The weighty thud of a stack of papers unceremoniously dropped on her desk made Iseul flinch, making her hand seize, accidentally clicking the fatal “Don’t Save”. The kittens on her desktop wallpaper stared back into her disbelieving expression, their eyes dark, empty, their grins manic.  

“Hey…I need this award application for the department proofed and sent certified by end-of-business.”  Hyunwoo beamed down while Iseul sat, silent and shocked.

Unwillingly, her eyes slid to the clock on her desktop.  3 PM.  “The mailroom closes at 4.”

“You’ll have to take the metro to the post uptown.  It closes at 5.”

“That’s a 20 minute ride.”

“Well, the envelope has to be date-stamped by today...”

She glanced at the stack.  No fewer than three grammatical errors on the first page danced across her sightline.  “So…you want me to proof…30-some-”

“53.”

She raised a brow, tried to calm herself with a delicate inhale before flicking her eyes up to glare at him above her glasses.  “53 pages…and make corrections…and get it to the post office at least 20 minutes away…all in two hours?  When you know that Council agenda items are due by 4:30?”

“I sent you an electronic copy, since I know that you prefer that.”

She stared blankly.

He had the grace to at least look a bit sheepish as he slowly began to back out of her office.  “Thank you…”

As soon as he was out of her sightline, she turned back to the soullessly grinning kittens.  They offered no assistance.  Sighing, she picked up the phone to call the Secretary of Council.  “Hey, it’s me.  Something’s come up; could I submit the agenda items for consideration on Monday before end-of-business…”

***

“Hey, could you help me?”  

As far as morning greetings went, it wasn’t Iseul’s favourite.  She raised a brow before looking over her glasses from where she had been reading the (printed!) Council resolution in preparation for a presentation at Wednesday's Council meeting.  Presenting encroachment requests wasn’t normally under her purview, but the right-of-way agent had come down with a hideous flu, and everyone else was too busy.  

The departmental administrator Park Duri (newish), sheepishly slunk into her office.  “Council has just requested updates for all current projects by 5 PM tomorrow for their strategic priorities meeting.  Could you get those to me by 12 PM tomorrow, so that I have enough time to look over them and make any necessary edits or updates before the meeting?”

Iseul briefly looked inward, weighing her chances in jail before reorienting on Duri.  “All-all?”

Duri grimaced.  “All.”

“That’s like…37 projects.”

“I know,” she sighed.

“Why do they always wait until the last minute?!  Why don’t they do it on some sort of schedule so that we can anticipate it?!”

“I’ve mentioned this to them before, but…”  Duri shrugged helplessly.  

Iseul tapped a pen against the desk, unwillingly mentally reorganizing her day.  “Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you,” Duri beamed, before quickly making herself scarce, probably before Iseul could ask why Duri couldn’t gather her own updates.

***

Council meetings were uneventful, if eye-wateringly long.  By the time the evening meeting adjourned, Iseul had been at work for almost 12 hours, and if the only thing standing between her and her bed was homicide, then she’d risk it all…

She wished that she could just go home, but unfortunately it was raining, so she had to drop by her office to collect her umbrella.  Upon exiting the elevator, the floor was dark and quiet, peaceful, and as she headed for her wing, she began to fantasize about slipping into her soft, cozy flannel jamjams, and sliding into bed next to her cat.  Yet, as she turned the corner toward her office, she saw a sight.  A terrible, awful, no-good, very bad sight.  

Light streaming from her boss’s office.  

Now, Iseul had a nice boss.  A pleasant boss.  A kind, generally genial, no-nonsense boss…

Who worked like a madman.  He was in by six, and usually not out until seven, answered emails at any and all hours of the night, and throughout the weekend.  She sympathized.  It wasn’t as if he wanted to work so prodigiously, but heavy was the head that wore the crown and all that.

The problem…the problem was that if he caught her at an inopportune time…she might get caught in the blast radius of spontaneous human delegation.  He didn’t normally delegate profligately, but sometimes, he would get into a mood, and anyone upon whom he laid eyes would walk away with a new project.  Or three.  

Holding her breath, tip-top-toeing, thinking sneaky thoughts, she slipped into her office, using the residual light spilling from his to see.  Carefully reaching up to her coat rack, she quietly slid the umbrella from its place, and turned around to leave.  No spectre of the protestant work ethic loomed in the door, no phantasm of industry.  Emitting a silent exhalation of relief, she started for the door, hovering just as she reached the exit.  Hearing no movement, she risked a quick look around the corner.  

Nothing.

Deciding that fortune favoured the bold, she made a break for it, silently slipping out of her department’s wing to stealthily stalk toward the elevator.  Sighing in relief, she kicked the floor button, and waited.  The elevators in this…relatively mature building took their sweet time, and as every second passed, she increasingly considered making a break for it to just walk down the seven flights of steps to freedom.  Just when she couldn’t take it anymore, the elevator dinged loudly, boldly announcing its arrival, making her jump and look around furtively, but joy!  Not a soul in sight.  The elevator doors slid open, and she started forward, only to jerk back.  

Her boss stood inside the elevator, blinking.  She tilted her head, not entirely unlike a confused puppy.  “daepyonim?”

“Are you going home?” he asked jovially.  

“I…am,” she answered uncertainly.  

He was silent for a moment, but when she didn’t move, he raised a brow.  “Waiting for an invitation?”

“Your lights,” she blurted.  “In your office…they’re on.”

“Aish,” he sighed, fluffing up the back of his hair.  “I must have forgotten to turn them off before the meeting.  Oh, well, janitorial staff will do it on their rounds.”  He paused when she didn’t move.  “You coming?”

“Oh, well, yes…” she said awkwardly, bundling into the elevator.  The doors closed as she nervously fidgeted with her umbrella.  

The lift began to descend.

“Oh!” he started, and her heart dropped.  “I’m glad that I caught you.  Would you mind attending our superintendents’ meeting tomorrow morning?”

“The one at Operations?  At 8?”  A full hour before her normal arrival time.  

“That’s the one,” he confirmed.  

Her heart sank even lower.  Must she?  Pasting on a rictus of a grin, she expressed her frustration by subtly throttling her umbrella.  “Um…sure.  What’s the agenda?”

“Well, we’re discussing the details of a new employee recognition program.”

“Oh?”  Now, that piqued her interest.  In her old job, in another department, she had been involved with the development of their employee recognition program.  It would make sense that he would ask for her attendance then.  Her mind whirled into gear as she made a mental note to print her notes on her old department’s program, as well as the finished document, to bring to the next day’s meeting.

The elevator dinged.  First floor.  Her boss held out a gentlemanly arm, indicating she should precede him.  She exited the elevator, her boss close behind.  

“Yes,” he said, continuing the conversation as they headed for the exit.  “We need someone to take the minutes.”

“Ah.”

The velvet night was full of stars as she emerged from the brutalistic building.  

“Nice,” her boss said, glancing up at the sky.  “It looks like the rain stopped.”

*** 

Iseul’s calves burned as she schlepped herself up the last flight of stairs to the rooftop.  Dragging herself across the roof to her door, she made a mental note to buy more laundry detergent, so that she could do laundry on Saturday, and hang it up, as it was supposed to be dry and relatively warm.  

After she unlocked the door, it slowly opened with a haunted creak.  “Honey, I’m home,” she murmured to herself before stepping inside and removing her shoes.  

“Reh.”  Her ancient ragdoll cat, Somteul, who had the voice of a five-pack-a-day smoker, stomped over with a greeting.

“Hey, my baby…”

“Reh.”

“Mm-hm,” Iseul said, putting down her purse, and scooping up her cat, who immediately began her diesel motor impression. “Ah, let’s get you something to eat,” Iseul murmured, heading toward the kitchen.  Upon entering, she noticed a large dark spot on the floor.  Sighing, she looked up to see that the ceiling was leaking.  “Of course,” she muttered, opening the long cabinet by the fridge to remove the mop.  

Once the floor was clean and dry, she put a steel tub under the leak.  That would have to do until the weekend when she would have to climb on top of her apartment to patch it.  Goodness knows that the landlord wouldn’t.  Though she would still report it, in order to free herself from liability.  

Opening the cabinet under the sink, she pulled out a scoop of chickeny-scented brown kibble, and poured it into Somteul’s silver bowl before opening the fridge, pulling out a can of wet food, scooping a tablespoon, and mixing it with the kibble.  The smacking sounds of feline gustation echoed throughout the kitchen, making Iseul smile as she refreshed Somteul’s water bowl.   After several minutes, Iseul shook herself--realizing that she had zoned out watching her cat eat--and headed toward the bathroom for a quick shower.  

She avoided the patch of floor where the water pipe had leaked by the shower stall, causing the floor beam under the tile to rot to the point of being alarmingly soft.  Iseul had stepped on it exactly once since it had grown soft, and ever since had recurring nightmares of stepping on it and falling through the floor into the apartment below.  

After washing up, she shuffled, shivering--swathed in an oversized white tee shirt and loose pajama bottoms--back to the kitchen for a quick dinner of japgokbap, fresh kimchi and homemade gim, with a can of tuna, a little steamed spinach seasoned with ganjang and sesame oil, and a hot cup of boricha, before heading to bed to relax for the rest of the evening.  Collapsing onto the bed, she stared into the middle distance, the quiet of the apartment echoing around her, broken only by the quiet sounds of Somteul doing her own washing up.  

Coming to, Iseul lifted her gaze to regard herself in the mirror.  She sat hunched on the bed, damp hair hanging limp, face cast into sharp relief by the unforgiving light of the single fluorescent bulb in the lamp by her bedside, body comically dwarfed by the shirt, her breath lightly misting in the chill gloom of the underheated apartment.  The bed would be cold, she knew.  

She wished…

She wished.

***

The soft chime of an incoming email caused Iseul to look up from where she was filing the monthly departmental credit card documents.  A new email from her boss.  She rolled closer to the screen to read it.  

The email trail detailed how he had reached out to Jang Hwayoung in Procurement to find a new snack vendor for the lobby.  Hwayoung had sent him the vendor list, and he had chosen a company called 1NB100 that sold sweet cream pastries.  Now he needed Iseul to schedule a meeting with the owner sometime next week, to discuss a possible contract.

Iseul pulled the calendars of the colleagues that her boss wanted to attend the meeting, to see when they were free before emailing the contact for 1NB100 with the currently available dates and times, as well as a request for his analogous availability.  That sent, she returned to her filing.  

Another soft chime caught her attention, and she looked to see that the 1NB100 contact had already responded.  She grinned.  “I love a prompt response.”  Reading the email, she smiled.  Unlike most people, who only gave her one option for availability, this contact had given his analogous availability for all of the dates and times that she had requested.  “And I love it when they follow directions,” she sighed happily while looking up the availability for her department’s conference room.

Unfortunately, it was booked.  After a lengthy search wherein she discovered that almost all of the other conference rooms in the building were also booked, she was finally able to reserve a room.  However, as it was rarely used, being located in the bowels of the building, she would have to go prior to the meeting to check the computer and monitor connections to ensure that everything would be available and ready.  She offered to do it that day, only to learn that the library had actually accidentally lost the key, so the room was off-limits until Facilities could call a locksmith.  Which, Iseul was assured, would happen well before the meeting.

Feeling dubious, Iseul could do nothing but leave and hope for the best.  With trepidation, she sent the meeting invitation to all involved.  The sound of another heavy stack of papers hitting her desk made her cringe, and she turned to see another one of her coworkers standing at her desk, looking sheepish.  Inwardly, she sighed.  “What is it, Sangheesshi?”

***

The day of the meeting, Iseul felt antsy all morning.  Though she had planned to check the A/V system closer to the meeting--unable to dispel the nervousness--she eventually decided to just go early to boot the computer and inspect everything.  Once there, she was glad that she did, as the computer had to run through a million updates before it would let her sign onto the system.  After a purgatory of waiting for it to be updated, Iseul was able to log on, and test the programs that might be used during the meeting.  A soft rustle caught her ear, and she looked up to see a man--not tall, but taller than she--hesitantly hovering in the doorway. 

Her first impression was that he was entirely too skinny.  An open-weave black sweater over a black sleeveless tee hung loosely from broad, but hunched, bony shoulders, and his forearms--exposed by pushed back sleeves and decorated in a variety of chunky silver and black metal bracelets--were rangy.  The man’s legs were swathed in loose black jeans, ripped here and there to show a knobby flash of knee, a wiry thigh, and his feet were encased in no-nonsense black leather steel-toe combat boots.  The hand that gripped a silver laptop was slender, graceful--the long fingers covered in heavy metal rings, almost delicate.  Sharp, but gentle eyes, rimmed in heavy black eyeliner, watched her, and long hair--bleached pale as moonlight--was gathered at the back of his head in a messy bun, with soft, artfully permed wisps framing his face.

Though he wasn’t a large man, his shoulders almost filled the doorway, making Iseul feel slightly discomfited.  

As if sensing her discomfort, the man suddenly bowed.  “Hello,” he said, his voice soft, melodic.  “My name is Byun Baekhyun…I’m here for the meeting?”

“Ah, hello,” she responded, bowing slightly in response.  Then, after a moment of thought, “You can come in and have a seat, if you want.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly, moving into the room to sit at the conference table.  Then, quickly stand.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

Iseul chuckled.  “You can sit down, I’m no one important, trust me.  I’m just the business manager.”

Baekhyun frowned as he sat rather gingerly.  “No, that’s not right.  Administration is often the most important part of a business.”

If there was one thing that Iseul hated, it was disingenuous condescension.  Even so, she kept her eye roll internal, settling for giving him a bland smile.  “Yes, well…”  

After a few seconds of awkward silence, she was ready to make her leave, but before she could, he asked, “My presentation is on my laptop; can I hook it up to the monitor?”

She groaned inwardly.  She was technologically competent, but though she knew enough to impress her halmeoni, and her older coworkers, she could hardly be called savvy.  She looked around the monitor, discomfited to see no usb, or HDMI cables.  “Um, well…”  She thought about it for a moment.  “Could you…email it to yourself, and just log into your email here?”

A shy smile touched his mouth.  “That’s a good idea.  Is it okay?”

Iseul laughed lightly.  “I give you permission.  If anyone has a problem with it, tell them to blame it on me.”  She heard the approaching voice of her boss, and gave Baekhyun a smile.  “Well, it’s that time.  Have a good meeting.”

“Thank you,” he responded politely.

She started to leave, but before she could make it through the door, Baekhyun awkwardly half-stood again, jerked an aborted bow, froze with a look on his face as if he were thinking, and then slowly stood to his full height.  “I’m sorry,” he said, “you--” he stopped.  Started again, “You never told me your name…”

“Iseul.  My name is Kang Iseul,” she answered, before turning the corner.  With that, she slipped out of the door, and returned to her office. 

“Kang Iseulsshi,” he said softly, quietly, all to himself, as if his mouth held a tender secret.  He smiled.  “Iseul.”  

***

Iseul huffed in frustration as the ringing of her desk phone broke her concentration.  Abandoning the disciplinary action letter she was ghostwriting, she looked at the caller ID and groaned.  Putting the phone on speaker, as if having that small barrier between herself and the words that she was going to have to endure would help quell her anxiety, Iseul closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply, exhaling from as she turned down the volume so as to not let the caller’s words travel past her office.  “Hello?”

“Hello, this is Choi Bonggu with Noblesse Life Nursing Home.”  A suspiciously chirpy voice floated from the phone’s speakers.  “Am I speaking with Kang Iseul, the guardian of Kang Samsoonsshi?”

“Ah…yes…”

“Thank you for taking our call, gogaeknim.”

Iseul frowned at the phone.  Our?

“We’re calling today to let you know that Noblesse has been purchased by another company.  In reevaluating the relationship between value provided versus compensation offered, the company has decided that, due to rising assessments on properties, as well as supplementary inflation, they will have to raise the monthly fee for Kang Samsoonsshi’s room and board, effective three months from now.  

“Wait a minute.  I have a contract with Noblesse that stipulates her care in return for the funds from the sale of her house, car, and all other financial assets, as well as a monthly fee of ₩7 million.”

“Yes, we understand, gogaeknim but unfortunately, that contract was with the old company, and now, if you want to continue our relationship, there will be additional fees.”

Iseul once more inhaled as much air as her lungs would allow, and blew it out slowly.  “How much will those additional fees be?”

“If you decide to pursue a new contract with Noblesse Life, then, for Ms. Kang Samsoonsshi to remain in a room with a roommate, it will be ₩9 million per month.”

“You’re increasing the price by ₩2 million per month?!”

“I”m sorry, gogaeknim.  The price has increased.”

Iseul sighed.  “Are there any other options?”

“Yes, of course!  If you would prefer to have her moved to a private room, then that would be just ₩11 million.”

Iseul felt the pounding of blood in her temples.  If I am troubled by a ₩2 million dollar increase, what makes you think that I’d be mollified by the concept of a ₩4 million dollar one?!  “Choi Bonggusshi, I understand that Noblesse life was bought by another company, but I don’t think that it’s right for the facility to nullify a pre-existing contract.”

“Yes…  If you would prefer to no longer avail yourself of our services, then we do understand.  However, due to Kang Samsoonsshi’s poor state of health, we do have to warn you that, should you try to remove her, unless it is directly to another facility, we will have to contact Adult Protective Services, as well as the health department.”

Iseul’s jaw tightened.  “That sounds like a threat.”

“Not at all, gogaeknim; it’s not a threat!  Just information.  Please let us know what you decide, okay?  I will hang up now…” 

Iseul stared at the phone, silently wishing that her glare could spear a hole into whomever decided to take over the facility and break the contract.  ₩2 million?  ₩2 million?!  The majority of her paycheck already went to the facility, leaving her just enough to rent a small, rotten rooftop apartment that had no central heat, or air, and pay for monthly groceries, a phone, and electricity that was only used for a LED bulb in each room, her refrigerator, water heater, washer, electric range, and rice cooker.

“Hello?”  A tentative voice interrupted her increasingly murderous thoughts.  

Closing her eyes, and adjusting her expression, Iseul took a moment to put on her work face before turning toward the door.  

Baekhyun stood there, fidgeting awkwardly with the handle of a large, slouchy black hobo bag.  

She stood, giving a small bow.  “Oh?  Byun Baekhyunsshi?  How may I help you?”

He returned the bow before lifting a folder out of the bag and handing it to her.  “After the meeting, daepyonim accepted my vendor bid, and awarded the contract to me.  I looked over it and approved its terms, so I stamped my seal, and I’m just turning it in to be routed for approvals.”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, as she gripped the paperwork, but didn’t take it.  “You looked over the contract?  Ah…maybe you should have a lawyer look over it?  Just to be safe?”

A small smile touched the side of his mouth and he shook his head.  “It’s fine.  Really.”

Iseul mentally shrugged.  It wasn’t any of her business; she took the contract.  “Thank you, but, you really didn’t have to deliver it directly.  We can route everything through email.”

Baekhyun paled, then flushed, his neck and ears especially turning an alarmingly florid colour.  “Oh, is that so?”  He looked away, chuckling ruefully, but something about his reaction seemed off.  He shrugged, and gestured to the folder.  “Well, you know…I’m here now, so…is it okay?”

“Oh, it’s not a problem,” Iseul reassured him.  “I just hate the idea of you wasting your time coming down here when you don’t have to because it can all be done electronically.”

He smiled slightly, a shy smile, so sweet and charming, that it made Iseul feel warm inside.  “I don’t mind…coming down here.  It’s okay.  I wanted--” he cut himself off, mouth open, then snapped it shut.  Opened it again.  Closed it.  He was starting to look like a particularly interesting species of fish.  His head jerked down, and he slid his hands into his pockets.  “I don’t mind…” he said quietly.  

Ah, Iseul thought.  He’s shy.  She decided to treat him more gently.  “I’ll take care of it,” she assured.  “As a matter of fact, I’ll go give it to daepyonim right now.”  She picked up the folder.

Baekhyun’s eyebrows raised, and his expression froze.  He blinked a couple of times, before he relaxed, blinking rapidly.  “Okay.  Thank you.”  The thanks were quiet, muttered barely on the edge of hearing.  

Iseul looked at him expectantly.  

“Oh!” he said, jerking back a bit before looking around and backing out of the doorway.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder before turning toward her boss’s office.  “I guess I’ll see you around.”  Baekhyun half lifted a hand, as Iseul turned and walked away.  

“Ah!”

She had almost made it to her boss’s office, but turned back slightly at his exclamation.  

“I guess that, if I’m going to be contracted with the City, I should call you sunbaenim, from now on?”

From the corner of her eye, Iseul saw her boss waving her inside.  Distracted, she nodded at Baekhyun.  “Yes, that’s fine.  Whatever you like.”  She entered to deliver the contract, but before she could, her boss’s work mobile rang.  

Without looking, he put it on speaker.  “Sim Soobin’s office.”

A low, throaty purr issued from the speaker, “Hey, baby…”

Iseul’s face flamed.  

Her boss looked flustered, grabbing ineffectually at the phone, which slipped out of his grasp and clattered along his desk.

Iseul tossed the contract on his desk, and practically flew out of the room, her boss’s low, hissed, “How did you get this number?” worming its way into her ears before she could escape.  According to office rumour, her boss was a playboy outside of work, but actually hearing evidence of it was just gross.  

Iseul trotted back down the hall toward her office, but stopped short when she saw something on the floor of her doorway.  Drawing closer, she crouched to pick it up, and saw that it was a phone charger with an attached cord.  She looked around, but didn’t see anyone.  Odd, she thought.  She stood to put it on her desk--whomever it belonged to would recognize that it was missing and probably retrace their steps, when she saw two more items that had slightly rolled under her desk.  Reaching forward, she picked them up.  One was a black lacquered dojang.  Turning it over, she uttered a small, “Oh no!” before looking at the flat plastic card.  Darnit.  Baekhyun’s dojang and ID.  They must have dropped out of that slouchy bag.  She frowned in dismay.  Didn’t the man have a wallet?  

“Hey!  Iseul unnie!”

Iseul looked over her shoulder to see Bang Aera, one of the paralegals and the friendliest person in the department, heading toward her office.  She stood in greeting.  “Hey!” 

“What were you doing down there?” Aera asked.

“This new vendor just left his contract for routing.  Looks like he’s missing something.”

“Oh, no!  Well, just give him a call.”

“I don’t have his contact information.”

“Heol…  Well, he’ll probably retrace his steps.”

“Mm, probably.”

Aera looked down to where Iseul was holding the dojang and ID.  Frowning, she picked up the ID and turned it over.  “Wait a minute.  I know this guy…”

“Oh?  Do you want to give this back to him?”  

“No.  I mean--I can’t.  We went to high school together, but I don’t have his contact information, or know where he lives, or anything.”  She paused.  “So…he left his ID in your office?”

“Probably fell out of his bag.  It was pretty slouchy, and didn’t have any sort of closure.”

“Mm.”  Aera handed the ID back to Iseul, with a thoughtful air.

“What is it?”  Iseul asked.

Aera shook her head and smiled.  “Nothing.”  Her smile faltered and she paused.  “Just…be careful.”

“Be careful?  Of what?”  Iseul’s curiosity was piqued.

Aera looked uncomfortable, fidgeting from one foot to the other.  “Nothing bad, it’s just that…in high school, he was known for being kind of…intense.”

“Intense?”  Iseul repeated in surprise.  “As in violent?”

Aera’s eyes widened, and she shook her hands in negation.  “Not at all!  He never hurt anyone, he just…y’know…had a couple of…crushes.”

Iseul waited, but when Aera didn’t continue, she tilted her head.  “Okay…?  Didn’t we all?”

Aera laughed, but it was weak.  “I know, I know, but he just…like…he just…when he got a crush, he just became really focused, is all.”

“Like a stalker?”

“No, nothing like that.  It’s hard to explain.  He never really did anything…aside from buying them drinks and snacks, and leaving them on their desks.  Or little gifts.”  Her brow wrinkled in thought.  “One time he wrote a poem and slipped it into one girl’s locker.”

“Mm, he sounds really dangerous.”

Aera flushed.  “You had to be there.  The way that he stared.  I don’t know.  He just would kind of…hyperfixate on a girl until she would turn him down, and then he’d look so sad.  It was really uncomfortable.”

Iseul nodded.  “I think I know what you mean.  But that was years ago; he has probably grown out of it.  Besides, I’m well past crushing years, so I don’t think that I have to worry.  As it is, he could barely even look me in the eye.”

“Is that so?  That’s a relief.”

“So…were you looking for me?”

“Yes!  I routed an agreement to daepyonim a few days ago, and it’s rather time-sensitive, but I haven’t heard anything.  Could you…?”

“I’ll remind him, and stay on top of it,” Iseul assured her.

Aera’s smile was infectious.  “Thank you!”

“It’s okay.  Just to be safe though, send me an email, so I don’t forget.”

“I’ll go do that right now.”

“Mm, bye!”

As Aera left, Iseul hurried to her boss’s office to see if he had Baekhyun’s contact information, but he was already gone.  Returning to her office, she checked her boss’s calendar, tsking in dismay when she saw that he would be in a meeting for the rest of the day. With no other course of action, she opened her office safe where sensitive documents, and her business credit card resided, and put Baekhyun’s things on the top shelf before sending an email to staff letting them know to tell him that she had his things if he came looking for them.  

***

Some days later, Iseul was walking into City Hall, when something new in the corner caught her eye.  A vendor cart, with pictures of sweet cream pastries was newly stationed there, with Baekhyun behind it, dutifully, if listlessly, selling danishes, and tea.  Ah, perfect! She thought.  Heading over, she waited in line.  Because he was efficient, the line shortened quickly, but it wasn’t until she was three customers deep that he noticed her.  

He didn’t look at her long, but a sudden, shy smile lit up his face. Finally, when she was at the front of the line he made his greetings.  “Welcome, sunbaenim.  What would you like?”

“Actually, I’m here for you.”  His eyes widened, but before he could react the wrong way, Iseul explained.  “You left your dojang, and your ID in my office.  And your charger, I think.”

A profound look of relief washed over his face, and he put a hand over his heart.  “That’s a relief.  I’ve been looking for them!”

“I’ll go get them and bring them to you now, okay?”

He smiled gently.  “Okay.  Thank you.”

“No thanks necessary.  I’m just glad that I could return them to you. I know how anxiety-inducing it is to lose something important.”

Baekhyun perked up a little at that.  “You get anxious?”

“Well…it was never debilitating, and I’ve mostly overcome it, but…yes.  Everyone gets anxious sometimes.”

“How did you do it?”

Iseul shrugged, discomfited.  “Life…  Anyway, let me go bring your stuff.”  

When she returned with his things, Baekhyun beamed.  “Thank you, thank you!”  An idea seemed to occur to him, and he gestured to his cart.  “Would you like a danish?”

“Oh, no thank you.”

“They’re good,” he said earnestly.

Iseul chuckled.  “They look delicious, but I left my wallet upstairs.”

“Oh, no,” he said with a little shake of his head.  “Service.  For bringing my ID.”

Iseul looked at the lovely, flakey, warm golden pastries.  They were square, each with a generous round dollop of cream cheese in the centre, some sprinkled, or drizzled with other ingredients.  Looking at the little handwritten signs, she read the flavours--blueberry, strawberry, taro, plain, honey-butter, matcha, red-bean, raspberry, and pistachio.  She smiled.  “Well, they all look so good, but,” she put a hand on her stomach, “I really shouldn’t.  My metabolism isn’t what it used to be.”

“A cup of tea, then?”

Now that was truly tempting.  It was a chilly spring, and Iseul usually had trouble getting warm.  “Well…”

He grabbed a large cup and flipped it over.  “What flavour?”

“A small would do,” she said weakly.

He just smiled, writing her name on the cup.  “What flavour would you like, sunbaenim?” he asked softly.  She looked at the board above his head, but before she could finish reading, he started listing them, drawing her attention back to his face.  “Today we have mint, nokcha, boricha, chai, honey-citron, baegyeopcha, earl grey, cornsilk, our proprietary honeybush-rooibos cinnamon spice blend…”

“They all sound tempting…  It’s so hard to choose; it’s a bit overwhelming.”

Baekhyun tilted his head.  “Would you…like me to choose for you?”

“Please?”

“Alright,” he said quietly, turning to a gleaming row of steaming silver kettles.  “How about cinnamon spice?  I blended it myself; it’s naturally sweet.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Did you want sugar or honey?”

“Neither, if it’s already sweet.”

He nodded in approval, smiling as he watched the steaming reddish brown liquid fill the cup.  “Cream?  Lemon?”

She shook her head.  “Oh, not cream!  It sounds delicious, but it doesn’t agree with me.”

Baekhyun paused.  Lifted his head, looking off into the distance before orienting his gaze on Iseul.  “Do you like…oat cream?”

“Oat…what?”

His eyes lit up.  “Oat cream.  Here.”  He reached for another silver kettle--this one on ice, and poured a creamy liquid into a small cup.  “Try it.”

Uncertain, Iseul lifted the cup to her lips, and cautiously tasted the cream.  Her eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “It’s good!”

Lifting the kettle once more, Baekhyun poured the cream into her tea with a small, self-satisfied smile, before putting on a top, and handing it to her.  “Taste it.  It’s not too hot--the cream cooled it down.”

Trusting his words, Iseul took a sip.  The flavour of sweet, warm, vanilla and cinnamon cream filled .  “Mm!  Wah…  It’s delicious!  Thank you!”  The sound of a cleared throat made her spin, and she gasped in dismay to see a full line had materialized behind her.  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, bowing to the frowning man behind her.  “Ah, thank you, Baekhyunsshi!” she called, waving to him as she hurried away from the scene of the crime.  “I’ll enjoy it!”  Before he could respond, she scuttled around the corner, and away from the disapproving looks of the people who had been waiting in line.

***

The next week found Iseul in her office, working on a presentation for the Council. 

“Hey, could you do me a favour?”

Iseul looked up to see her boss standing in the doorway to her office.  “Of course.”

“We just scheduled a last-minute leadership meeting that’s going to go through lunch.  Could you provide food?”

“Sure, what are you thinking?”

“You know I like anything; I trust you.”

“Anyone have any allergies?”

“Not that I know of; you might want to check with the group.”

“Who’s in it?”

“Just look at the meeting on my calendar from 11 to 3.”

“11 AM, got it.”

Iseul checked the meeting invitation.  Nine people.  That wasn’t too bad…  She sent an email to all of them, cc’ing their assistants, then looked in her folder of restaurants with which she had already created service contracts.  Apparently the others in her position used to only use two or three chain restaurants, but that was boring, and Iseul didn’t want to do that, so when she was hired, she contacted every local restaurant in the area that made good food to set up a food service contract with them.  She was sure that her old coworkers in Procurement thought that she had gone insane with all of the forms she was sending, but having everything already set up came in handy when she needed to get food quickly.  Also, she thought that it made more sense to reinvest tax dollars back into local small businesses rather than support corporate chains.  

As the responses to her email began to chime, the name of a nearby Chinese-Korean place caught her eye.  After a few calls to some people who didn’t answer her email (and a few office visits), she called the restaurant, explained who she was, and how the transaction had to go (as City departments didn’t pay taxes), waited for them to find someone who could input the transaction into the cash register properly, and then made her order.  

“That will be ₩210,000 won.”

Iseul frowned.  “₩210,000?  It came out to ₩180,000 when I did the math.  Did you forget to remove the taxes?”

“Well, it’s ₩10,000 for delivery.”

“Okay...”  Fair, Iseul thought.  

“And we charge an extra ₩20,000 for large orders delivered to businesses.”

“So…if this weren’t a ‘business’, as you say, would there still be an extra ₩20,000 charge?”

“No.”

“Does the extra money go to the delivery person?”

“No.”

Iseul’s brain short-circuited.   “Then…you charge businesses more for…giving you more business?  For paying you more?”

“Yes.”

Her brain didn’t even have to struggle to join the party, as Iseul’s mouth had already taken over.  “Alright, then I’d like to make that order for pickup, please.”

There was a pause, and the sound of keys clacking.  Then, “Your total comes to ₩180,000.”

“Excellent.  I’ll be there by 10:30.”

***

Sometimes, Iseul wished that she weren’t such a good custodian of taxpayer dollars.  That she had the ability to sacrifice City funds for the sake of convenience.  

This was one of those times.  

She struggled into the revolving door of the City Hall building, her arms weighted down by heavy bags of steaming hot food.  As she lumbered toward the antechamber door that required ID to open, she despaired.  She didn’t have the strength to lift an armful of bags high enough to press her ID against the card reader.  She would have to put them down, and the concept of having sweet release for a few seconds only to have to once again shoulder her weary load made her growl.  Iseul inhaled deeply, letting out her breath in a sigh, before bending to put down the bags.  

She rose just in time to see a pale, slender hand, with delicate veins arching toward the wrist like scrollwork, press an ID to the reader.  Iseul turned toward the man to thank him, then started in surprise.  “Oh?  Byun Baekhyunsshi.”