Chapter Text
Lee Seok-jun keeps his eyes on the ground as the elevator doors close, using all of his willpower not to look up, not to lock eyes with Yang Ju-ran again. Finally he is alone, and he looks up at the ceiling.
That was awkward.
He'd known, when he told Mr. Yu that she should lead the project, that he'd likely see Yang Ju-ran again. So he'd tried to prepare: he wouldn't even look her way, he'd maintain his customary icy professional demeanor that always kept people at a distance, he'd focus his attention on sniffing out issues with Ms. Kang and Mr. Yu and not even notice whether there were others in the room. Very doable.
Of course, when has Yang Ju-ran ever made things easy for him?
She's different now. Seok-jun would deny having ever thought of her, but the pathetically grateful woman that accosted him today surprises him with her servility. He shouldn't have to tell her she's capable of the job.
He supposes he could have handled the whole interaction more smoothly — when he finally braced himself and turned to look at her he was so struck by the sight of her, in the flesh, he forgot to respond, which made her ramble nervously.
But what was she talking about? Why wouldn't he trust her to lead this project? Of course he'd checked her employee record but quite beside that — was he supposed to have forgotten ?
Maybe she had forgotten; it was long habit of his to make corrections to employees who could use the guidance — and if he'd been thinking straight he might not have chosen to do that to Yang Ju-ran — but when he did she didn't raise her eyebrows or make a wry comment, she just accepted it. Meekly. As if he were any other superior giving unsolicited advice.
The vision of her uncertain face slowly fades into an older memory: her stricken expression when he ended their association all those years ago. Maybe the problem isn't that she's forgotten him, but that she hasn't .
At any rate, he doesn't like the way he feels after this interaction, so the best thing to do will be to keep avoiding her. He's made his point to Yu Ji-hyuk, so he doesn't need to sit in on all marketing meetings. He can watch Kang Ji-won without being in the middle of their team dynamics and making it awkward.
It's a good plan.
The plan works until she hails him from the cab next to his motorcycle, a few weeks later.
"Help me, please." Her voice is panicked, and he gets the distinct sense that she's asking him despite who he is, rather than because of it. "My daughter, she's home alone — the traffic — "
A U&K employee with a problem that he can easily solve? He doesn't even have to think about it. "I'll take you," he says simply. He fishes his spare helmet out of the pannier and indicates she can put her work there instead, while he takes care of the cab fare.
"Where are you going?" he asks as she settles behind him. She gives him the address and he nods; he knows where that is. "I'll get you there. Ms. Yang, you'll need to hold onto me for us to travel safely."
To her credit, she doesn't hesitate any longer to slide her arms around his waist, her concern for her child outweighing whatever doubts she has.
Seok-jun, on the other hand, is suddenly full of doubt. Yang Ju-ran is so close to him. He can feel her fingers gripping together, feel her ribs expand as she breathes too quickly. Emotions that he thought he discarded years ago are starting to surface, so he kicks the motorcycle into gear and tries to outrun them.
After he's dropped Yang Ju-ran off at her home and accepted her hurried (yet heartfelt) thanks, Seok-jun takes a moment to breathe. Over the years he's become convinced that...feelings...just aren't for him. He's earned his ruthless reputation and he revels in being indispensable. He hasn't so much as thought about another person romantically for so long that it's basically part of his identity.
So it's honestly pretty upsetting to discover that the brief aberration in his past is more of a pattern — at least when it comes to Yang Ju-ran.
He allows himself one more frustrated sigh, then briskly replaces the spare helmet into its carrier and starts to drive. Now that he knows what malarkey is going on inside him, he can be even more vigilant. Feelings aren't relevant. His duty is to the Chairman, and to U&K, and while he probably can't avoid Yang Ju-ran forever, he can keep that duty in the forefront of his mind, and it will protect him.
After all, she's even more out of reach than she was before. It can only serve him to ignore his traitorous heart and keep himself as busy as possible. And this issue that Yu Ji-hyuk is embroiled in will definitely fit the bill.
***
Seok-jun doesn't really want to be Yu Ji-hyuk's adversary. He sees a lot of potential for their working relationship in the future, even though it's ironic that Yu Ji-hyuk's insubordination is what gives him that impression. And the consequence of this insubordination is also what threatens Ji-hyuk's willingness to trust him the way the Chairman does. It's delicate to balance his primary duty of attempting to minimize scandal to the Yu family while still ingratiating himself as someone of use to the young manager, but sensitive operations like this are Seok-jun's specialty.
To that end, he makes doubly sure his face expresses none of the amusement he feels, seeing Yu Ji-hyuk glowering at him across the desk. It's clear he's still not forgiven for interfering — and he's sure Yu Ji-hyuk doesn't know the extent of his surveillance. But seeing any amount of petulance is more personality than he's shown before now, and Seok-jun can work with that.
The purpose of their meeting today isn't Kang Ji-won, so hopefully they can keep hostilities minimal.
"Manager Kim's suspension will be ending soon. My recommendation is that when he returns, he's demoted. According to feedback received over the years, his leadership is bad for morale, quite aside from the incident with Director Wang."
Now, if Seok-jun did want to start a fight, he'd ask Mr. Yu why he allowed this to go on for so long. But he knows it's difficult to remove someone who has connections in upper management, so maybe this is just the first chance he's had. Or maybe, Mr. Yu didn't care until he decided to take a more...hands-on approach to the team. (Some team members more than others, but he is resisting the temptation to goad him.)
"I suggest Yang Ju-ran as the new manager. You should tell her the good news, and I'll handle Mr. Kim."
"What, you don't want to tell her yourself? She's eligible for the promotion because you put her in charge of the meal-kit project, and she knows it. Wouldn't it make sense for you to inform her?"
Seok-jun tries to stay impassive. "I would prefer not to."
Yu Ji-hyuk raises his eyebrows, clearly interested in that response. But Seok-jun's not about to tell him about his goal to avoid Yang Ju-ran as much as possible, made more important by the re-emergence of his feelings for her.
In fact, since his revelation after she rode on his motorcycle, he's been remembering a lot more about the past, memories seeping past his iron will.
He'd already had a reputation by the time they were assigned together on a special project at the HRD Institute, but she had impressed him not only with her competence but her easy kindness to all team members — including him. In idle moments, Seok-jun keeps seeing flashes of their conversations: him standoffish, her unbothered, as they discussed finer details of the project. She hadn't been afraid of him, and that made him want to spend more time with her.
What really haunts him, though, is his newfound uncertainty that he handled their ending appropriately.
She was so good — at her job, yes, but also with him — that he'd fully planned to make a place for her on his team when the project ended. He was just starting to accept that his desire for her company at all times was a romantic attraction, though he was going to wait quite a while before broaching that topic. A better job, though, he could make happen.
But then he overheard her telling a colleague it was a relief to have her old spot on the Marketing team held for her after the project ended.
"And a relief to get away from ol' Stoneface, too, I imagine?" replied her coworker.
Seok-jun chose that moment to walk into sight, so Yang Ju-ran didn't have a chance to answer, but her abashed face told him all he needed to know.
So after that, there was no job. And nothing else either.
Now he suspects that he let his emotions lead instead of his reason (which is galling). Maybe she would have taken the new position if he'd offered it. And maybe she wasn't dying to get away from him. He can't know.
He does know that it's irked him to see her languishing on the Marketing Team when she had so much potential before. It honestly feels like his duty to put her career on a better track — penance for how the company could have thrived before if he'd done the right thing back then.
He'd still rather not see her if he can help it.
Yu Ji-hyuk is still assessing him. Seok-jun nods curtly and hands him the promotion paperwork. "She deserves it," he states.
***
Seok-jun walks into the storage room at the office with a barely suppressed sigh. HR work is draining, and Marketing Team 1 seems to have more than its share of interpersonal issues right now. And, of course, Kang Ji-won is in the middle of it all. Why Yu Ji-hyuk seems determined to be involved with her, Seok-jun simply does not understand. It's almost enough to drive him back to smoking, but he's determined to stick with the mints.
At least there is the small blessing that he hasn't had occasion to interact with —
"Excuse me, you can't smoke — "
Yang Ju-ran.
She quickly realizes her mistake, and Seok-jun takes the opportunity to put a mint in his mouth. It's grounding. Think of work, of your job, your responsibilities.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, as sternly as he can muster.
"Oh, I come here for some peace when I need to think alone."
"This is a place of work, Ms. Yang," he replies, staring her down. "Not your place to think alone."
She tilts her head slightly. "Aren't you here to think in peace? You don't seem the type to come to storage on your own account."
He looks away. Yang Ju-ran probably doesn't remember the specifics enough to do this on purpose, but with the memories flooding him lately he can't help but flinch: it was a statement about what "type" of person he might be that was the final nail in the coffin of their relationship (such as it was).
That last day he'd already been sullen toward her, convinced that she couldn't wait to leave him, so her tentative congratulations on a successful project was swiftly rebuffed. He even ignored her handshake.
"So, this is goodbye?" she'd said. "Just like that?"
"I am sure that I did not treat you with any warmth that would indicate this is anything otherwise," he'd replied coldly.
She'd blinked rapidly, but rallied. "But tell me this," she said. "Aren't you the type to be cold to everyone, whether or not you care about them?'
At the time, he couldn't believe she was dragging it out like this. He'd made his position clear, and so had she (he thought). Was she right about him? He didn't know, but he didn't like her presumption that she could speak like this, especially when he was trying to end things.
"People who think they can read others and judge them based on what little they observe..." He gazed at her disdainfully. "I hate those kinds of people."
Seok-jun's brain is trying to communicate something to him, and he finally processes through the flinch enough to realize: he was officious toward Yang Ju-ran just now and she didn't immediately accept his criticism in abject humility. "Acting like you know me again," he murmurs accidentally.
He hurriedly turns back toward her and casts about for something to say to cover what he said. Something about work ...
"You don't seem thrilled about your promotion," he says, which has the benefit of being true and also hopefully distracting from his slip-up. "Don't worry about Mr. Kim. You should've been promoted years ago based on merit." And if I'd been fair to you in the first place .
"It's just — the meal kit was part of your consideration, wasn't it? Everything about that project truly belongs to Kang Ji-won. She thought of it originally and has been integral every step of the way. If anyone deserves the promotion, she does."
Seok-jun doesn't roll his eyes, but it's a near thing. He doesn't know if this is an illustration of her lack of confidence in her abilities or an overdeveloped sense of fairness, but he can't believe she'd willingly give up what he's trying to give to her — what the company's trying to give to her (in favor of Kang Ji-won, no less. He'll grant that she's capable, but everyone on her team is obsessed). As pleasantly surprised as he is that she's speaking so cogently to him, her reasoning is faulty.
Yang Ju-ran smiles, which pricks Seok-jun's heart a bit. "I feel much better having said that. I hope you keep in mind what I've told you before you make the final decision on who is receiving the promotion." She bows and begins to walk away.
Seok-jun should let her go, but he's so incensed at this idea that she's less deserving that he has to retrieve another candy and say, "Don't forget that Mr. Kim originally got promoted based on your work." He focuses on the taste, keeping his back to her. "You don't know how to take a win, Ms. Yang."
"People who think they can read others and judge them based on what little they observe..."
He turns to stare at her in shock. Clearly he underestimated how well Yang Ju-ran remembered that pivotal conversation. Maybe she's like him, haunted by how it ended. If she's about to throw the things he said back in his face, it's no more than he deserves.
Instead, she smiles at him. "I like those kinds of people. If they're right." She sighs. "And you are right, Mr. Lee. I'm a pushover. I'm more comfortable that way."
One more polite smile and she's out the door, but he's frozen.
He's underestimated both her memory and her kindness.
This whole encounter has confused him — she was closer to the woman he remembers than the cowed subordinate he's been dealing with. But to end by implying she likes him? After everything he's done to her? She must mean only that she doesn't hate him, that for the sake of the company she's willing to look past his offenses. Anything else makes no sense.
It really shouldn't be a three-mint break, but he needs this last one. He savors it, and allows himself one more moment to bask in the memory of her smile. Then he locks his feelings away. Time to go back to work.