The Woman Who Stole My Flower
Chapter 27
Chapter 27
#27.
“If you’re that curious, why don’t you go ahead and try?”
Fuming, Hye-eun stormed out of his office without a word of greeting.
“Goodbye.”
Yeon-seo called out a polite farewell from behind, but Hye-eun didn’t even look back. She couldn’t stand the sight of her.
‘Is he seriously treating me like this because of that wench?’
Hye-eun ground her teeth. When she had eavesdropped on their conversation last time, Kang Joo-heon’s voice had been dripping with blatant hatred toward Jung Yeon-seo. Yet for him to take her side so openly…
‘Did they get that close in such a short time?’
Then again, no matter if Jung Yeon-seo had thrown herself at him, they had still spent the night together. Since they were entangled as a man and a woman in the first place, it wouldn’t be surprising if feelings developed rapidly out of nowhere.
Anxiety seized Hye-eun. She had to get rid of Jung Yeon-seo as soon as possible!
‘How do I drive her out?’
Hye-eun thought that this, too, was why South Korea was so backward. In the United States, the job market was flexible, allowing employers to fire workers freely at any time, but Korea wasn’t like that. It was actually easier to fire an executive who wasn’t legally classified as an employee; regular employees had ironclad job security. Unless there was a grave fault warranting dismissal, the Labor Standards Act firmly protected them.
If she couldn’t fire her, the only option was to make her leave on her own.
‘Just how?’
Lost in deep thought, Hye-eun took the elevator down.
In the parking garage, a few people were still moving boxes. It was Assistant Manager Hong and the other employees Hye-eun had deliberately called up earlier—all staff from the Management Support Office.
“Manager Sung!”
“Who told you to do this?”
The employees answered with miserable expressions.
“The Head of Public Relations. He got furious, asking why our work had been dumped on Manager Jung Yeon-seo.”
“He said we’re never to lay a finger on Manager Jung Yeon-seo as long as she’s serving as Director Kang Joo-heon’s secretary.”
Jung Yeon-seo, Jung Yeon-seo, Jung Yeon-seo!
Nearly screaming out loud, Hye-eun clenched her teeth until they felt like crushing just to hold it in.
“Still, Manager Jung Yeon-seo moved quite a lot by herself earlier.”
“I know, she must have had a rough time.”
The moment she overheard the employees talking among themselves, Hye-eun’s ears perked up.
Manager Jung Yeon-seo, all alone…
“Keep up the good work, everyone. I’ll treat you all to coffee and cake later.”
Hye-eun offered the staff a smile and headed up to the office. As she walked away, no one noticed her secretly hiding a small box behind her back.
*
After Hye-eun left, Joo-heon fell into thought.
The image of Yeon-seo hauling all those heavy boxes by herself refused to leave his mind. Common sense dictated that with so much cargo, one would naturally ask someone for help.
Yet for Yeon-seo, the option of asking others for help didn’t seem to exist in her head at all.
[Just because they told you to, you do it all alone? You could have at least called other people to do it with you.]
[Ah, that’s true, isn’t it?]
Judging by the way she had looked, as if she truly hadn’t considered such an obvious thing.
He found her foolish, yet he felt so hopelessly sorry for her that he had called in that Sung Hye-eun or whatever her name was and torn into her. In soccer, there was only one yellow card per match; the second was a red card and an ejection. He had no intention of letting a second offense slide.
That woman seemed to think she was terribly pretty and charming in her own right. Her baseless confidence was so transparent it was laughable. …When the real beauty was standing outside.
Joo-heon’s thoughts drifted right back to Yeon-seo.
A sudden thought occurred to him. Could it be that Yeon-seo had never leaned on anyone before? Was that why the very notion of relying on someone never even crossed her mind? Was that the reason behind the inexplicable resilience he always sensed in her?
Joo-heon found himself wondering about her background. What kind of parents had raised her, and what had her childhood been like? Just what kind of times had she lived through to become the person she was today…?
Lost in thought, Joo-heon looked up as Ho-jin returned a moment later.
“Did you make it clear to the Head of Public Relations?”
“Yeah. He apologized and said nothing like this will ever happen again.”
“Good enough. Setting that aside.”
Joo-heon got down to main business.
“I need to play in a match.”
“Really?”
Ho-jin’s ears perked up. Joo-heon had been training morning and night, but since he hadn’t played a match in so long, Ho-jin had been worried he might lose his touch. To hear him say he wanted to play with his own mouth was the best news possible.
“Well, it’s about time your body was itching for it. Great idea.”
“Hyung, arrange something for me.”
“Sure. Which team should I look into?”
Any team in the K League would welcome Kang Joo-heon with open arms if he offered to play in a practice match. Which one would be best? Somewhere close by would be ideal. FC Seoul, then? Incheon United FC?
As Ho-jin pondered, Joo-heon spoke up.
“I’ve already chosen the match. Hyung, you just need to make contact.”
“It’s not a practice match? Then where on earth are you going to play?”
At what came next, Ho-jin’s eyes widened.
“…!”
*
On the morning of the company athletic meet. When Yeon-seo woke up and stepped out into the shop, Dad was already awake and preparing for the day’s business.
Peeking in, she saw that the carrots were already sautéed and the egg strips were all fried. It looked like the spinach hadn’t been blanched yet, but she decided to turn a blind eye to that much.
“Well, daughter, what got you up so early?”
Sitting in his wheelchair and slicing egg strips, Dad looked at Yeon-seo and asked.
“We have a company sports day today, so I have to pack a lunch.”
Yeon-seo gave only that simple reply.
“Is that so? What are you going to pack?”
“I’ll just roll some gimbap roughly, I guess.”
The company said they had already prepared lunch boxes for everyone, so why on earth did he insist that she pack one? Feeling petty, she didn’t even want to waste time pondering over the menu.
“You’re making gimbap, of all things?”
Dad looked at her with curiosity. Having eaten it so often since childhood, Yeon-seo had grown sick of it and rarely enjoyed eating gimbap.
“It’s not for me to eat, it’s for a higher-up.”
“Which higher-up?”
“Someone like that.”
Yeon-seo said only that much. If she told him the truth about who it was, her father would have a heart attack on the spot.
“Why are you packing a lunch for a higher-up?”
“There are just some circumstances.”
As she brushed it off vaguely, Dad looked increasingly puzzled. Then, in an instant, a bright look of delight washed over his face.
“Our Yeon-seo, do you have a boyfriend by any chance?”
“No, I don’t!”
Yeon-seo jumped and denied it, but Dad was already letting his imagination run wild.
“Let’s see, just who is the man my daughter wants to make and offer gimbap to? Huh?”
“I said no!”
“Wait, don’t tell me…!”
Dad’s gaze landed on the beer advertisement poster of Kang Joo-heon hanging on the wall behind Yeon-seo, making her heart nearly stop. Did Dad suddenly turn into a psychic shaman?
However, in the next moment, Dad beamed from ear to ear and shouted.
“Player Seo Hyun-woo?”
All the tension drained right out of Yeon-seo.
“Say something that actually makes sense, Dad…”
“It’s not him?”
Seeing Yeon-seo’s expression, Dad smacked his lips in disappointment.
“Guess not. Ah, here I thought I was getting a soccer player for a son-in-law.”
Of course Dad had said it without knowing anything, but Yeon-seo felt a pang of guilt. In truth, that was almost exactly her current situation.
‘If I really did marry Kang Joo-heon, how happy would Dad be?’
For the first time, such a thought crossed her mind, but Yeon-seo quickly shook her head. For one thing, she didn’t love Kang Joo-heon, and the feeling was mutual. How could two people get married when neither loved the other?
Besides, if Yeon-seo’s identity became known, Dad would naturally be exposed as well. If that happened, there was no telling what cruel words people would throw at them. In the end, it would only bring hurt. Both to Dad and to herself.
[Are you certain polio isn’t hereditary?]
Someone’s sharp, cutting voice echoed in her ears again, and Yeon-seo hastily shook her head to drive it away.
Watching Yeon-seo spread a sheet of seaweed for gimbap on the cutting board, Dad spoke up.
“But the ingredients aren’t completely ready yet. The spinach isn’t done, and I haven’t stir-fried the fish cakes either.”
“It doesn’t matter if a few things are missing. It’s not like I’m selling it.”
Yeon-seo retorted as she rolled the gimbap. She was packing this lunch reluctantly anyway; he ought to be grateful even if she just gave him plain rice and pickled radish. She had intended to roughly pack it into one of the styrofoam takeout containers meant for customers and wrap a rubber band around it, but Dad stopped her.
“You shouldn’t do that. If it’s for a higher-up, you need to show some sincerity.”
Dad opened the cupboard and took out a tiered lunchbox. Watching Dad neatly arrange the gimbap, sprinkle sesame seeds over it, and garnish it with parsley and a small flower, Yeon-seo grumbled displeasedly.
“Why go that far for someone who doesn’t even deserve it? All he ever does is glare at me.”
As Yeon-seo pouted, Dad spoke in a gentle, coaxing tone.
“That’s all the more reason to pack it with extra care. So he’ll look upon our daughter favorably.”