She Doesn't Suit Him

The main gate of Hyunjin Group headquarters. The moment a black sedan, flashing in the sunlight, rolled through, the executives who had been waiting surged out in a rush.

They fell into two familiar lines and bent at the waist toward the woman stepping from the back seat.

"I told you to stop with this. What era do you think we're living in?"

The woman with a bob that brushed her chin shaded her eyes against the fierce noon sun and walked on into the building. Her looks were so carefully kept that no one would have dared imagine she had a grown son in his mid-thirties. She led the way with a restrained beauty and an elegance refined over long years—the head of Hyunjin, and the first female owner among the top ten conglomerates to hold the post of group chairwoman.

"Chairwoman. Miss Han Joo-hee has been waiting for an hour."

"Who?"

"Miss Han Joo-hee."

"And who is that?"

"The second daughter of Seoul Mayor Han Kang-il, and President Cha Seol-woo's fiancée."

"You should have said it that way if you wanted me to understand."

The chief of staff who stayed at her side lifted a tablet and showed her several photographs of Joo-hee. Curious as she was about news of her son, she didn't even know the name of the woman who would be her daughter-in-law in three months. She was every bit as indifferent as the Cha family.

"What would you like to do?"

"How much time do I have?"

"About thirty minutes free."

"Ugh. I was hoping to rest. How did she even know today was the day I come into headquarters?"

"Because you come in at this hour every Friday. An internet search would tell her as much."

She hadn't been asking for an answer. Hwa-jin glared at Seong-jae, who delivered the correct reply so neatly, and stepped into the elevator. For more than twenty years he had been a stiff secretary without flattery, pretense, or lies—and an old friend.

"What did you say her name was?"

"Han Joo-hee, thirty-two. A pianist, currently an adjunct professor at the College of Music of her alma mater, Hankuk University, and known to be preparing a solo recital for the first half of next year."

"She's only two years older than Seol-woo?"

"You would have seen her at the families' formal meeting, but it seems you don't remember her at all."

"Exactly. They must not have suited each other in the slightest. My mind's a complete blank."

"The wedding is three months away."

"So what? If he changes his mind, that boy would overturn it the day before."

Hwa-jin smiled crookedly as she stepped into the lobby outside her office. Joo-hee, who had been sitting off to one side of the secretarial suite, shot to her feet to greet her.

"Hello, Mother."

"Of course. You've been well too, Joo-hee?"

"Please, speak comfortably."

"Shall I? Let's go in first."

Hwa-jin's voice came out warm. She was a woman who had long since mastered the business of handling people. Watching her offer a gentle smile to Joo-hee, in whom she had not so much as a fingernail's interest, Seong-jae shook his head and went to prepare the tea himself.

"Oh, it's so clean and luxurious. The atmosphere is a lot like Seol-woo's office."

"His taste takes after me. His looks are half mine, but his personality is his father to the bone. Sit. There isn't much to look at."

Joo-hee, who had been taking in the breadth of the office, swept her fluttering skirt aside and sat on the sofa. From the seat of honor, Hwa-jin studied her with a soft gaze. Neither the face nor the age greatly satisfied her as the mother of an exceptional son, but her father-in-law, Cha Seong-tae, seemed determined to keep a close tie with the presidential contender he was cultivating himself.

Seong-jae came in during a brief lull and set two cups of green tea on the table.

"I hope I didn't come at a busy time?"

"I happen to have about thirty minutes to spare. I'm curious what brought you so suddenly."

"I haven't seen you even once since the families met. I wanted to grow a little closer before the wedding, too. There's no great business!"

"Do you see Seol-woo often?"

"No. Seol-woo is terribly busy as well."

Joo-hee couldn't hide her disappointment; her mouth tightened with it. Knowing that Seol-woo had rented a suite only yesterday and gone on a lavish shopping trip, Hwa-jin felt a laugh rise at the girl's words. Even if the marriage went through, it was plain as day that this one would never be loved for the rest of her life.

"What is it you like about our Seol-woo?"

This was no marriage of convenience on her side. Expectation and excitement she couldn't conceal filled her eyes, along with a hunger to be married as soon as possible.

"Everything."

"Even after the engagement, he seems to be seeing other women. You agreed to understand each other, didn't you?"

"We did, but I wish he wouldn't. I just can't say it to Seol-woo. Couldn't you say a word to him, Mother?"

"Well. If that was a condition, it ought to be kept, shouldn't it? I'm a businesswoman who's been through an arranged marriage myself, so I'm cold about these things."

The anxiety of failing to win Seol-woo's heart showed through without disguise. Raised as a hothouse flower beneath a politician father, Joo-hee could not help thinking differently from an entrepreneur who prized terms and contracts and weighed profit and loss without sentiment.

"Yes, you're right. I'll have to try harder. Haha."

Joo-hee let out an awkward laugh. Hwa-jin was a far more uncomfortable presence than Seol-woo's grandfather, Honorary Chairman Cha Seong-tae. The old man at least doted on her like a granddaughter. Hwa-jin kept a kind, pleasant smile, yet never offered the smallest opening to draw near, and Joo-hee felt herself shrink.

"Oh my, look how fast the time goes. Once you're older, an hour feels like ten minutes, and ten minutes feel like one."

"You're still young! And you take such wonderful care of yourself. I should be going. I mustn't take any more of your time, Mother."

"Next time, be sure to call before you come. Then we can at least have a meal together."

The first half carried a hidden meaning—don't drop in unannounced—and the second was an empty courtesy she offered out of habit. Joo-hee took both in the best possible sense and left the office beaming.

"She doesn't fit."

"You're saying you hate to give away your only son."

"It isn't that. The girl is far too girlish. Frills and sparkle from head to toe. Do you think Cha Seol-woo could live well with a girl like that?"

She looked to Seong-jae as if seeking agreement, but he only shrugged as he cleared the teacups. Hwa-jin clicked her tongue, took out a cigarette-style vape, and switched it on. While she did, Seong-jae cleared the table completely, opened a yellow envelope, and laid the photographs out one after another. She exhaled a long, clean plume and dropped her eyes.

"He went shopping with this girl? Who is she? Pretty."

Hwa-jin's brows rose and fell as she tapped the photos with a finger.

"I don't know."

"Good lord, has that boy lost his mind? Why is he walking around carrying a person? What, is he worried the reporters might run out of stories? He has no idea how much his own mother spends killing articles every single time."

Seol-woo was famous enough for paparazzi to cling to him, and still he did exactly as he pleased. In his place, Hwa-jin periodically swept the controversies out of sight. The result looked a great deal like surveillance of her son's every move, but she didn't intervene beyond that.

"If President Cha knew, he'd call it a completely useless effort and tear into you for it."

"He lives in this world as if he's the only one in it. That's what I get for giving birth to someone too extraordinary."

Seong-jae shook his head at the doting parent who scolded her son and, in the same breath, slyly praised him.

"Shall I look into her?"

"Forget it. With that damned temper, the moment I do, he'll come storming over. Just keep the articles buried."

"Understood. The meeting is ready. Shall we?"

Hwa-jin, who had been intent on neatly extracting the spent stick, rose, careful of the creased fall of her clothes. It was time to move if she meant to get through a packed afternoon.

Felice was a townhouse community of forty-five households, from Unit 1 through Unit 45. Famous throughout Korea for land prices outrageous even relative to the size of the lots, it was a place chaebols, self-made businessmen, celebrities—anyone with deep pockets—were desperate to enter. A private kindergarten only residents could use, a cultural center of serious quality, a market, a hospital: a small kingdom that wanted for almost nothing. Because there were so few households, news traveled fast, and rumors faster.

Word that an unidentified woman had appeared at Seol-woo's house—Unit 1, which occupied the largest grounds even within Felice—spread in less than half a day.

Today's topic was Unit 1. In a brunch café walled in glass on all four sides, the women were already talking about the mysterious stranger.

"I saw her walking the garden. She was really blonde."

"She must have dyed it. But who could she be? It's the first time a woman has gone into that house, isn't it?"

"It is. Even that fiancée, the Seoul mayor's daughter, hasn't come once."

From their thirties to their fifties, the women around the table spanned a range of ages. Born with golden spoons in their mouths and married to matches of the same standing, they passed the days painting, tending flowers, learning to cook, and otherwise filling their hours with hobbies. Wealthy, leisurely lives left them bored, and they soothed that boredom with other people's stories.

"A lover?"

The moment Daeun, the café part-timer, drew near, every mouth closed as if on cue. Daeun had learned the habits of Felice's residents by colliding with them in person, and she set the drinks down slowly. The wives here stood a very long way from noblesse oblige. They ranked people as a matter of course, and anyone they judged beneath them they ignored and shut out without mercy. Those who earned a living inside Felice were treated like stones underfoot.

Once Daeun finished serving and withdrew, the mouths opened again.

"Has anyone seen her face?"

"Not yet. I heard furniture went into Unit 1. If that furniture is hers, we'll be meeting her soon enough."

"How long has it been since we had a new face? This is exciting."

Ajin, the youngest of them, lifted both clenched fists near her face and gave them a thrilled little shake. The others nodded along, entirely in agreement.

"This is really my room?"

"Isn't it too childish? Pink everywhere."

"Yeah. This was a bit much."

From the drawers to the sofa to the curtains, the room was pink through and through, excessively fit for a princess. Yeon brushed the white canopy around the bed with a careful hand, then scurried over to Seol-woo.

"Do you like it?"

"Of course! I really, truly, completely love it."

Her chest and shoulders rose and fell with every breath. It was a room she had never even imagined, the kind that existed only in fairy tales.

"Tsk. Still a baby."

Ethan's broad palm settled over the crown of Yeon's head. She hadn't shown any sign of her sleepwalking, and the men, one worry set aside, were spending their first weekend with her.

"What's this?"

"See for yourself."

A large square opening had been cut through the thick wall. Beyond a passage wide enough for Yeon to walk through easily lay a dressing room and a powder room, and past those, Seol-woo's bedroom. The two spaces had been joined.

"Wow."

"I had it made because of your sleeping habits. It's all right, isn't it? You can cover it with the blind most of the time."

"It's fine. It makes me feel safe, too."

"There's no privacy at all, and she says it's fine."

"Exactly."

Ethan and Chen, leaning on the wall in the same pose, shook their heads. Seol-woo making such a fuss was a novelty.

"Go on in, kid."

Ethan jerked his chin, and Yeon pattered through the passage, then appeared again by opening the door to Seol-woo's room. She had been thanking them in a bright rush when her movements slowed.

"Time to sleep."

"Time to sleep?"

"Watch closely. You'll only understand it if you see it."

Seol-woo reached out as if it were the most natural thing in the world, gathered the sinking Yeon into his arms, and laid her on the new bed.

"When she wakes this time, let's talk about restraining her."

Chen straightened. Seol-woo had just switched off the glaring lights and was about to shut the door.

"W-wait, I'm not sleeping!"

The three men who had turned away looked back at Yeon all at once. She shook her head to clear the daze and walked out.

"That's new."

"So new it's shocking."

They had laid her down because she had fallen asleep, and she was up again in a minute. Chen and Ethan muttered as they looked over Yeon, back where she had been, but Seol-woo was struck speechless and could only let out an empty laugh. She made it impossible to predict even a step ahead, and she kept astonishing a man for whom being thrown off balance was rare enough to count on one hand.

"I'm hungry. Let's eat. Kid, what do you want? Shall we go out?"

"Whatever you'd like."

"The pork cutlet place that just opened wasn't bad."

Yeon watched the others walking ahead, still debating lunch, then quietly raised a hand.

"Actually, there's something I want to eat."

"What is it? Just say it."

Chen nudged Ethan aside and lowered himself to Yeon's eye level.

"Ramen."

"Ramen? That's all?"

"Yes. I really want it."

Every time the hospital staff boiled ramen for a snack, the sharp smell had stabbed at her nose. Before she was locked away she had eaten it until she was sick of it, and on the days she wanted it badly enough, she had even let a few tears slip.

"All right. Ramen happens to be something I boil like a genius."

Ethan grinned and headed for the kitchen. Yeon chased after him on light steps that looked ready to bounce at any moment, and Chen and Seol-woo, smirking, followed at an easier pace.

"Lucky there's a fork."

Chen dug through the cabinet, found one, and set it in Yeon's bowl. Steam poured off the ramen in front of her. She smacked her lips, then began to eat last of all.

"Hold the fork properly."

"Ah—yes!"

Seol-woo, who had set a piece of kimchi of just the right size on top, did not forget to nag.

"After we eat, let's go to the market."

"Will that be all right? With the way Yeon looks, she'll be on people's tongues for a while."

"She's going to live here from now on anyway. Better to take the hit first, they say."

Ethan, who had inhaled the noodles in a flash, muttered as he stirred rice into the broth.

"I don't care what they babble. She'll still need plenty of things, so let Yeon pick them out herself."

Yeon nodded at once. Her cheeks, stuffed full the way a hamster stores sunflower seeds, shook hard. Anything was fine. Even if her hands and feet were bound, she would be happy here.

"We'll have to buy a lot of food. The amount she eats is ridiculous. Want me to give you less rice?"

"No. A lot, please."

"Eat slowly. You'll make yourself sick."

The delicious ramen had put Yeon in a good mood, and she grinned for no reason at all.

"What if she falls asleep at the market?"

"What do you mean, what if. We put her in the cart and haul her home."

When Ethan snickered as if to tease her, she shot him a glare.

"And where do you get off glaring daggers at your oppa?"

Seated beside her, Ethan kept up the mischief, poking her forehead again and again.

"Stop teasing her while she's eating and get ready to go. Yeon, let's put a hat on you. Being stared at will be uncomfortable."

"Okay."

It was strange—not only Seol-woo, but Chen and Ethan too, treating her perfectly as Sun Woo-yeon when she was not the real one. They faced her without a shred of awkwardness, and because of that it felt as if she truly had become her.

Chen cleared the empty bowls, went to the room first, and set a yellow baseball cap on Yeon's head. The brim dropped all the way to her nose, and her shoulders jumped in surprise.

"Oh. It's too big."

"Should I do that? Change my hair color."

Yeon took the cap off and fiddled with her brilliant hair.

"No. You don't need to. Just go. We can buy a hat there."

Seol-woo rubbed the back of her head as if to soothe her, and stood.

Because it was the weekend, the market inside Felice was fairly crowded. Just as Chen had predicted, the eyes of everyone passing by converged on Yeon.

"Damn it. Pink again."

Does this guy have some kind of grudge against pink?

Ethan clicked his tongue when he saw the color of the hat they had already paid for.

"Quit watching everyone else and put in whatever you want to eat."

Seol-woo turned Yeon, who had been scanning the wide market in a busy daze, toward the snack aisle.

"Well, look who it is. President Cha Seol-woo!"

The husband of Ajin from Unit 4 lit up with pleasure and hurried over.