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Just the thought of that night made Joo-eun’s mouth go dry.
It had been a continuous, intense connection—so deep she couldn’t even count how many times they’d come together.
The memory of him coaxing her with a sexy, determined face, telling her not to move a finger while he took complete control, sent a sharp pang through her heart.
Afraid he might notice her flushed cheeks, she subtly turned her head away.
In that moment, he closed the already narrow gap between them even further.
“Even the next day, and the day after that, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. How can I possibly ignore you when you’re standing right in front of me?”
His languid voice flowed into her ear, wrapping around her body and igniting an unbearable heat.
What… had she just heard?
For a brief second, Joo-eun wondered if her nerves had made her imagine things.
But the intensity in his gaze conveyed a raw sincerity that couldn’t be denied.
She had assumed he’d forgotten. She had even thought he might not recognize her.
Yet here he was, saying he thought of her every single day.
It was impossible to believe.
Above all, what felt most unreal was the wounded look in his eyes as he stared at her.
Why… Why are you looking at me like that?
Min-hyuk, who had been gazing at her with burning intensity, finally spoke.
“I thought we connected deeply that night. Was it just my imagination?”
We did connect! So deeply. I was a mess for days, unable to think of anything but you!
But she couldn’t say that. Not unless she wanted to pour fuel onto the fire blazing within him.
“What does it matter now?”
Joo-eun clenched her fists tightly as she responded.
“It matters to me.”
Min-hyuk didn’t waver in the slightest. His determination to hear her answer felt unyielding.
Taking a short, deep breath to steady herself, Joo-eun forced a haughty tone to mask her trembling heart.
“I guess there was some misunderstanding. I thought we both wanted a cool, fleeting night during our travels. Was I wrong?”
“If your memory is hazy, let me remind you—we weren’t cool that night. We were scorching. Both of us.”
Her memory wasn’t hazy at all.
If anything, it had grown clearer with time. Standing before him now felt like being transported back to that very night.
Summoning a strained smile, Joo-eun replied softly.
“Hmm. I do feel a bit sorry for leaving without saying goodbye. If that’s why you’re upset, then I apologize.”
“Just words?”
“What would you have me do to make it up to you?”
“I’ll—”
As he took a large step closer, Joo-eun instinctively leaned her upper body back.
“What do you think I’m going to ask you to do?”
She braced herself, tightening her legs. If she gave in now, something irreversible might happen.
“Surely a director wouldn’t make strange requests of a mere junior associate like me.”
Amused by her sharp retort, he leaned his upper body toward her, his signature cologne washing over her in a wave.
“Ordinary directors and junior associates wouldn’t dream of doing such things.”
“So… are you threatening me with what happened that night?”
“If anyone’s going to threaten, it should be you. What do I have to lose?”
“Exactly. I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
Knock knock—
The sudden sound startled Joo-eun, causing her to quickly retreat several steps backward as she glanced toward the door.
“This isn’t something we need to rush.”
Min-hyuk’s relaxed smile suggested he had no intention of ending their conversation here.
“Your number. Give it to me.”
“...What?”
Her wide, trembling eyes darted back and forth as she stared at the phone he held out to her.
“If you give me your number, I’ll figure out later what you can do to make it up to me.”
The door was about to open any second now.
Was he trying to suffocate her with this? Or was this some twisted form of revenge?
All sorts of thoughts raced through her mind.
Stuck between indecision, Joo-eun stared at the phone he held out, when another knock sounded.
Startled, she snatched the phone faster than light.
If she’d been even a second late, Jang-wook might have walked in on an awkward scene.
“Director...? The PR team leader is here for the meeting. Should I push back the meeting time if this will take long?”
Min-hyuk couldn’t help but smile as he watched her pretend to gaze at some distant, non-existent mountain.
“Hmm… That’s something you should ask Song Joo-eun. Will this take long, Song Joo-eun?”
“A-Ah, no. We’ll finish soon.”
“It’ll be over soon,” Min-hyuk echoed.
Jang-wook, who had peeked in sensing something odd, slowly nodded.
“Yes, then I’ll wait outside...”
The door closed cautiously.
In that instant, Joo-eun’s expression hardened.
“Haa… You could’ve easily gotten my number without all this. What were you thinking, doing this where other employees might see?”
“I wanted to get it directly from you. I’m not into forcing things.”
This isn’t forcing?!
She didn’t want to give him even a single digit, but his unwavering stance and the situation outside the door weighed heavily on her mind.
Ugh… What does he want from me?
With hurried taps of her index finger, she quickly punched in her number and thrust the phone back at him.
“Here.”
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he pressed the call button.
When her phone rang from inside her jacket pocket, Min-hyuk ended the call with a light press and smiled.
“You’re the first woman to ever input her number into my phone, Song Joo-eun.”
What a cliché line that didn’t fool her for a second.
Joo-eun glared at him with an expression that made it clear she wasn’t buying it.
Even her scrunched-up nose and defiant glare looked adorable to him. He had to resist the urge to ruffle her hair.
---
No matter how much cold water she drank, her insides wouldn’t calm.
What on earth just happened in there?
Joo-eun stared at the director’s office, disbelief etched across her face.
“That night, I found myself in quite the predicament. I couldn’t stop.”
“From where I was standing, Song Joo-eun seemed quite shaken.”
“Ugh… I’m going crazy.”
Her voice trembled as if she might cry. Section Chief Choi glanced over, concerned.
“Did he tear you apart, Song Joo-eun?”
“Ah… Chief Choi.”
She stepped away from the water cooler she’d monopolized.
“You look really stressed. Here, drink one more glass.”
“…Okay.”
There was no way she could say she was fine—her nerves were completely frayed.
“What did he say? Did he ask you to redo something?”
“No. He just asked me to investigate the global marketing strategies of our competitors. He also mentioned forming a task force.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. Nothing special. Just got the feeling he’s aiming for more innovative and faster marketing strategies moving forward. That’s all.”
It wasn’t a lie.
Without mentioning the parts of the conversation she couldn’t share, that was all there was to say.
“Is that so? Thank goodness. You came out looking so pale, I thought you’d been utterly crushed and was worried.”
“It was our first meeting today… Why would he crush me? Hmm.”
That’s right. Normally, that’s how it should be.
But because it wasn’t their first meeting, she had been utterly crushed instead.
“True. Our Song Joo-eun isn’t the type to get crushed just anywhere. But up close, what did you think? Is he even more handsome than you imagined?”
Of all things, that’s what you’re curious about right now?
Joo-eun let out a hollow laugh.
“Yes, incredibly handsome. So much so that it felt like my breath was completely knocked out of me.”
Her words were dripping with sarcasm—she meant it was suffocating in the worst way possible.
“Ah, I’m jealous. I want a one-on-one meeting too.”
Choi took her comment at face value.
Go ahead and try. You’ll be begging for an oxygen mask before you know it.
Joo-eun awkwardly smiled and returned to her seat.
From all directions, questions rained down like they’d been waiting for her: “What did he say? What did the director tell you?”
Each time she repeated the same answer, the weight on her shoulders grew heavier and heavier.
---
It wasn’t something that could be compared to the arrival of an ordinary director—it was inevitable, given who he was.
Executives and team leaders lined up to introduce themselves, hoping to leave a good impression on the chairman’s son. Dinner invitations poured in.
But Min-hyuk rejected every single one. At exactly 6 p.m., he left the office, leaving behind a simple instruction: no one was to stay late for overtime.
When he returned home, he showered and changed into comfortable clothes. After eating the dinner the housekeeper had prepared, he picked up a book as he always did.
He opened an economics textbook written by a Harvard professor, but for some reason, he kept smiling as he read.
It was because of her—she kept popping into his mind unbidden. The memory of her nervously nibbling on her lips wouldn’t leave him alone.
“It’s amusing. Thinking about her makes me forget all the things I’ve given up on.”
The corners of his mouth curved upward in a pleased smile.
For a brief moment, he felt happy—until his phone vibrated, shattering the peace.
Frowning, he glanced at the screen. It was Jang-wook.
With a low sigh, he pressed the call button.
“I already see you every day, and now you’re calling me at night? Isn’t that a bit excessive?”
[“Do you think you’re not being excessive?”]
Jang-wook grumbled.
“Get to the point.”
[“I dreamed of making a stylish entrance into DK Electronics, securing a top position right away! But instead, here I am, squeezed next to the marketing team without even a proper secretary’s office. Doesn’t that sound pitiful?”]
“Not at all.”
[“Sigh… Of course, you wouldn’t understand. You look like someone who’d strut around in luxury brands, yet you’re surprisingly humble.”]
“It’s not humility—it’s simplicity.”
[“Right. Very ‘simple’ of you to make employees work overtime.”]
“I told them to leave on time. Who’s staying late?”
[“That goddess of DK Media, Song Joo-eun. She said she’s going to work late.”]
“...!”
Min-hyuk’s gaze instinctively darted to the wall clock.
It was nearly 11 p.m.
Part of him thought she must have gone home by now—but another part worried that someone like her might still be wrestling with documents.
His sharp eyes flickered with unease.
“Hang up.”
Jang-wook’s voice, protesting that he had more to say, abruptly cut off.
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