

They call it the Zero-Farewells, Dump-Him-First Technique. Naturally, I'm the one doing the dumping.

"Aw, my poor Ruby, I can't stand it."

Jigang let out a theatrical wail, then rummaged through his pant pockets front and back until he fished out a pack of cigarettes.

"Anyway, you're still his secretary for now, right?"

"Yes."

"Then take good care of Ruby. I'm off."

With nothing more than that, Jigang waved a breezy hand and strolled away. Could she really let a drunk man wander off like that? Haeseo narrowed her eyes, then decided that even if he face-planted on the way out, it would still be inside Allmaps Hotel — hardly a crisis — and turned toward the door. What mattered was the boss waiting inside.

She shouldered open the deceptively heavy door and stepped through. Haeseo knew the hotel well — Ruby used it often — but this was her first time in the private rooms of the bar itself.

Come to think of it, in three whole years she had never once seen Ruby drink. A completely wasted Ruby...

"Excuse me."

The room was dim almost to the point of blackness, deliberately so, it seemed. A low glass table sat at the center, ringed by plush velvet sofas. Bottles and glasses, plates of fruit and other light snacks lay scattered carelessly across its surface — the wreckage of a shared nightcap.

In a room spacious enough for ten, Ruby alone occupied the very center of the middle sofa, legs spread wide apart. The fabric of his trousers pulled taut, tracing the full line of his thick thighs.

His silhouette, drawn whole against the dark, looked somehow larger than usual, impossibly heavy. As though a man had been carved out of solid rock. The sheer mass of him seemed to press against her through sight alone, and Haeseo swallowed dryly. The buzz she'd calmed in the taxi was creeping back, thudding against her heart.

"Haaah..."

Ruby, who had been hunched forward with both elbows propped on his knees, dragged his head up slowly and lifted his face.

His eyes caught the darkness and gleamed as if lit from within. So much so that they looked, at a glance, faintly red.

He's frightening. For the first time since she'd known him, the thought flashed through Haeseo's mind. Thud, thud, thud. Her heart picked up speed.

"Well, look who it is."

"...Let's go home, Team Leader."

"Wi Haeseo, running off the second she sees me."

His lips curled in a smirk, and he gave his usual easy laugh.

Running off? She didn't want to hear that from the man who blocked her number. Only then did Haeseo let her guard slip a fraction, stepping carefully into the room, one measured step at a time.

Up close, the fierce scent of whisky rolled off him like cologne. His pupils, slightly unfocused, his movements gone sluggish — everything about him announced exactly how drunk he was.

"Why did you drink this much?"

"Didn't drink."

The feigned innocence, at least, came out perfectly clear. Had they spoken over the phone, she might actually have been fooled.

"I'm taking you home. Can you stand up?"

"Not standing."

"......"

Strip away the content, and it was the pure, uncut petulance of a blackout drunk.

Haeseo lightly smacked her own forehead and slipped into the narrow gap between the table and the sofa. It was tighter than she'd expected, so she waddled sideways in a clumsy shuffle until she stood before Ruby.

"Team Leader. Snap out of it."

Haeseo gripped Ruby's shoulders and gave him a light shake, intending to rouse him. That was the plan, anyway. The problem was that she'd only ever seen how broad his shoulders were — she'd never actually touched them.

And since Ruby's legs were splayed apart, she was standing off to his side rather than squarely in front of him. She spread her hands, figuring roughly this wide should do it, and reached for his shoulders —

"Hwah?"

Her right hand landed squarely on his left shoulder, but her left palm found nothing to hold near the back of his neck and simply slid, clean off, down and away.

Losing her balance entirely, Haeseo toppled forward onto Ruby's body. In that split second, a chilling jolt of danger seized her. If this kept up — if she kept falling — her face was about to bury itself right into the crook of Ruby's neck...!

"No!"

Whether her desperate cry had reached him or not, Haeseo stopped — seized in an unyielding grip. The moment she registered that the force locking her hands was Ruby's own grip strength, she found herself hoisted into the air like a plush toy in a claw machine, and then set down between his thighs.

Ruby drew her small hands up onto his shoulders, settled them there, and flashed a grin.

"Can't even manage this one thing. Silly."

Heat flooded her face like water coming to a boil, and she could feel it happening in real time. Thank god for the darkness. She had no idea how red she'd gone, not even a guess.

Her heart raced at the drop of a hat, sure, but she'd never been the type to wear it on her face. She was delivering the same sharp rebuke as always — so was it that the edge had drained clean out of Ruby's voice tonight?

He'd looked ready to bite an intruder's throat out a moment ago, and now he was smiling like an innocent child. What was she supposed to do with that.

"Pull yourself together."

Grip. For no particular reason she dug her fingers harder into his shoulders and shook him with everything she had. It was an act, an overdone performance to hide her fluster — but Ruby's upper body didn't budge an inch.

Is this a marble statue or what.

"Haeseo..."

Utterly unmoved, Ruby stared at her, and his gaze slowly, steadily melted into something hazy. And yet, strangely, none of his presence drained away.

Under that gaze, Haeseo felt the strength slip from her hands without her meaning to let it go.

"Sit with me a while. You came all this way — leaving right away would hurt my feelings. Hmm? Let's talk."

Ruby guided her, easy and natural, to sit up on the glass table. Clink, clatter — the glasses and plates her body had crowded against came crashing down in a chorus of noise.

Water spilled from a toppled bottle, seeping in under her thighs and pooling beneath her.