Half laughing – half breathing air – all out of embarrassment, leaning forward Namjoo plucked the carrot off his father’s plate. The old man so surprised he’d frozen, his hand still clutching the spoon, hovered above his food.

Dropping the chunk of carrot onto the napkin beside her plate, Namjoo rubbed her moist fingers off it. Leaning back into chair she glanced at Sehun’s parents. Doing her best to pull the corner of her lips up to smile. Hoping against all hope this wouldn’t be the biggest screwup of hers.

She was dead.

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“You are incredulous!” Sehun scolded in the privacy of his home.

Standing furthest from the couch with head lowered, hands clutched in front of her, Namjoo pouted. A gray could of shame hovered over her.

“Before eating, you wait for your husband to sit together. Secondly, wait for your elders to eat first. Don’t you know that?” he lectured, voice thick and deep.

“How am I supposed to know that?” Namjoo shot her head up, quick to defend herself. “We don’t do that in my house.”

“But you’re in my house,” Sehun strictly reminded.

Grumbling incoherently, Namjoo turned her face to the side so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Keep that in mind from now on.” He iterated.

“Well, you were gone this morning when I woke up. What was I supposed to do when the maid told me to go?” Namjoo argued unjustified.

“She’s Cleaner Jin for your information.”

“She has a title?!” Namjoo exclaimed.

“Then call her Miss Jin.” He huffed.

“That’s not what I asked.” Namjoo called out.

Swiping his jacket off the back of the recliner by him, he snapped the article irritably. Burrowing his brows out of annoyance, he turned to go. “Come out when you’re ready.”

“Where are we going?!” her faded voice shouted as he stepped outside and away from the front door.

When Namjoo finally caught up he was standing by the back door of the main manor, arms crossed, tapping a finger impatiently against his bicep. She gave the appearance of a carefree child slouched and upset. Having no word to spare with her he opened the door and went inside.

“The only way outside is through the main building,” Sehun explained. “You’re not getting out of here unless you go through here first.”

“I’m trapped?” Disbelief fluctuated through her tone.

“You might as well be.”

“So you mean, I can’t even come and go as I like?” Scurrying up to his side, Namjoo peeked up into his face for clarification.

“You don’t have a car, do you?” he asked the obvious.

Her eyes swayed a round as she digested the fact. Perking up with relief, she stared at him, “I can drive!”

“But whose car are you going to take?” His keys jingled as he held it up in the air and watched her longingly stare at it, cat eyes ready to pounce. For extra measure Sehun firmly wrapped his fingers around the tool.

Namjoo halted finally realizing what she was getting into. Smirking he continued on. This would teach her not to act out of character when he wasn’t around. Closing in on the front door he heard the urgent tapping of her footsteps as she raced toward him. Racing ahead, she plastered her back to the doors. Spread her arms out to block him.

A width away, Sehun stopped, frowning. Seriously, she couldn’t stop acting up?

“Then, Mr. Sehun,” Namjoo started.

His brow twitched. “Sehun is fine.”

“Oh?” she coyly asked. “You don’t need a title?”

He glowered at her.

“I thought I might be Mistress Oh or something.” Giggling Namjoo firmly smiled. Seeing he wasn’t putting up with her act, she dropped the smile. “If I’m to be here, we should consider how much I should be getting. Shouldn’t we?” A brow rose when she added, “Dear Sehun?”

Glancing behind him in case a housekeeper was eavesdropping, he lunged forward, grabbed Namjoo, flipped her around, put his hand over , propped the door open and pushed her outside. The entire way to his car she tried to wriggle free.

“Hey!” She shouted when he let go. Turning on him she glared. “Don’t manhandle me!”

“Don’t you mention anything about a payment in this house.” Sehun warned wiping his moist hand against his pants.

Scoffing, Namjoo ran her eyes up and down over him. The scrutiny made his skin crawl. “For some guy like you, you are precautious. Just as I’ve imagined people like you to be.”

Namjoo began rounding the hood of his car leaving him to stare after her irate. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Stopping at the corner, Namjoo stuck her tongue out at him. Then with a, “Hmph!” and the flick of her hair, she turned away and yanked on the passenger door.

Scowling, Sehun hit the buzzer to unlock the door.

What the hell was he getting himself into?

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Turned out Sehun really took her shopping for new clothes. Of the first time, the department stores carrying the most luxurious brands she’d only enviously eye-shopped through magazines. In the store Namjoo slid from one corner to the next touching a dress, a gold zippered blazer, the heels, thousand-dollar sneakers, Italian leather handbags and more from various other expensive materials. Sniffing the materials for its genuine freshness and kissing the products never minding the staring staff.

She was over the moon!

Plucking the leather bag from her Sehun replaced it on the shelf, reprimanding her, “We only have one purpose today and that’s to get you decent clothes that will reflect my honor.”

Pursing her lips, Namjoo disappointedly nodded. On the bright side, she lightened up. “But you’re paying?”

The prices were giving her a heart attack.

“I’m paying.” He grimly stated.

“Sweet!” she declared and went right back to browsing, hopping from rack to rack.

Carrying four outfits, Namjoo skipped to Sehun. “I’m done.”

He scanned the suit, matching blouse, jacket, jeans. Plucking them up one by one. “No, no, no, no.”

“What?! Why?!” she cried out.

Shoving them back into her arms, he enunciated word by word, “Jeans not allowed. You’d wear these for show on the streets, not in my home.”

“Wha….”

“Look again.” His eyes went stern.

Mumbling curses under her breath she swirled around and went in search of different clothes, intentionally snatching the most expensive ones.

“Not this. Not this.” Sehun condemned again. Sighing aggrieved, he asked, “Don’t you have taste at all?”

Namjoo’s cheeks puffed up, ready to start blowing her head off. Pursing her lips, she tossed the clothes at him angrily. “Then you choose!”

He looked flabbergasted at her blowup. Brows twining, he his breath and stomped off. Hands on hips Namjoo hissed, staring after him.

He was such a stuck-up she couldn’t stand him! Picky all around! Nothing she did seemed satisfactory.

Between her and Moonbi, she was the most fashionable!

Didn’t take long for Sehun to return. A heap of clothes were draped over an arm. His gaze flickered from her to the clothes, as if deeming her unfitting for such upscale materials. Namjoo glared at him.

“Go change into this.” Deciding on something he threw it at her. Part of the item hit her in the face as she caught it.

Namjoo about screamed at him before he half turned calling out, “Take her to the changing room.”

A store clerk formally dressed in a black skirt and buttoned blazer nodded. Spreading her arm out, she gracefully said with a bowed head, “This way please.”

Stricken by the respect she’d never received while shopping, Namjoo gripped the dress in her arms. As she passed, she shot Sehun a contriving sneer.

Locked inside the changing room, with a long mirror, Namjoo stared at her surroundings. For a fitting room in a luxury store, it was glamorously decorated with a venetian seat. The wallpaper was a yellow with cream colored swirls. Three bronze hooks hung on the walls. It was a room too wide to be considered a fitting room.

Finally shifting Namjoo stared at herself in the mirror. She was wearing too tight skinny jeans with a sparkly see through top and a spaghetti tank underneath to boost her iness. Black knee-high boots to match, and they were her most expensive pair of shoes. A great deal she’d snatched for 50% off! She’d fought tooth and nail for them.

“I’m not shabby.” Namjoo consoled herself.

Undressing she slipped into the white dress with bright flower patterns.

“What the hell…” she muttered pulling the zipper at the back up. “It fits.”

Hissing at the door she wondered how Sehun knew.

Why she oughta teach him a lesson when she stepped out. Grabbing her day-old outfit, Namjoo yanked the door open. Leaning back just in time when Sehun a pair of heels forward nearly knocking her nose off her face.

“You almost hit me!” She scolded.

“Get rid of your shoes. They’re ridiculous.” Sehun told.

Huffing annoyed that he was ordering her around, Namjoo put a hand on her hip, shoving a finger into his face. “You’re a ert, aren’t you?”

Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “What?”

“Then how do you know what size fits me?” Namjoo asked.

He leaned an inch forward so that his face was almost in hers. “Maybe I am.”

Namjoo literally felt like she was swimming in the dark brown of his irises. That morning she’d lied about his razor-sharp features, but staring ultimately in his face up close she learned the made-up description wasn’t far off.

Oh Sehun was intriguingly handsome.

Abruptly moving away, he crouched down and ped her boots unexpectedly catching her off guard. Namjoo yelped surprised.

Too bad he was not her type.

Backtracking so fast she nearly toppled over her own feet, she yelled, “I can do it myself!”

Stealing the heels from him, Namjoo felt her eyes go round as she inhaled.

Gosh! She couldn’t stand him!

Stomping over to the venetian seat Namjoo plopped down and kicked off her boots irritably. The moment she stood in the two-inch heels she whined. “I’m not doing this!”

Sitting back down she started pulling the heels off.

Striding over, Sehun plucked her boots up and away from her.

“Hey!” She yelled.

“You will be properly dressed.” Sehun stated.

“I will be comfortably dressed.” She argued. She stretched an arm out to take her boots, but Sehun pulled them away.

“Two thousand.”

Her arm held in mid-air. Namjoo blankly stared at him.

“Two hundred,” he prolonged the adjustment. Namjoo’s head cocked a bit to the side waiting expectantly. “Thousand.”

Smacking her hands together, Namjoo widely grinned. “That’s right!” Nodding satisfied. “That’s how you do it!” Pushing herself up, she said, “I can do this. The pain will be worth it.”

Gripping her hands into fists she stood. The strange pressure from the heels sent numerous stings through the nerves of her feet. She instantly complained.

“The money. The money.” She repeated to herself. “Do it for the money.”

She looked up to find Sehun eyeing her like she was the most pathetic human he’d come across.

“I can do it,” Namjoo persuaded. “Go on. Go ahead. I can bear the pain. For two thousand daily.” She paused after half a step then looked at Sehun for confirmation. “Right?”

The corner of his lip curved into a coy smirk. “Did I say that?”

Without waiting for her he headed out of the fitting room.

“Oh Sehun!” She screamed.

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Namjoo complained the entire way.

“My feet hurts.”

“I can’t walk anymore.”

“Can we sit?”

“Stop walking so fast.”

“I want to take my shoes off.”

“Can I have something else to wear?”

“Sehun.”

“Sehun.”

“Sehun!”

“Just stop it!” He had twisted around, hands up, fingers curled inwards toward his palm. Doing his best not to yell at her in the middle of the bustling hallway of what seemed like a hundred bodies pacing back and forth.

He kind of wanted to wring her neck. Despite legging ten steps behind him, Namjoo had walked at the pace of a turtle delaying their shopping hour, stretching it into two and a half now. Sehun was exhausted and frustrated trying to prep her up. Make her as fake as possible so his parents would neither nitpick him for his choice nor suspect him of a lie.

If Namjoo failed to do her part and he failed to make her play the game, he would once again become an idle boy waiting for his mother to fix him up.

“Will you shut up then?”

Cheerily smiling, Namjoo held out her hands palms out to invite him forward. “You first.”

Hissing underneath his breath he waited for a couple to pass before entering a shoe factory store. Ten minutes in and Namjoo happily found a pair of black flats.

“See, if we did this the first time, it wouldn’t be so difficult.” Namjoo chided on the way out. “You know nothing about women. First, shoes are everything. Second, comfort makes the shoe. Easy peasy. Men just don’t understand.”

She skipped ahead of him out the front doors. Sehun snarled at her joyous back that seemed to be giggling at him. He wanted to wring her neck so badly.

“You’ve never dated before, huh?” Namjoo asked zipping the seatbelt over her body and clicked it in.

Sliding behind the wheel with a grunt after slamming the rear door close once he'd stuffed the shopping bags into the backseat, he shut the door loudly intentionally.

“Ow!” Namjoo pressed a hand to her ear. “Do it softly. My ears are fragile.”

“Oh? Are they?” He pretentiously asked. Insincerely apologizing with a hand raised, “Sorry.”

“That’s why women don’t like you. You have absolutely no concern for them.” She continued to lecture. “I’m telling you this for your own benefit, put a lady first before all your other priorities or else no one will ever want to marry you. I don’t know what your past is like that you’re so grumpy, but women don’t…”

Punching the accelerator, he sped off into traffic so fast Namjoo jolted back into her seat. If she would just shut up and stop acting like he knew nothing. God, she just couldn’t stop.

“Hey!” she shrieked at him.

“Sorry.” He said again without a hint of feeling. “You were saying?”

Scowling at him, Namjoo crossed her arms and stared out the window.

That’s right, he thought, stay quiet.

The rest of the way home was utterly peaceful. Now for the real mess.

“Get your stuff and carry them inside.” He told stepping out of the car.

“All of them?” Namjoo questioned in disbelief.

Sehun left her to lug the eight bags by herself and went up the stairs without waiting for her. He’d shown her the way around last night and this morning. There was no reason for her to get lost on the way to his house.

Further up the stairs he pulled the front door open unveiling a figure waiting inside as it caked open. As the door shut behind him Kang Hyena in a pretty knee-high pink dress whirled toward him, long hair evenly pouring over her petite shoulders.

“Sehun.” She greeted smiling even prettier.

He felt his mouth go dry. This was not what he’d expected to come home to.

“I didn’t see your car outside,” Sehun said.

“The driver dropped me off.” She was still smiling like she wasn’t capable of anything but that. “I heard from mom the date today was cancelled. I was worried you weren’t feeling well.”

“No, not at all.” Sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

“You couldn’t help me?!” Namjoo shouted bursting through the door, four heavy bags dangling from her hands, her position partially slouched.

The two of them turned to stare at Namjoo whose mouth was still gaped open from yelling at him. Slowly closing it her eyes bounced from the girl to him and again.

“Sorry,” she laughed awkwardly, “I didn’t know someone else was here.” Shuffling ahead, she waved for them to continue their conversation, “Go on. Talk to the pretty lady.”

Before Namjoo went any further he quickly turned to Hyena, “This is Namjoo.”

Forced to stop at the introduction, Namjoo turned around. He went on, “Namjoo, this is Kang Hyena.”

A crooked smile hung off Namjoo’s lips. “Uh…yes, yes. Hi.”

Taken aback by the suddenness of the situation, pretty Hyena observed Namjoo.

“What was that?” Sounding as concerned as possible he abruptly looked at Namjoo.

Lost, Namjoo frowned. “Huh?”

“You’re having morning sickness?” Rushing toward her he snagged the bags from her and handed them to Hyena, “Tell Driver Lee to drop them off at my house.” Hurrying to big eyed Namjoo he lifted her up and escaped down the hall.

***heheheh the tables have him