Incomplete

The deposit went through the very next day.

Staring at an account balance stamped with a sum I had never seen in my life, a confidence I had never felt before rose up in me. I could have smiled and let it roll off even if someone stood in front of me and cursed me out.

So this was the security the haves had always enjoyed. The knowledge that if things went south, I could hit anyone I wanted and not have to worry about it — that, if anything, put me at ease.

This was why you had to make money.

I wanted to brag to my father, who'd recently failed in business, but I was a dutiful daughter, so I held my tongue. I only called my grandfather, to ask if there was anything he wanted.

Grandfather had been having a hard time getting around lately, and was considering whether he needed to go into a nursing hospital. Dad seemed to keep pushing for it, but Grandfather didn't seem particularly keen. Once he went in, he wouldn't be able to live as freely as he did now.

"Your granddaughter's making good money, you know. I'll buy you anything. Just say the word."

I always ended up talking to Grandfather the way a child would. Even at his fully grown granddaughter's bragging, he just laughed.

"Your granddaughter's already thirty-three and you're telling her to buy snacks."

"That's not what I meant."

He really wouldn't believe that his granddaughter had money. I couldn't tell him I'd squeezed five hundred million won out of Kang Sa-eon, so I promised I'd come by soon and we'd eat snacks together. Secrecy was a condition of the deal, after all.

But even after the money went through, nearly a week passed without a word from Kang Sa-eon.

This wasn't like him. From the moment we'd signed the contract, he'd been going on about how it took effect immediately.

I thought back to the last evening we'd spent together.

That night, Kang Sa-eon had been a little... off.

Awkward, stiff, hovering at a strange distance. He hadn't even taken me home. For once he'd been driving himself, so I'd thought he meant to put on a show of being in a relationship — but then he'd called his driver and gone home alone.

People don't change.

He'd treated me to a full, delicious meal at a nice restaurant, so I had no complaints. Compared to the old days, when he'd often leave me behind at the table, this was downright gentlemanly. Even the times I'd had to eat alone at a restaurant reserved for two, I'd held my own. A little sadness, a little wretchedness — that didn't make the food taste any worse.

But that night, it hadn't seemed like anything urgent had come up.

Had I gotten too close, after all? Maybe he'd bolted straight for the bathroom. Maybe it was his idea of consideration — not throwing up right in my face. If you could call that consideration.

Where was the line?

How much of me would Kang Sa-eon tolerate? How much of him was I allowed to touch?

I wanted to make the most of this last chance. I needed to know what I could do, and how far I could go.

Thick veins had stood out on the back of his clenched fist. I'd gone for it figuring he'd shove me off if he hated it — but the way he'd gone deathly pale, breaking into a cold sweat, barely holding on, had been almost pitiful. How was he supposed to pretend to be anyone's lover like that?

If we couldn't close the distance, we might fool people who didn't know us — but I didn't think we could fool the Chairman.

"Chae-yoon, what are you thinking about?"

Choi Eun-gyeol, eating across from me, asked.

"You've been acting really suspicious lately. You know that? Bursting into a smile in the middle of work. What's got you so happy?"

"I'm dating."

"Did you get a pupp— wait, what?"

"I'm dating."

"You? Dating?"

Why was that surprising?

I stared at Eun-gyeol, whose mouth had fallen open. Was this something I ought to get angry about, as rude? Of course, we'd joined the company together, and we'd been lunch friends for years, so I knew there was no malice in it.

"What? People date. Is it that shocking?"

"No, but I thought you weren't interested in dating..."

"I've been going on blind dates plenty."

I'd even dated, briefly. If a week counted as dating, I'd seen a whole three people.

"Exactly."

I didn't see how going on lots of blind dates connected to not being interested in dating via an "exactly." When I tilted my head, Eun-gyeol scrambled to explain.

"No matter who I set you up with, you never met anyone you liked. Doesn't that mean you weren't interested in anyone?"

Eun-gyeol had set me up on blind dates three times herself. My conscience gave a guilty little poke.

"It wasn't that I wasn't interested. I'd had a crush for a long time, but there was no chance it'd ever work out. I'd given up and was just living my life — and then, luckily, it turned out the feeling was mutual."

"Wow. Talk about beating the odds."

I just laughed.

"That's right. A triumph of the human spirit."

"So that's why you've been going around smiling. Who is it? What's he like? Is he good to you?"

Well, I wouldn't know — I haven't been able to see his face. I laughed it off.

"I'll tell you everything soon."

If my prediction was right, Eun-gyeol would find out who I was dating before I ever had to say it myself.

Kang Sa-eon was a man packed tight with spite and sheer bloody-mindedness, but surprisingly, his patience didn't run deep except when it came to things that actually mattered. He'd been the one in a hurry — enough to hand over five hundred million won — so a call should be coming any time now. Eighteen years of data said so.

And sure enough, on the way back from the company cafeteria, Kang Sa-eon called.

For someone from a distinguished family, he was no gentleman.

"Hey, babe."

"Where do you think? Heading back up from lunch. Have you eaten?"

"You should talk nicer than that. Where are you, babe?"

I turned around. Kang Sa-eon was standing at the cafeteria entrance, looking thoroughly fed up.

Ah, he really was disgusted. I could tell easily enough why he was in a bad mood. For someone who'd spent his whole life under other people's eyes, he had a pathological horror of being talked about.

I excused myself to Eun-gyeol and headed toward him. Then I gave the space between his brows a couple of light taps. I wasn't hoping to make him laugh, but frowning was a problem. At my gesture, Kang Sa-eon smoothed out the crease.

"What about my face."

"You should smile, babe."

"Babe?"

I opened both hands. Kang Sa-eon stared at my palms, puzzled.

"What are you doing?"

Moving slowly so I wouldn't startle or unnerve him, I closed my hands around his. At the same instant, the murmuring noise around us vanished.

As if he'd grasped my intent, Kang Sa-eon was surprisingly compliant. He didn't shake off my hand — instead, he slowly drew it in and held on. Fingers slotted between fingers, and I found myself pressed right up against him.

"Is that all?"

"Don't get cocky. What, you want a kiss too? You'd pass out."

Kang Sa-eon didn't say no. Instead, he lowered his face and murmured.

"Father wants to see you."

"I'm on the clock."

"Just say the Chairman called."

He was talking nonsense. Then again, a third-generation chaebol born with a silver spoon wouldn't know the first thing about ordinary people's labor — or rather, their working conditions — so I had to make allowances. Out of habit, I ratcheted up my understanding to match him and picked up my phone. I needed to put in for a half-day. Fortunately, our team wasn't in a busy period, and our team leader was the type to be reasonably considerate of personal circumstances. Besides, it wouldn't even take an hour before everyone knew why I'd taken the half-day.

So more people could see, I gave Kang Sa-eon's hand — claimed like a trophy — a little shake for no reason. Then I looked up at him looking down at me. If I rose up just a little on my toes, my lips would reach that sharp jaw.

"What are you looking at."

"Smile at me. Sweetly."

"......"

A short sigh stirred my hair.

Live long enough and you see everything. Close enough to feel Kang Sa-eon's breath. I laced my fingers through his index finger and held on.

That handsome mouth struggled to curve into an arc. The smiling face he'd manufactured looked, to me, merely ridiculous and cute — but to everyone else, it probably looked plenty affectionate.

Holding onto his index finger, I burned that face into my eyes.

The clumsy curve of his mouth was so cute a little wheeze of laughter escaped me. Apparently thinking I was laughing at him, he threatened me fiercely.

"Don't laugh..."

"It's because you're cute. Because you're cute."

"That's ridiculous."

Kang Sa-eon wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Surprisingly, his hand wasn't shaking. There was tension in his fingertips, though.

A tender smile, this kind of closeness, and getting paid for it.

Could it get any better than this?

"That good, huh."

"It is."

You are.

"Well, five hundred million won isn't exactly small change."

The money was good, too.

Ah, I was delighted.

Five years now since I'd joined Gangju Group.

I was a lowly deputy manager who'd barely ever met a division head, let alone the Chairman — but the man in front of me was closer to the uncle next door.

"It's been a while, Chae-yoon."

The uncle who'd sit near Jeong-i Halmae's bed while I read to her, peeling tangerines or apples or peaches to pass over.

I used to think that cool, easy smile looked nothing like Kang Sa-eon.

"You two are seeing each other?"

Now that I looked, this father and son were the spitting image of each other.