As Jae-geon had expected, the meal between Chef Jean and Ji-won ended without much fuss. Jae-geon, completely withdrawing the occasional glances he’d cast their way, turned to Hae-som.

Her movements were smooth, with no wasted motions, as she had become quite skilled at her work. Her meticulous preparation sometimes surprised even Han Seung-jun.

She’s admirable, impressive, and so lovely. But you, who won’t even glance my way, say you like me.

He thought he had chuckled lightly, but the man reflected in the glass partition was beaming.

Jun-won, glancing at his vacant expression, chided him as if to say, “Is this the time for that?”

“The chef is finished with his meal. Come out and greet him.”

He pursed his suddenly grinning lips and adjusted his attire once more.

As he entered alone, gazes rained down on him. Among them was Hae-som, peeking her head out from the chef’s table.

It’s jealousy, alright.

Suppressing the laughter threatening to escape, Jae-geon stopped in front of Chef Jean. He sensed Ji-won’s slippery gaze, but it didn’t matter.

“Did you enjoy your meal, Chef?”

Jang, who had been pulling the napkin on his lap to wipe his mouth, suddenly frowned.

“You’re really too much.”

“…….”

“This is the first time I’ve eaten such an arrogant dish in my life.”

He wasn’t trying to reprimand him. His tone was simply dry.

“The course composition, achieving a perfect balance, is really flawless. However…”

“…….”

“To have such no-flaws in taste… I can only see it as your obsession. Sometimes, you need moments to breathe.”

This was feedback with a long history. From his days as a novice at Le Cordon Bleu, through his time as a demi chef at Lefebvre, to seeing off the head chef at Argent, Jang had pointed out the same thing.

Being too perfect is also a flaw. An empty taste can sometimes become a unique delicacy.

It was a difference in opinion stemming from their differing ideals. Chef Jean pursued contemporary French fine dining, while Jae-geon pursued classic Korean fine dining.

Furthermore, Not, which had maintained its Michelin stars since opening, had already proven its capabilities.

Jae-geon met Chef Jean’s gaze with a smile that was far from accommodating.

“I will take your words to heart.”

Chef Jang, knowing his disciple’s stubbornness, backed off. The comfortable silence was broken by Ji-won.

“You two haven’t seen each other in a while, so you must have much to catch up on? You must be tired from the long flight, Chef. Shall we have a light drink at the hotel you’re staying at?”

“Cha Ji-won.”

“You should welcome the chef properly. Why are you acting so backward?”

Two pairs of eyes clashed. Ji-won, not bothered, placed two cards on the table.

“I thought it would be more convenient for both of you to stay at the same hotel, so I booked two rooms.”

With a sly smile, Ji-won slid the card key, bearing a familiar number, towards Jae-geon’s waist.

“If you’re tired, stay the night.”

---

Beyond the partition, whether the man and woman were filming a melodrama or not, the kitchen bustled as usual.

However, due to Jae-geon’s absence, the workflow began to get slightly tangled. For example, the main course meant for table 7 went to table 8, or an appetizer was served to a table that should have received dessert.

The food was served, but the mistake occurred because no separate notation was made on the bill. Because of this, Hae-som, who had the most to do but no specific task, had to check each bill one by one.

“Table 1 is out with the main course, table 2 with dessert. Table 3 is…”

Her progress, tracking each one visually, stopped. It was at table 10, where Chef Jean, Ji-won, and Jae-geon were.

The atmosphere was surprisingly friendly. Pretending not to hear the fluent French, Hae-som strained to listen to the occasional Korean words.

“Cha Ji-won.”

“You should welcome the chef properly. Why are you being so unsophisticated?”

“…….”

“If you’re tired, stay the night.”

The moment she saw the small, square card that had been slid across the table, Hae-som’s pupils narrowed like pins. Her heart skipped a beat, pounding out of rhythm, and her tangled breaths came in short gasps. She was in a panic.

She didn’t know with what state of mind she checked the remaining tables. Staggering back to her station, Hae-som took out all the bills tightly packed in the holder and crossed out the dishes that had been served.

Her pen, which had been moving fast, stopped when she heard a voice nearby.

“Is Song Hae-som checking the passes for me?”

I’m going through this humiliation because of who!

Her grip tightened on the pen. However, an intern couldn’t possibly argue with the head chef.

“The workflow kept getting mixed up, so I was checking. I’ll finish this and return to my station.”

Jae-geon, giving a slight nod as if to say, “Is that so,” made eye contact with Chef Jean and Ji-won as they left Not. His eyes, curved in a gentle arc, were beautiful again.

Was that the same face he showed Ji-won?

Her stomach churned, and words just came out.

“Chef, are you leaving?”

It was a question completely out of context. He seemed to think so too, furrowing the front of his well-shaped eyebrows.

“Where?”

His tone, very businesslike and dry, felt like it was tearing her heart to shreds. It was hollow, and bitter.

Feeling like she had brought up something unnecessary, Hae-som bit her lip until it almost bled.

Jae-geon, watching Hae-som, casually asked.

“What do you want me to do, Song Hae-som?”

It was a question that seemed to probe her very heart. Hae-som took a breath and returned the question.

“If I tell you not to go, will you not go?”

“Uh-huh.”

While it was true she was concerned about Ji-won, it was also an occasion to honor his mentor. Moreover, what right did she, Song Hae-som, have… to insert herself between adults?

With a bitter self-reflection, she tried to withdraw, but her sleeve was caught. He held her sleeve with just his index and middle fingers, but the strength was immense.

Perhaps… perhaps she had secretly wanted him to hold her back. That’s why she was letting him hold her.

Had she really started to like Jae-geon? Could she forget Eun-ho so easily, so quickly?

Her heart fluttered, and she found it hard to go on like this.

Hae-som gently pulled her hand away from Jae-geon’s grasp and looked up, her gaze now more complex.

“There’s a suitcase in the car trunk. I have to go give it to him.”

Jae-geon, reading the turmoil in her wavering eyes, said casually.

“Let’s go together. Go and check.”

Until the closing time, Hae-som was bound by Jae-geon’s words.

‘Let’s go together. Go and check.’

It was unlikely that Ji-won would look down on a new social butterfly who didn’t know when to quit, and besides, Hae-som couldn’t speak French or English well, so talking with Chef Jang would be tough.

Moreover, the word to introduce herself to Chef Jean was ambiguous. An intern that Chef Jeong Jae-geon had forced into the kitchen? The impudent little girl who slept with him?

No, this was definitely not right.

Why would she follow him there, of all places?

Hae-som closed the metal locker door, sealing away her feelings of unknown intent.

Jae-geon, who had been waiting, blocked her path as she left the locker room, a backpack slung over one shoulder. Hae-som pushed his solid shoulder.

“Someone will see.”

“Does anyone here not know about us? Why are you being so formal now?”

What is ‘us’? Biting her lip, wanting to ask that, Hae-som shook her head.

“I’m tired. Please move.”

“I’ll get you a room.”

Her words finally came out harsh.

“Why would I go there?”

“I promised I’d introduce you. You might not feel it yet, but expanding your network in this field is very important.”

“We both know this is an uncomfortable situation.”

“Why. Because of Cha Ji-won?”

Jae-geon looked at Hae-som, who showed no particular reaction, and took the backpack hanging from her shoulder. Her body felt lighter, but the weight pressing on her chest remained.

“Ah…”

My phone and wallet are in the bag.

The man, who had already blocked her way home, was already getting into the car. There was no choice but to walk towards it.

Really, out of necessity.

A strong fragrance wafted to her nose. It was a woman’s perfume, and a familiar one.

Jae-geon, noticing her sniffling, operated the button to roll down the window all the way. The rushing wind took away some of Ji-won’s traces, but in Hae-som’s heart, she was still swirling.

Jae-geon’s voice, explaining Chef Jean’s career, brushed past her on the wind.

“He worked as a three-Michelin-star chef at Argent in New York, USA, and is currently the owner-chef of a two-Michelin-star restaurant, Lefebvre, in Paris, France. He came to Korea at the invitation of Savorin. It’s a ten-day schedule.”

Hae-som, already knowing this, let his words flow past without much response.

“While attending Le Cordon Bleu, he joined as a commis chef at Lefebvre, where he met Cha Ji-won, who was working as a waiter. Around the time I became a demi chef, Han Seung-jun and Park Hwi joined. When I went to New York as head chef at Argent, I met Yoo Jae-min. That’s about the connections.”

There was no real point to it.

Hae-som, resting her arm on the window frame, suddenly glanced at the navigation. How often had he visited hotels that the navigation didn’t even need to be set?

She wasn’t curious about their past, a past she couldn’t possibly be a part of. Since she had to make a good impression on Chef Jean, she needed a suitable topic for small talk instead.

She wondered if they could even communicate.

“What is ‘Your eyes are as beautiful as the sea’ in French?”

His fingers on the steering wheel twitched. Turning the car towards the hotel entrance, Jae-geon replied.

“What do you need to know that for?”

“You said I should greet him well, didn’t you?”

“I told you to greet him, not to flirt.”

It’s not even flirting. Isn’t that better than someone who sleeps with his ex-girlfriend’s magazine next to his nightstand?

Jae-geon, noticing her pouting lips, opened his mouth as if conceding defeat.

“Tu te souviens, ma belle, comme la mer.”

It wasn’t a difficult arrangement to memorize, but Hae-som pretended not to understand, wanting to hear his soft voice one more time.

“Tu te souviens… what did you say?”

“Comme la mer.”

Perhaps the syllables were too oily for a native Korean tongue, but the syllables kept bouncing off. The practice continued until the car entered the lobby.

After handing the keys to the valet, Jae-geon opened the passenger door, which swung wide. Seeing Hae-som mumbling, he touched his forehead in exasperation.

“The old man’s mouth will split open.”