"Wait, they're not coming?" Eomma said, as Wooyoung waved his free hand, trying to quiet her. "But the photographer will be here in ten minutes!"

". . . of course I understand," Wooyoung said into the phone at his ear, using his firm voice. Just hearing it, I sat up straighter in my own seat. "But we'd agreed you'd participate in this photoshoot. There's no way we'll find someone else on such short notice."

"Remind her this was part of our deal," Eomma said. He flipped her again. "If they stand us up for this, no discount on the rehearsal dinner fee. I might even mark it up."

Dang, I thought, raising my brows. When I peeked a glance at my mom, she looked so scary that I went back to folding programs.

"Well, that's unfortunate," Wooyoung said into the phone, sitting back in his chair. "And of course, we'll discuss how it affects our fee . . . Fine. Okay. Right."

"No," Eomma said flatly, as he hung up the phone. "No way she just canceled on us for this. I won't accept it."

"You know I usually am a big fan of denial," he replied with a sigh, "but we probably need to call the photographer and reschedule. We can't shoot wedding images without a bride."

Just then, as if on cue, the front door chimed. When I looked over, a petite woman with a bob was entering, pulling a case behind her. A light setup was over her shoulder. "Morning," she called out, totally oblivious to the mood of the room. "Where do you want me?"

My mom groaned, putting her head in her hands. This was dramatic for her, but I understood the frustration. Ever since Soojung Bae Weddings had been chosen as a finalist for Local Business of the Year by Gwangju Monthly she'd been on edge, doing everything she could to better our chances of winning. This included, but was not limited to avoiding the staff photographer the magazine had sent to get some quick candids in favor of a professional taking pictures of real-life couple in our office. One of our upcoming brides, Lindy Tsang, had been all set up to come in with her fiance that morning until the phone call a few minutes earlier. We'd had a lot of problems in the office, but lacking a bride and groom at the same time had never been one of them.

"I'll call the magazines," Wooyoung said now, picking up the phone again. "Tell them we need another day."

"Don't bother," Eomma told him through her hands. "They already made it clear that if they don't have these images by business close today they're going with stock ones. Stock, Wooyoung. Can you even imagine?"

"There has to be a solution to this," he said, as the photographer started unpacking cameras and lenses from her case. "We don't need a real bride and groom. Just two people to play the part."

"No one wants to see us cutting a cake," Eomma said. "We're too old and wrinkly."

"Speak for yourself. I got carded buying wine the other day," he replied, somewhat proud. "And I wasn't thinking about us."

I was moving to my next stack of programs when I became acutely of the fact that I was being watched. Sure enough, when I paused and looked up, they were both looking right at me.

"No," I said firmly. "No way."

"She has a point," Eomma said, although she kept her eyes on me. "We're not in the child bride business. However, if we did body parts shots -"

"What?" I said, horrified.

"- it would easily work," Wooyoung finished, as if I hadn't said anything. "Hands cutting a cake, hands holding a bouquet, shots from the back. Yes, I think it could work."

"Do neither of you hear me saying no over here?" I said.

"I guess we don't necessarily need a groom," Eomma told Wooyoung, answering this question for me. "Although I did like the symmetry of some of your ideas."

"I'm not speaking to either of you," I announced, going back to folding programs. The door chimed again, cheerful, and I made a point of not looking up. The silence that followed, however, was familiar. As in a recent way.

"What?" I heard Sehun say. He'd been out getting the first coffee order of the morning. "What's up?"

Now I had to speak. "No," I said loudly.

"Okay, okay," Sehun, assuming this was directed at him and said, "Fine. I did eat one of these donuts I just got us without offering them around first."

Eomma and Wooyoung were still studying him, much like hungry cats in cartoon watching the yummy birds on the swing.

"Fine, it was two," Sehun added. "I'm sorry! I was hungry. Also -"

"This isn't about donuts," Eomma told  him. She looked at me again. "It's about helping out when the company is in a serious help."

"Oh," Sehun sighed. "Well, sure. What do you need?"

"See?" she said, pointing at him. "Now that's loyalty."

"I am not going to pretend to be engaged to Sehun!" I said.

"Engaged?" He smiled at me. "Oh, this should be fun."

This was not the word in my head when, half an hour later, I left the conference room with my nails still wet from a rush manicure from Tina, a manicurist from a nearby salon whom Eomma coaxed over with cash. Because this was supposed to be shots of a casual client meeting, I'd kept on the sundress I'd worn to work that day. As I walked toward Sehun and the photographer, now set up in the waiting area, I saw he had on a new shirt. Also, he was smiling at me in a way that made it clear he still thought this was funny.

"Now I think first we'll just do some shots of you flipping through the books of other weddings," the photographer said, motioning for me to sit down. "Because we're not doing faces, I'll blur your profiles in editing, focusing more on your hands, together, on the pages."

Sehun patted the seat beside him. "Come on, honey. Time for our close-up."

I looked at my mom, who held up five fingers, symboling the 500000 won I'd been promised for going through with this. It was not enough. Still, I sat down.

"Okay," the photographer said, squatting down and lifting the camera. "Now, let's have the groom open the book and hold it in his lap. Suzy, lean into him and point to something on the page."

"Should we talk motivation?" Sehun said to me. "Want to make up our backstory? How long we've been together, all that?"

"No," I said, jabbing a finger at a picture.

"I think," he continued, ignoring me, "that we met on a cute moment. Like, you dropped a puppy, and I picked it up for you."

"Why would I drop a puppy?"

"Well, clearly, it was an accident," he replied, sliding his other arm around me. I told myself not to stiffen, then glared at Wooyoung, who had the nerve to laugh out loud. "Your hair smells good, by the way. Is that cherries?"

I didn't respond to this. The photographer, now shooting, said, "Suzy, can you relax your mouth? You look kind of angry."

"Imagine that," I said under my breath.

From the albums, we moved on to posing with the cake Wooyoung had bought just for the shoot, a grocery store variety he'd carefully decorated with fresh flowers. The photographer put us beside it, then arranged our hands - Sehun's above, mine below - on a silver cake cutter.

"Now, just put it on the edge," she called out, checking her light meter. "And, Sehun, shift your hand so we can see the ring on Suzy's finger a bit better. It's just so pretty!"

"Three months' salary," he told her, insisting, still, on being in character. "But my princess deserved a rock!"

Eomma, who was the actual owner of this ring, laughed. Wooyoung said, "You guys actually looked really cute together, if you mind mind me saying."

I was about to tell him that, in fact,  I did, when Sehun moved closer behind me, his mouth right at my ear. "FYI, your tag is sticking out. Let me get it. It's what a fiance would do."

A second later, I felt his fingers on the small of my back, smoothing down the fabric of my dress there. And the weirdest, craziest thing happened: I felt something. That unmistakable, sudden rush of feeling when your body responds to a touch in that certain, specific way. As I blinked, trying to process this, I realized that despite my unwillingness, I hadn't stiffened even once in all the times he'd touched me so far. So weird.

"Great," the photographer called out, clicking away. "Now, Suzy, turn your head and look up at Sehun. Again, I'll blur your features. But I love this staging."

I swallowed - calm down, Bae - then did as I was told, turning toward him. With one of his hands over mine, the other beside me against the table, it was almost like easing into an embrace, and I was surprised, again, by how natural it felt. No elbows or awkwardness; I just fit there.

"What?" Sehun said, looking down at me.

"Nothing," I shook my head a little, as the photographer moved in closer, getting even more of us together. It seemed like she shot forever, us frozen in that spot. Even so, when we broke apart, the space between us felt huge, much bigger than it was. As if somehow it was the odd thing now.