“You heard that too, right? The rumor about Jae-geon and Cha Ji-won.”

“Heard what?”

“So I was right. Cha Ji-won’s the one clinging to him.”

“That’s how it looked to me too. He seemed sick of it.”

“From Jae-geon’s side, that makes sense.”

“Why?”

Hae-som couldn’t bring herself to drink her coffee. She just worried the straw between her fingers, tension tightening for no clear reason.

“I heard Cha Ji-won got dumped after she was caught cheating, and then couldn’t accept it. Maybe that’s when the stalking started.”

“Our Chef?”

“Yeah. Apparently the hundreds of calls a day were just the start. She even trespassed. I heard she caused such a scene at the restaurant that she ended up with a restraining order. Preview tasting was only allowed because it counted as official business.”

Hae-som’s eyes, which had been dull with shock, sharpened to pinpoints.

Ah, now it makes sense. Since she couldn’t go there in person to persuade him, she must have sent herself to Jae-geon under the pretense of a recommendation letter, and they must have met up again and hooked up somehow.

“They say he’s tall, handsome, and has a nice voice. Looks probably account for half of it. The nice voice is just a bonus.”

“What about the other half?”

Song Ji poked Hae-som in the waist and chuckled playfully.

“You always have to show your inexperience in moments like this, Seong Hae-som.”

She’s not a virgin anymore.

But she couldn’t tell Song Ji that. Song Ji would definitely try to find out who the guy was, and if she told the truth, she’d obviously be lumped in with the rest and treated like an animal.

Still, she was somewhat curious.

“I remember. He was your first boyfriend, wasn’t he?”

“I slept with him a few more times because I was obsessed with his looks, but trying to act like I was into him when I wasn’t made me feel totally out of it. As that went on, I just couldn’t see him as a man anymore.”

So does that mean Ji-won was just infatuated with his looks and even went so far as to stalk him? Though, seeing as she booked a hotel room, it doesn’t quite seem like that.

What was Jae-geon thinking when he spent the night with her? Love-hate? Pity? Or just physical desire?

In their world, spending one night together probably isn’t a big deal. But for Hae-som, who had never held the hand of a man other than her dad’s or a monk’s, it came as quite a shock.

She let him hold her, kissed him, and then… Sigh.

Song Ji made a big fuss, waving her hand to wipe the haze of lewd thoughts from her eyes.

“Hey, hey—ten o’clock. Found a total knockout. He’s so damn handsome. My mouth’s watering.”

Just a second ago Song Ji had looked half-dead from the heat, and now her voice was bright again. The shift tugged Hae-som’s mood up with it, and she played along with a shrug.

“Told you Seochon’s full of good finds.”

Hae-som followed Song Ji’s glance—and nearly yelped.

That side profile, walking up the Seochon street with a slim shopping bag looped around one wrist, could only be Jae-geon.

Hwi wasn’t here for her to hide behind this time, so Hae-som scooted closer to Song Ji instead. Her heart pounded so hard it felt helpless. The air conditioner was blasting, but heat still rushed through her body.

At the sudden movement, Song Ji shot her a puzzled look.

“What are you doing?”

“Is he gone?”

“Who? Seochon’s latest hot spot?”

“Yeah.”

Song Ji glanced around the alley, then gave a small nod. Only then did Hae-som let out a breath and pour coffee down her dry, burning throat.

Never realizing Jae-geon’s gaze still lingered beneath the café eaves the whole time.

---

The sunset over Inwangsan was spectacular. If Song Ji were still here, they could have watched it together, but she had hurried off, saying she needed to beat the traffic, and Hae-som was alone again.

Leaving at four on the dot—such is the misery of living out in Gyeonggi. You’re not going?

Since I’m already in Seochon, I thought I’d stay, practice, and sleep there. I have work tomorrow anyway.

You really are something else.

No one was going to notice all this effort, yet she was stubborn enough to keep at it anyway.

Afraid her private motives might show on her face, Hae-som buried them under a vague smile.

The truth was, part of her did want Jae-geon to notice. She wanted word of how hard she worked to reach his ears.

It seemed she still hadn’t quite let go of the hope that her practicum might be extended.

And if she was honest, she also wanted him to be at Not. Maybe if she faced him head-on, she could at least win herself a little sleep.

Insomnia spared no one. After nearly a week of sleepless nights, her thoughts kept drifting toward the simplest, surest answer.

Leaving all those thoughts behind on the streets of Seochon, Hae-som gathered the ingredients she had bought at Tongin Market for practice and headed into Not.

The first thing that met her was the rich hiss of oil and the smell of something savory frying. She noticed the presence next. She heard Jae-geon’s voice only after stepping into the main station.

“You’re late.”

He said it like he had been waiting. She had been out to lunch with Song Ji and then stayed talking for ages, so at least two or three hours must have passed.

Come to think of it, this was the first time they had spoken alone like this since that day. Facing Jae-geon made her nerves twist, but she had to get a grip.

She swallowed the little moisture she could gather in her dry mouth, cleared her throat, and walked over to him, pressing her nails into her palm hard enough to leave marks.

“How did you know I’d come?”

“I heard there’s a repeat offender who practices in my kitchen without permission.”

Jae-geon’s cool gaze dropped to the plastic bag hanging from her wrist.

“Given the circumstances, who else could it be?”

It didn’t seem like a real scolding. A faint crack of a smile touched the corner of his neat mouth.

Too embarrassed to make excuses, Hae-som shifted her attention to what he was cooking.

A light beef broth sat ready, along with sliced shank, sea bream, abalone, radish, red chili, stone ear mushroom, and minari cut into strips no thicker than a pencil. Nearby was a batter made from ground mung beans and assorted nuts. The form was different, but the ingredients were unmistakably for sinseollo.

“Are you making sinseollo?”

“I found a good distilled liquor. Want to try it?”

Jae-geon handed over the glass he’d been drinking from. She considered pouring some into a measuring cup, but decided against it. After all, we’d even kissed—why act all coy now? She knew Jae-geon would definitely call her out on it.

Without thinking, she tipped it back in one shot. The proof was far beyond ordinary soju, and heat flared straight down her throat. It felt like a slap across tender skin.

Jae-geon clicked his tongue when he saw how red her neck had turned.

“I’ve seen plenty of people overdo it trying to act like drinkers.”

Would it have killed him to warn her first? Though to be fair, she had thrown it back so fast he hadn’t had much of a chance.

Hae-som bit down on her sulky lower lip and tried to pick out the flavor spreading down her esophagus. Beneath the sharp alcohol, the scent of sweet potato slowly rose and soaked into her senses.

“What kind of liquor is it?”

“Gamjeo soju.”

The same scent wafted from his breath. Just thinking about it made Hae-som’s mouth go dry.

Her mouth, which had been parched, suddenly became flooded with saliva.

On a properly heated cast-iron pan, he arranged the prepared ingredients in a circle. The mung bean batter spread over them with a delicious hiss. Once the fish had cooked through, he flipped it, and the whole thing turned into a jeon shaped like sinseollo.

Then he poured broth into the rim of a brass bowl with a raised center and set the round jeon on top. It looked exactly like a bowl of sinseollo.

“This idea is incredible, Chef!”

Clap, clap, clap. As if he were tired of applause from a one-person audience, Jae-geon ignored her praise and tucked a spoon between her index and middle fingers.

“Don’t just swallow it whole. Taste it with the pairing in mind.”

“Yes, Chef.”

“Want another pour?”

“Yes.”

Hae-som took a huge bite of the piece, barely bigger than two joints of Jae-geon’s finger.

The ingredients were simplified, and so was the cooking method, but somehow it tasted deeper than traditional sinseollo. Maybe the sweetness of the gamjeo soju was bringing out the dish’s savoriness.

It was embarrassing, but she had no better word for it than delicious.

“It’s good.”

Jae-geon took a sip of the bitter liquor, his mouth pressed to the same glass still marked by her lip print. His eyes stayed on her lips.

“You know better than anyone that I didn’t ask you to taste it just to hear that. If all you can say is that it’s good, I should revoke your chef qualification on the spot.”

Maybe this was the best chance she would ever get to earn an extension on her practicum.

Hae-som pursed her lips as if tasting the flavor still lingering in her mouth, unaware that Jae-geon’s gaze had fixed there.

“The sinseollo and the gamjeo soju go really well together. To me, it feels perfect.”

“There’s no such thing as perfection in food.”

“If you taste it yourself, Chef, you’ll see—”

Hae-som was lost for words when Jae-geon suddenly bowed. His eyes, whose intentions were impossible to read, softened as he smiled.

“I said try a taste. I don’t have any extra.”