I push open the door and stumble through, tripping over my own feet, and falling head first into the office.

Double crap - me and my two left feet! I am on my hands and knees in the doorway to Ms. Jung's office, and gentle hands are around me helping me to stand. I am so embarrassed, damn my clumsiness. I have to steel myself to glance up. Holy cow - she's so young.

"Miss Hwang." She extends a long- hand to me once I'm upright. "I'm Jessica Jung. Are you all right? Would you like to sit?"

So young - and attractive, very attractive. She's flawless, dressed in a white shirt, and black tie with unruly dark copper coloured hair and intense, bright dark eyes that regard me shrewdly. It takes a moment for me to find my voice.

"Um. Actually - " I mutter. If this woman is over thirty then I'm a monkey's uncle. In a daze, I place my hand in hers and we shake. As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me. I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed. Must be static. I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate.

"Miss Im is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope you don't mind, Ms. Jung."

"And you are?" Her voice is warm, possibly amused, but it's difficult to tell from her impassive expression. Jessica looks mildly interested, but above all, polite.

"Tiffany Hwang. I'm studying English Literature with Yoona, um... Im Yoona...um... Miss Im at Incheon National University."

"I see," she says simply. I think I see the ghost of a smile in her expression, but I'm not sure. "Would you like to sit?" She waves me toward a white leather buttoned L-shaped couch.

Jessica’s office is way too big for just one woman. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, there's a huge modern dark-wood desk that six people could comfortably eat around. It matches the coffee table by the couch. Everything else is white - ceiling, floors, and walls except, on the wall by the door, where a mosaic of small paintings hang, thirty-six of them arranged in a square. They are exquisite - a series of mundane, forgotten objects painted in such precise detail they look like photographs. Displayed together, they are breathtaking.

"A local artist. Trouton," says Jessica when she catches my gaze.

"They're lovely. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary," I murmur, distracted both by her and the paintings. She her head to one side and regards me intently.

"I couldn't agree more, Miss Hwang," she replies, her voice soft and for some inexplicable reason I find myself blushing.

Apart from the paintings, the rest of the office is cold, clean, and clinical. I wonder if it reflects the personality of the Aphrodite who sinks gracefully into one of the white leather chairs opposite me. I shake my head, disturbed at the direction of my thoughts, and retrieve Yoona's questions from my satchel. Next, I set up the mini-disc recorder and am all fingers and thumbs, dropping it twice on the coffee table in front of me. Ms. Jung says nothing, waiting patiently - I hope - as I become increasingly embarrassed and flustered. When I pluck up the courage to look at her, she's watching me, one hand relaxed in her lap and the other cupping her chin and trailing her long index finger across her lips. I think she's trying to suppress a smile.

"Sorry," I stutter. "I'm not used to this."

"Take all the time you need, Miss Hwang," she says.

"Do you mind if I record your answers?"

"After you've taken so much trouble to set up the recorder - you ask me now?"

I flush. She's teasing me? I hope. I blink at her, unsure what to say, and I think she takes pity on me because she relents. "No, I don't mind."

"Did Yoona, I mean, Miss Im, explain what the interview was for?"

"Yes. To appear in the graduation issue of the student newspaper as I shall be conferring the degrees at this year's graduation ceremony."

Oh! This is news to me, and I'm temporarily pre-occupied by the thought that someone not much older than me - okay, maybe six years or so, and okay, mega successful, but still - is going to present me with my degree. I frown, dragging my wayward attention back to the task at hand.

"Good," I swallow nervously. "I have some questions, Ms. Jung." I smooth a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

"I thought you might," she says, deadpan. She's laughing at me. My cheeks heat at the realization, and I sit up and square my shoulders in an attempt to look taller and more intimidating. Pressing the start button on the recorder, I try to look professional.

"You're very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?" I glance up at her. Her smile is rueful, but she looks vaguely disappointed.

"Business is all about people, Miss Hwang, and I'm very good at judging people. I know how they tick, what makes them flourish, what doesn't, what inspires them, and how to incentivize them. I employ an exceptional team, and I reward them well." Jessica pauses and fixes me with her stare. "My belief is to achieve success in any scheme one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out, know every detail. I work hard, very hard to do that. I make decisions based on logic and facts. I have a natural gut instinct that can spot and nurture a good solid idea and good people. The bottom line is, it's always down to good people."

"Maybe you're just lucky." This isn't on Yoona's list - but she's so arrogant. Her eyes flare momentarily in surprise.

"I don't subscribe to luck or chance, Miss Hwang. The harder I work the more luck I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing their energies accordingly. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said 'the growth and development of people is the highest calling of leadership.'"

"You sound like a control freak." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "Oh, I exercise control in all things, Miss Hwang," she says without a trace of humour in her smile. I look at her, and she holds my gaze steadily, impassive. My heartbeat quickens, and my face flushes again.

Why does she have such an unnerving effect on me? Her overwhelming good-looks maybe? The way her eyes blaze at me? The way she her index finger against her lower lip? I wish she'd stop doing that.

"Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things," she continues, her voice soft.

"Do you feel that you have immense power?" Control Freak.

"I employ over forty thousand people, Miss Hwang. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility - power, if you will. If I were to decide I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sell up, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so."

My mouth drops open. I am staggered by her lack of humility.

"Don't you have a board to answer to?" I ask, disgusted.

"I own my company. I don't have to answer to a board." Jessica raises an eyebrow at me.

I flush. Of course, I would know this if I had done some research. But holy crap, she's so arrogant. I change tack.

"And do you have any interests outside your work?"

"I have varied interests, Miss Hwang." A ghost of a smile touches her lips. "Very varied." And for some reason, I'm confounded and heated by her steady gaze. Her eyes are alight with some wicked thought.

"But if you work so hard, what do you do to chill out?"

"Chill out?" Jessica smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. I stop breathing. She really is beautiful. No one should be this good-looking.

"Well, to 'chill out' as you put it - I sail, I fly, I indulge in various physical pursuits."

Jessica shifts in her chair. "I'm a very wealthy woman, Miss Hwang, and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies."

I glance quickly at Yoona's questions, wanting to get off this subject.

"You invest in fashion industry. Why, specifically?" I ask. Why does she make me so uncomfortable?

"I like fashion design. I like to know how to work with a combination of materials and to choose from a wide range of colours, patterns and styles. And I have a love of sunglasses. What can I say?"

"That sounds like your heart talking rather than logic and facts."

Jessica's mouth quirks up, and she stares appraisingly at me.

"Possibly. Though there are people who'd say I don't have a heart."

"Why would they say that?"

"Because they know me well." Her lip curls in a wry smile.

"Would your friends say you're easy to get to know?" And I regret the question as soon as I say it. It's not on Yoona's list.

"I'm a very private person, Miss Hwang. I go a long way to protect my privacy. I don't often give interviews," she trails off.

"Why did you agree to do this one?"

"Because I'm a benefactor of the University, and for all intents and purposes, I couldn't get Miss Im off my back. She badgered and badgered my PR people, and I admire that kind of tenacity."

I know how tenacious Yoona can be. That's why I'm sitting here squirming uncomfortably under her penetrating gaze, when I should be studying for my exams.