Off Leash

Seomoon Department Store was a major retail chain operating eight branches in the capital region alone. Hae-soo had been assigned to the flagship location—the highest-grossing and largest of them all—and the days that followed were accordingly relentless.

"These are this week's gift-with-purchase promotions. The qualifying amounts differ by item, so make sure you memorize them carefully... Oh, you do know about the training session this afternoon, right? Don't be late for that."

Because it was a place that sold goods, far more of the work had to be learned on the sales floor than in an office. Starting from the trivial task of directing customers to the right aisle, she moved through floor management, meetings with brand representatives, and compiling and analyzing sales figures, picking up the practical ins and outs of department store operations as she went.

Of course, she couldn't afford to skip the various training sessions, presentations, and tests scattered in between. Not for a single moment could she forget that she was being evaluated. The manager and the assistant manager who oversaw the first half of the internship both insisted on being called mentors rather than bosses, but whenever Hae-soo thought of the performance reviews waiting at the tip of their pens, she could never quite let go of that taut string of tension.

Is he mad that I keep putting it off?

Hae-soo tilted her head at the silent messenger window. He'd read her message but hadn't replied. Was he busy? Or was it a glitch? She closed and reopened the innocent app, but the screen looked exactly the same.

"Ugh. Honestly, at this point it doesn't feel like I'm drinking coffee so much as getting a transfusion."

Just as she was deliberating whether to send one more message, Jae-joon slurped audibly on his straw and grumbled beside her. He'd stayed up all night writing a proposal, and his bleary eyes gave him the unmistakable look of a zombie. They were in similarly sorry straits, so his misery somehow felt like her own.

"Want another one? It's on me today." Hae-soo readily recalled that he had bought her coffee just yesterday. Truthfully, the best policy was neither mooching nor treating, but once you got to know people, that was easier said than done.

What comes in must go out. As Hae-soo picked up her wallet and rose to leave, Jae-joon hastily grabbed her wrist.

"No way. You've already blown way past the recommended caffeine limit. Any more and your heart's going to explode."

"Oh. Really?"

"Chew on some ice instead. One all-nighter isn't going to kill you."

Hae-soo gave a dry laugh and gave her trapped wrist a sly twist. Startled—ack!—he let go and sheepishly scratched the back of his head. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, but he clearly wasn't in a normal state.

"Seriously, I'm going straight to bed the second I clock out today. Keep this up and I'll be dead before they make me a full employee. Oh, Hae-soo, you're off tomorrow, right?"

"Yes."

"Hnngh, must be nice."

"Nice, my foot. I have to put together an entire presentation."

"Aargh, that damn presentation!"

Just as Jae-joon was grimacing at the mere thought of it, Assistant Manager Han Yoo-joo, who had stepped out to take a call, came over, the hem of her black flared skirt fluttering. Twenty-seven years old and promoted to assistant manager only three years after joining the company, she was, in Hae-soo's eyes, the very model of the ideal professional she dreamed of becoming.

Will I be like that in three or four years too? As Hae-soo gazed at her with admiration, Han announced the end of her honeyed rest.

"All right, everyone—if you've finished digesting, shall we get back to it?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Hae-soo and Jae-joon, who had been moaning like invalids only moments before, snapped to attention with crisp replies. Apparently intending to continue the floor work, Han led the way not toward the office but toward the women's wear section. Scrambling after her, Hae-soo stole a glance at her phone.

No new messages. A vague unease crept over her for no good reason.

"Um, do you see that tall man over there in the store?"

The source of that unease was sitting at the tip of Han Yoo-joo's pointed finger. Pressing her lips firmly together, Hae-soo listened to her mentor's careful voice. Otherwise, an inappropriate laugh might have escaped her.

"Who...? Oh, the customer in the black T-shirt?"

Jae-joon craned his neck in the direction Han was pointing, squinting. The man was certainly towering enough that the single description of "tall" made him easy to spot.

"Yes, that's him. Black T-shirt. Neither of you has seen him before, right? Do you know who he is?"

Oh, do I ever. That's my sort-of boyfriend who's ignoring my texts while he shops.

Swallowing the bile rising in her throat, Hae-soo stared from a distance at Yul as he prowled the store. Busy, my eye. He's sulking. He's got me over here imagining every scenario under the sun while he leisurely checks out the new arrivals. His hand flicked hangers back one after another with a briskness that looked infuriatingly cheerful.

"No idea... Who is he? At a glance he looks almost like a celebrity or something."

"He's our vice president's nephew."

"Huh—our Vice President Seo Moon-seok?"

"Yes. To be more specific, he's the son of Director Seo Moon-gyu and CEO Lim Hee-ryeong."

"Whoa... a genuinely real gold spoon."

"Right? So take this chance to burn his face into your memory. People like us will probably never cross paths with him directly, but you never know."

"Yes, ma'am! Understood!"

Jae-joon answered at the top of his lungs, brimming with martial spirit. Which made Hae-soo's wordless silence stand out all the more. Sensing something off, Han gave her shoulder a light tap and tossed out a joke.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?"

"...Sorry, what?"

"I get it—speechless. I nearly died the first time I saw him too. I remember thinking, how does anyone on this planet get born that unfairly blessed?"

Han Yoo-joo wore the indulgent expression of someone who completely understood. Unable to bring herself to say otherwise in front of her, Hae-soo clumsily changed the subject.

"Uh, does he, um, come to our branch often?"

"Hmm, two or three times a month, like clockwork, I'd say. Not constantly, but not rarely either?"

"He must be a VVIP, obviously."

Jae-joon cut in abruptly from the side. Han gave him a what kind of question is that look and nodded.

"Of course he is. He's Royal tier."

Which meant his purchases the previous year had totaled at least a hundred million won. Jae-joon's mouth fell open in a silent whoa as he stared in stunned awe at Yul through the glass wall.

"Man, that's giving me an existential crisis. He looks way younger than me."

"Oh, please—if that's what breaks you, this job will eat you alive. This is a department store, where kids barely out of school run around in clothes worth millions of won."

"Huh... fair point, actually."

"It's easiest to just think, that's where my paycheck comes from. Some employees can't stomach it—all this talk of relative deprivation—and they quit... Hmm, but here's my take: they're comparing themselves to the wrong thing to begin with. People like him had it all from the moment they were born—cord still attached, essentially. Short of being reborn, there is absolutely no catching up to that."

While Han Yoo-joo and Jae-joon traded lines back and forth, Yul was selecting clothes with solemn concentration. He'd slide a hanger out, turn the garment around front and back, then hand it to the employee standing beside him. By that point he'd already passed over a good five outfits in mere minutes. How much is all that, anyway? Han murmured under her breath, clasping her hands together in front of her chest.

"Looks like our dear nephew is about to pump up today's sales figures too."

"No kidding. That sales associate's bonus this month is going to be fat."

"That's why everyone scrambles to schmooze him the second he shows up."

"I mean, I would too... Huh? I think he's looking our way..."

Jae-joon, who had been nodding along breathlessly to every word, suddenly trailed off. And no wonder—Yul's gaze really was fixed on this side. On Hae-soo's face, to be exact.

Well, well—look who it is. That was the expression he wore.

Hae-soo flinched and instinctively took a step backward. He curved his lips into an insolent little smile, then said something to the employee guarding his side, as if making a point of it. And then he left the store. His footsteps, unhesitating, carried him in long strides across the luxury hall's corridor.