There was an odd chill in his flat tone. The cold edge coming from the side made goosebumps rise along Hae-som’s neck.
Jae-geon turned his back on her altogether and faced Hwi and Jae-min, who had been quietly prepping. Team leader Seung-jun was still tied up in a meeting.
“No answer?”
It wasn’t directed at her, but it was clearly a criticism aimed her way. The back of her ears felt like they were being pulled tight. Hae-som set the knife down on the board and looked up.
Hwi answered with a glance that said, what is it this time?
“Team leader told her.”
“Han Seung-jun?”
His tone said that was impossible. He had made it obvious from day one that he didn’t like her, so Hae-som hadn’t expected him to give her this chance either.
“Yes. He said since she came for training, we shouldn’t just give her chores. Told us to let her practice knife work little by little. It’s just carrots anyway—we grind them up later, so no waste.”
Jae-geon flicked his eyes over the cutting board.
“2mm julienne?”
“Yes.”
A thick piece that clearly didn’t meet the standard was picked up by his fingers without a pause.
She expected him to hold it up like evidence and snap, Is this julienne to you? It’s thicker than a baton. Instead, he bit into the carrot stick with a crisp crunch, erased the evidence, and gave a small, satisfied smile.
“Not bad.”
That didn’t feel like him covering for her mistake. Was this some new kind of criticism?
Startled, Hae-som quickly scraped the leftover pieces together and handed them to Hwi. He glanced over the results with narrowed eyes and reacted the same way.
“Oh, your knife work’s decent.”
Maybe it was her state of mind, but the praise didn’t feel like praise.
Hae-som dragged herself back to her station, cleared the board, and tidied up. Jae-geon had taken his place—felt like she should step away now.
Maybe she should reorganize the walk-in fridge, which now felt like her second home. Or go to the fermentation room, which was fun like a playground, and clean jars.
But she didn’t need to think of something to do.
“I’m testing a green apple tart. Bring the filling ingredients.”
The moment Jae-geon spoke, her retreat was cut off.
The dessert station was right there—so why run a dessert test in the crowded main kitchen?
Considering Woon-seop’s large build, it wasn’t that strange. But for Hae-som, who needed distance from Jae-geon, it felt like a trap.
It could have been the perfect chance to bring up Cha Ji-won… but looking at his cold face, her dry lips refused to open.
He would obviously look down on her, talking about common sense and intelligence.
Pressing her eyes that throbbed with nerves, Hae-som went over the order.
“Three Granny Smiths, unsalted butter, Calvados.”
The apples and butter were in the produce and dairy fridge, while the alcohol—Calvados—would be at the bar where Jun-won was working. But she needed to cool down first, so she came straight to the walk-in fridge.
As she walked through the chilled space, her attention shifted to the neatly arranged ingredients.
“Huh? Why is this here?”
It was strange. She had placed the container of green apples on the lower shelf that morning, yet now it sat on the very top shelf.
Heavy items like apples belonged on the bottom—that was basic common sense.
Not even considering that someone might have done it on purpose, Hae-som just frowned up at it.
She stretched on her toes, reaching as far as she could, but couldn’t touch it. She was about to drag over a milk crate to climb up.
Click. Bang!
The heavy stainless door swung open, and Jae-geon stepped in, crossing the distance in a breath.
“I thought you went out to pick apples yourself.”
Given the height, it might as well have been.
Her lips twitched, wanting to complain about whoever had moved them, but the moment she felt his gaze, they pulled shut like a startled snail.
“I sent you on an errand, and you went silent. I came to see if you were secretly calling me out on a date.”
Was Editor Cha Ji-won—famous for chasing men—trying to win him back with this kind of low-level flirting?
Between the two sides, both had strange tastes.
And here she was, burning up in the cold air—maybe she wasn’t that different.
“Or are you planning to slack off during your internship?”
The confidence she had gathered crumbled. She lowered her head and muttered, barely audible.
“The apples are too high.”
“What?”
“The apples…”
The next moment, Jae-geon planted one arm against the wall, trapping her in place. The faint warmth from his close presence sent her heartbeat racing. It grew louder than the hum of the refrigerator.
With one hand, he easily grabbed four apples and placed three into her palm. The last one stayed with him.
Crunch.
Juice burst from the bite he took, trailing down his chin. Hae-som couldn’t look away from the line it drew along his throat.
He was the one eating, yet somehow her own mouth felt dry, then damp.
Crunch.
At the sound of the tart’s crisp shell breaking, Hae-som visibly flinched.
Jae-geon was in a meeting for the second-quarter menu tasting, and the same went for CDP Seung-jun.
Hwi and Jae-min leaned close together, digging into the freshly baked green apple tart.
Jae-min studied the small tart closely, then gave in and ate it in one bite.
“Ah… this is why I hate the chef.”
“You eat it just fine, so what nonsense is that?”
“What’s the point of us racking our brains to develop new dishes? The chef just throws something together and it tastes ten times better.”
“That’s why he’s the one in charge.”
“Woon-seop hyung said he’d definitely win the new menu incentive this time. Guess not.”
“Looks that way.”
How good was it for them to praise it like that? But Hae-som’s mouth felt dry with exhaustion.
If she could just sleep for thirty minutes…
Or are you planning to slack off during your internship?
She had only stepped away for five minutes and already got called out—what was she even thinking? Still, her body felt close to collapse.
Stretching her stiff muscles, Hae-som approached them. The tart shell, barely larger than a coin, was filled with green apple filling, topped with fresh green yuzu zest like tiny sprouts.
Jae-geon’s dishes were usually clean and composed, but his desserts leaned cute and playful. The contrast made her let out a small laugh.
“Can I try one?”
Hwi quickly grabbed her sleeve.
“Of course. Eat before this kid finishes everything.”
“Hey, hyung!”
Ignoring their usual bickering, now familiar to her, Hae-som picked up one tart.
First came the fresh scent of green yuzu, then the sweet and sour apple filling.
Jae-geon biting into the apple flashed in her mind—then the way he suddenly appeared, throwing out words that felt like both flirting and scolding.
The delicate texture and mild sweetness broke apart in her mouth, but felt dulled by the stronger feelings running through her.
Hae-som shook her head, trying to clear the heat rising inside.
Through her blurred vision, she saw the chefs gathered at table three. Jae-geon sat there, as cool and distant as ever.
Hwi, watching her, smoothly changed the subject. Hae-som didn’t notice, but more than a few eyes had been going back and forth between her and Jae-geon.
“Oh right, this is your first new menu tasting, isn’t it? Chef hasn’t explained yet?”
“No.”
“Other restaurants keep signature dishes, but we change menus every quarter. Most are the chef’s recipes, but sometimes our ideas get picked. Chances are low, but if you make it, the payout’s good.”
“Incentives?”
“Yeah. Not just for new dishes—there’s bonus pay every quarter. Changing the whole menu isn’t easy. Takes a lot of work.”
Since the chef recognized their effort, no one seemed to complain. Hae-som suddenly remembered Song Ji saying the company benefits were great thanks to strong sponsors.
“Is the summer menu decided?”
“Probably within this week. Maybe even today.”
Jae-min sighed deeply, all his earlier cheer gone.
“Hell gate’s opening. Need a drink before things get worse.”
“We haven’t had a team outing since the new recruit joined. Should we go today?”
“I’m in.”
Pushed along by the mood, Hae-som nodded, then hesitated.
“Will the chef be coming too?”
* About 2mm thin strips.
* About 6mm thick sticks.