The dinner with the French business associates began right on schedule. Ji Yeonwoo, the representative in charge of interpretation, sat beside Seongheon as a perfectly plated course meal filled the table.
Seongheon and the associates conversed through the interpreter. Yeonwoo, seated to Seongheon’s left, kept the corners of her lips pulled upward throughout the meal.
Stuck between a strange setting, foreign cuisine, and unfamiliar company, a vacant smile was far more taxing than she had anticipated. Everything felt alien, and she found herself gravitating toward the only point of familiarity: the man sitting right next to her.
The interpreter navigated the conversation fluidly, but much of it flew over Yeonwoo’s head. The talk was strictly business; the monetary figures were incomprehensible, and with the added weight of technical jargon, she struggled to judge when to smile and when to remain neutral.
She raised her smile whenever the mood seemed to call for it. Occasionally, the French associate would glance at her, responding with a grin as if he found the way her smile rippled across her face particularly captivating.
Every bite felt like it might catch in her throat. Yeonwoo matched Seongheon’s pace, finishing her plate despite feeling she had reached her limit, desperate not to disrupt the flow of the evening.
When the meal finally concluded, Yeonwoo, who had remained dutifully composed, rose from her seat. Seongheon pulled her chair back halfway; she stepped out and fell into position behind him.
Seongheon continued to speak with the associates as they exited the restaurant. Yeonwoo followed, her stride measured to accommodate her high heels, watching his back as the distance between them slowly widened.
Throughout the dinner, Seongheon had not looked her way once. Not a single word had been exchanged between them. She had smiled until her cheeks ached, yet she had no idea if her performance had been sufficient. She couldn’t help but wonder if this entire, arduous affair was destined to end with nothing but silence.
When Seongheon stopped to bid the associates farewell, Yeonwoo quickened her pace. Each step sent a wave of dizziness through her, leaving her terrified she might stumble, though she hid it well.
As she reached his side, she reflexively put on her mask of a smile. Until the associates were finally out of sight, she knew she couldn’t afford to let it drop.
The French associate finished his goodbyes with Seongheon, shared a brief nod with the interpreter, and turned his gaze toward Yeonwoo.
[It was an honor to have dinner with such a beautiful woman.]
As the interpreter relayed the words, Seongheon glanced at Yeonwoo. She was already smiling, but she brightened it further, offering a soft, polite reply.
“Thank you. Have a safe trip.”
The associate took her hand and pressed a light kiss to the back of it. Surprised by the sudden intimacy, Yeonwoo gripped her clutch, her knuckles turning white. The man finally released her, his gaze lingering—drifting slowly from her face down toward her chest—before he turned, wearing a smug, characteristic smile, and stepped into the elevator.
Once the interpreter vanished after a quick goodbye, Yeonwoo was left alone with Seongheon. She hovered uncertainly, wondering if she were expected to leave as well.
An elevator arrived, but Seongheon made no move to board. He shoved his hands into his pockets, staring fixedly at the floor before letting out a dry, cynical laugh.
*Should I go now?*
Just as she was about to ask, Seongheon turned his head. They made eye contact. Seizing the moment, Yeonwoo parted her lips.
“Oh, Managing Director. I think I’ll—”
“I shouldn’t have brought you along.”
Her voice died in her throat. Seongheon, who hadn’t spared her a single glance all night, was now looking directly at her, his expression unreadable. She bit her lip, her heart sinking. Had she made a mistake?
“I’m sorry.”
The apology slipped out before she could stop it. Seongheon stared at her, his gaze carrying a bone-chilling coldness that seemed to frost the air around her. Was her smile lacking? Should she have laughed instead?
Her panic was written clearly across her face. As she stood frozen, Seongheon turned fully toward her.
“What are you sorry for?”
“Oh, I just… I wasn’t sure if I had smiled properly.”
It was the only thing she could grasp at. She hadn’t spoken, she hadn’t eaten too fast, she hadn’t touched the wine—nothing. Even if she had stumbled, he hadn’t even looked at her, so how could he have noticed?
“…Ha. This is hopeless.”
She wondered if he was mocking her.
She wanted to know why he was so cold, yet part of her wanted to remain ignorant. The elevator doors opened and closed repeatedly, but Seongheon remained rooted to the spot, offering no explanation.
Finally, his voice cut through the silence.
“We were holding a dinner with hundreds of billions in investments on the line, but the French associate had the look of a man who had lost his mind.”
“…….”
“He was like that from the start. He couldn’t keep his head on straight until the very end.”
Yeonwoo felt a flash of indignation. Was she expected to carry the blame for the associate’s lack of focus?
Seongheon tilted his head, studying her.
“Or perhaps not. Since the man who had lost his mind agreed to our terms, should I assume Ji Yeonwoo did her job?”
“…….”
“I didn’t know you had so many talents, Ji Yeonwoo. You know how to make people nervous just by sitting there.”
His words were laced with thorns. Seongheon let out a sharp, ragged breath, his frustration palpable. He could have asked what he meant, but the sight of her standing there, silent and accepting, only stoked the inexplicable rage building inside him.
Earlier, when he had first seen her arrive at the restaurant, he had been struck dumb. Her silhouette, fluid and graceful, had seemed to eclipse everything around her. When he realized it was Yeonwoo, his pulse had betrayed him.
That was why he hadn’t looked at her. He had been fighting a desperate battle to keep his focus on the business at hand, treating her like a ghost. If he looked at her, he knew he would lose his composure.
But the French man had been different. He had been mesmerized. With Yeonwoo sitting there like an ivory magnolia, smiling that gentle smile, the man had been clearly enthralled. Even during their parting, the way he had kissed her hand and let his eyes roam over her chest had made Seongheon’s blood boil.
“What is money, that I’m forced to endure that?”
“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Yeonwoo finally snapped, her voice trembling. Seongheon wiped his forehead as if trying to vent his own heat, closed his eyes, and exhaled.
“If I made a mistake, please, just scold me. I want to be criticized properly if I’ve done something wrong.”
“Ha… It’s not your fault.”
The moment that man’s gaze had touched her, something in Seongheon had snapped. Yeonwoo might not have understood, being caught in the social graces of a foreign culture, but Seongheon had seen the raw, ugly intent in that man’s eyes.
“Managing Director.”
“You didn’t make any mistakes.”
As Yeonwoo spoke, Seongheon forced his eyes open. His heart, previously desperate to see those worried eyes relax, now hammered against his ribs.
“Ji Yeonwoo, you didn’t do anything wrong. You ate well. You smiled well.”
“…….”
“Thanks to you, the contract went through without a hitch.”
Her lips parted slightly. Seeing the color flush into her face, he finally understood the French man’s obsession. It *was* hard to look away. It *was* enough to make a man lose his mind.
“Oh, I don’t know about the rest, but if the contract was successful, isn’t that a good thing?”
“It went well. That’s exactly why I’m suffering. It’s upsetting. It makes me furious.”
She had smiled, and so he must have been happy.
*Yes, I understand.* He thought. *Because I would have been exactly the same.*
He felt nauseated, as if he had profited by selling her smile. He didn’t know how to douse the fire in his veins.
The elevator chimed again. Thinking they wouldn’t board this time either, Yeonwoo hesitated.
Seongheon stared at her. Her neckline, deepening in the dim light, threatened his remaining self-control. He stripped off his jacket and held it out to her.
“Put this on. The night air is chilly.”
Yeonwoo obeyed. Only then did Seongheon press the button.
As she stepped inside, conscious of her heels, Seongheon held out his arm—a silent signal for her to hold on to him.
“One employee getting hurt from a fall is enough.”
Repeating his own warning from before, he watched as she carefully placed her hand on his forearm.
Once they were inside, Yeonwoo reached for her floor, but Seongheon beat her to it, pressing the button for the first floor instead.
She turned to look at him, confused. Seongheon watched her reflection in the stainless steel doors.
“Let’s walk for a bit, if you’re up for it. There is something I need to tell you.”
The air in the elevator grew heavy, taut with anticipation.
“Yes. Managing Director. I’m fine with that.”
Only after hearing her answer did Seongheon finally let out a long, shuddering breath. That word, that one sentence, had seized his heart—and finally, it had let it go.