“Wow, look at that sky.”
At Jae-min’s exclamation, Hae-som looked up from wiping down the earthenware jars. The sky, clear as a computer desktop wallpaper just moments ago, had turned dark with storm clouds.
The two of them had come out to reinforce the jangdok before the monsoon rains could ruin the restaurant’s precious fermented pastes. Hae-som was in charge of the gochujang jars, while Jae-min handled the doenjang.
The warm, sticky humidity clinging to her skin promised rain before long. They had to hurry.
She lifted the heavy earthenware lid, as weighty as a cast-iron cauldron, sprinkled a layer of coarse salt over the surface to keep moisture out, then covered it with mesh before sealing it with a glass lid. They used glass lids so the paste could still receive sunlight even during the rainy season.
They were about halfway through when Jae-min, spreading the salt with the practiced rhythm of someone who’d done it countless times, let out a dramatic sigh.
“They’re saying the rainy season starts today. How am I supposed to get home? I didn’t even bring an umbrella.”
“I thought it started tomorrow?”
“The weather’s got a mind of its own. I checked again earlier—they’re saying tonight now. Ugh, I hate getting caught in the rain.”
He gave an exaggerated shiver before flashing her a teasing grin.
“You got an umbrella? Want to share one?”
“I like walking in the rain.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I do.”
His flirting had become almost habitual now, random enough to have no context or meaning. Maybe she’d built up an immunity to it. Hae-som only brushed the salt from her hands and answered without a second thought.
That was when she spotted Jae-geon crossing the courtyard.
No greeting. Not even a glance.
He walked past as though she wasn’t there, his steady footsteps carrying him farther away.
Watching his retreating back stirred up memories of the weekend, drifting through her mind like sand caught in the wind.
Would you… sleep beside me once in a while?
The words still sounded completely insane when she thought about them again, but she’d been so desperate for sleep that her pride had long since given up.
They’d already shared a bed twice.
What difference would a third time make?
Nothing compares to the orgasm of finally getting some sleep.
Just as he’d said, every time that strange arrangement played out, the rush of relief that washed through her body really did feel intoxicating.
Whether from nerves or anticipation, she’d barely slept at night and had even sacrificed her daytime naps. Her eyes were red from exhaustion.
It didn’t matter.
She only had to survive today.
Then another blissful night’s sleep would be waiting for her.
By the time she finished sealing the last of the jars, buoyed by that thought, the first raindrops had begun to speckle her shoulders.
She hurried across the courtyard toward the restaurant, only for someone to grab the back of her collar.
“Got a minute?”
It was Jun-won.
Jun-won’s office sat right next to Jae-geon’s.
Unlike Jae-geon’s immaculate office, where even a single pen seemed perfectly aligned, Jun-won’s carried a lived-in sort of clutter.
A standing whiteboard covered with Not‘s overall schedule had been shoved to one side, while a notebook lay open with notes on the day’s reservations—the guests’ allergies, preferred seating, and whether they were celebrating anything special.
Hae-som’s eyes lingered on the framed Michelin Star certificate hanging where a nameplate might have been before she took the seat Jun-won offered.
He hadn’t brought her all the way here just for coffee.
So why?
The way he firmly shut the door behind them made it clear this wasn’t a casual chat.
Hae-som laced and unlaced her fingers.
She’d secretly used the kitchen to practice.
She still wasn’t much help to the team.
Her relationship with Jae-geon had become… far more complicated than it should have.
Any one of those could be the reason she’d been called in.
Yet Jun-won simply smiled.
“How’s work been?”
So this was an evaluation.
It struck her as odd that it was Jun-won doing it instead of her direct supervisor, Jae-geon, but this wasn’t the time to question it.
She fidgeted with the buttons on her chef’s jacket before answering.
“I’m doing my best.”
“I’ve heard. First one in every morning, last one out every night. Even the delivery drivers can’t stop praising you.”
“Thank you for thinking so highly of me.”
Jun-won placed two black chef’s jackets, two aprons, and two copies of a contract on the desk.
“The chef wants to extend your internship until graduation. Since there were a few things I had to process on my end, it landed on my desk.”
“…Oh.”
The timing couldn’t have been stranger.
It almost felt like payment for the deal they’d made through sleep.
She’d secretly hoped her internship would be extended, but the offer still left a bitter taste in her mouth.
The neatly pressed black chef’s jacket looked out of place on her.
As though it had stained the white uniform she’d always worn.
This isn’t a uniform you’ve earned.
Your skills didn’t win you this.
The black fabric seemed to whisper it over and over.
Seeing the conflicted look on her face, Jun-won added,
“We’re planning to hire full-time next spring. Hang in there until then, and you’ll probably move straight into a permanent position.”
“…Yes.”
“If those overseas-trained guys start giving you a hard time, come tell me.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh? Then what’s with that face? It’s obvious.”
It wasn’t that they hadn’t influenced things…
But she couldn’t deny that the chefs who had studied abroad possessed broader experience and stronger credentials.
There had been a time she’d dreamed of studying overseas herself.
Her parents already disapproved of her becoming a chef. There was no chance they’d ever agree to send her abroad.
Knowing their financial situation, she’d never pushed the issue.
If she became a full-time employee, the salary would be much better.
A year or two of saving would probably cover the settlement costs for studying overseas.
But she still couldn’t understand why Jae-geon had given her this opportunity.
It kept bothering her.
Jun-won smiled.
“That’s not exactly the face of someone who’s happy.”
“I’m… still trying to process it.”
“Jung Jae-geon’s not an easy person to deal with, is he?”
Jae-geon wasn’t the type to go around talking about his personal affairs, but Jun-won seemed to have pieced everything together anyway.
“He’ll give people his time. His effort. But giving away his heart…” Jun-won shook his head. “He’s never been good at that. Funny enough, that’s exactly what women seem to fall for.”
She took it as a warning.
Relationships like this had happened before.
Don’t get too attached to Jae-geon.
She never intended to, so she only smiled awkwardly.
Jun-won gathered the stack of resumes scattered across the desk with a few quick taps.
“Jung Jae-geon’s making staff meal today. You should stay and eat something the chef cooked.”
He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall shared with Jae-geon’s office before standing.
“I’ve got interviews lined up all day, so I’d better get going too.”
Hae-som ran her fingers over the Not logo embroidered on the left side of her chest.
The black chef’s jacket fit as though it had been tailored just for her.
Even her own name stitched above the pocket felt unfamiliar.
There had been a time when simply earning an internship at Not had filled her with joy.
Now that she’d been promoted to a full-time candidate, the accomplishment felt hollow.
Because she knew better than anyone else that she hadn’t earned it through her own ability.
An intern’s routine was simple enough.
Arrive before everyone else.
Sort the day’s deliveries.
Run errands for the chefs while desperately trying to learn by watching.
Jae-geon had started letting her assist with the special dishes, and for a while she’d almost felt like a real chef.
But she knew those were only support duties.
Nowhere near enough to prove herself.
What did the chef even see in me…?
Things were already awkward enough after the rumors linking her to Jae-geon.
If word spread that she was being considered for a permanent position…
She could already feel the stares burning into the back of her head.
After hesitating for a long moment, Hae-som unbuttoned the stiff black jacket she’d struggled to put on and changed back into the white school-issued chef’s jacket.
I went out of my way to get that for you, and you’re just going to ignore it?
She could already picture the displeased look Jae-geon would give her.
Even so, she needed to know.
Why had he offered her this opportunity?
If he’d really done it out of concern for her…
Then she’d reject everything.
The internship extension.
The chance at a permanent position.
She straightened her shoulders with newfound resolve, then turned toward a familiar voice echoing down the corridor.
The appetizer station, where staff meal was usually served, was already empty.
Since the chef himself had cooked today, everyone must have descended on it the moment it was ready.
Even if she’d been hungry, there wouldn’t be a single bite left for her.
Would it really have been so hard to save even one serving?
Or one mouthful?
She’d thought she’d grown used to being treated like a disposable extra.
Someone whose absence would barely be noticed.
But today was different.
The lump in her throat burned.
She forced herself onward, passing the appetizer station, then the entrée section, then the main kitchen before stopping outside the dessert station.
“…”
Jae-geon was there.
With Woon-seop.
Calmly tasting the new menu together.
Of course.
Whatever Hae-som thought or felt had always come last.
The familiar disregard erased the last of her doubts.
The ugly suspicion she’d been trying to ignore hardened into certainty.
She resented him.
Resented that he could treat her desperate need for sleep so lightly—
The very desperation that had driven her to surrender something far more intimate in return.
Heat flooded her chest.
The innocence in her doe-like eyes gave way to sparks.
Thin as a poker but standing firm with sudden resolve, she shoved past Woon-seop and strode straight toward Jae-geon.