BTCG 09

Chapter 9…

Because of the time difference, I only managed to fall asleep when the sky was turning bluish at dawn. When I woke up, it was nearly eleven in the morning.
Stepping out of the bedroom, I found the man was already gone.

I opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of cold water, and looked out the window. The sunlight filtering through the forest of skyscrapers added a lively glow to the free-spirited city of New York.

“Maybe I’ll visit a nearby museum today?” I thought as I stretched lazily.

Since I needed breakfast first, I was looking through the menu in the guidebook to order room service when the phone in the room rang.
If it was a call from the front desk, I could just order through them. I picked it up.

“Hello?”

[Good, you haven’t gone out yet.]

“Huh?”

The moment I heard Korean, I froze—then realized it was his voice.
Over the phone, his tone sounded distinctly different from how it did in person.

[I forgot to get your cell number yesterday. I don’t even know my wife’s phone number, so I ended up making the ridiculous move of calling your hotel room. I was worried you might’ve already left, but I’m glad you haven’t.]

“Why are you calling me?”

My curt tone made his voice drop a little lower.

[You don’t seriously expect me to say something like ‘Did you sleep well?’ right? There’s our first official event today. Go out and pick a dress for the party.]

“What? A party?”

[There’s a clause saying you must accompany me to official functions, even if you don’t want to, so don’t make a fuss. I’m sure this isn’t your first party. It’ll be your first official appearance as the hostess of Myeongil Group. Dress elegantly but not too flashy—none of those cheap clothes you usually wear. You should look dignified. If it’s too much to choose on your own, I’ll tell Chief Choi to get a professional to help you. I’ll pick you up at five.]

And just like that, he hung up after saying everything he wanted to say.
I’d been about to ask how I was supposed to handle hair and makeup, but all I could do was glare at the innocent phone before setting it down.

“A party… our first official event? I feel like I’ve suddenly become the First Lady or something.”

Fortunately, with Chief Choi bringing over a so-called professional, preparations for my outfit and makeup went smoothly.
I was born into a background where I’d attended countless parties, even if I hadn’t wanted to, so none of this was exactly unfamiliar.
Still, it was hard to get used to being called madam all of a sudden. No matter how many times people said “madam, madam,” it didn’t feel like they were talking to me, and I often found myself staring blankly before realizing it.

“You look stunning, madam. You carry the dignity befitting the lady of Myeongil Group. Our president certainly has an excellent eye.”

Chief Choi’s words sounded like praise for me, but as always, he managed to end them with a flattering remark toward his boss.

Since it was a relatively casual party, I chose a knee-length black cocktail dress made of glossy material.
The shoulders were bare, and my hair was styled in a half-updo to keep me from looking too mature.

“It’s an honor to be serving you, madam. The president has already spoken about you.”

Chief Choi seemed to be one of the man’s closest aides—someone who handled not only business matters but even his personal affairs.

While we were in the car heading back to the hotel, he handed me a tablet and showed several profile photos.

“I thought it’d be best for you to get familiar with some faces in advance. This is Mr. Shamiel Kuhn, the host of tonight’s party. He’s a prominent investor here in the U.S. He specifically said he wanted to meet you.”

“Me? Why?”

“He decided to invest significantly in our company’s U.S. expansion project—thanks to you, madam. When our president told him that the donation money came from you, not him, Mr. Kuhn said he wanted to meet you personally. That’s why you were invited to the party.”

“Oh…”

“And this here is Korean-American venture capitalist Eddie Jung, and this gentleman is from Saudi Arabia…”

Chief Choi continued introducing the important guests, showing me their photos with short explanations.
But he scrolled so quickly that I didn’t have time to memorize any of the names.
What was that Saudi guy’s name again? Charles… Arcius… Medelius? I’d already forgotten.

At exactly five o’clock, the man arrived to pick me up.
He looked impeccable in a tuxedo, and the way he gestured for me to step into the limousine first carried an effortless air of refinement.

As we sat side by side in the car, I felt his gaze sweep from the top of my head down to my feet.

“Not bad. Did you pick that out yourself?”

“The expert did.”

I kept my eyes fixed on the window as I replied.

“At official events, try to act affectionate, even if you hate it. Avoiding eye contact doesn’t look good. Let’s decide on our forms of address. In public, I’ll call you ‘honey,’ or in Korean, ‘yeobo.’ Since we’re in the U.S., I might switch between the two. How will you address me?”

I hadn’t thought about that, so no answer came to mind immediately.

“I’ll just call you Jaeha.”

“Alright.”

A safe choice. Thank goodness he didn’t insist on honey.

“And try to get used to smiling.”

I adjusted my sullen expression and lifted the corners of my lips slightly.

“Better.”

When we arrived at the venue, he got out first and extended his hand to help me.
Caught off guard for a moment, I quickly composed myself and placed my hand in his, letting him guide me.
He took my hand naturally and rested it against his arm as we entered.

As soon as we walked into the ballroom, countless eyes turned toward us.
Most of the attendees were foreigners, though I spotted a few Koreans as well—some faces I recognized from the photos Chief Choi had shown me.

Everyone greeted the man warmly, many offering congratulations on his marriage. Naturally, their eyes would then shift to me, and I responded with a soft, polite smile.

“Why aren’t you introducing us to your beautiful bride, Jay?”

So his English name was Jay. Everyone called him that.
He’d graduated high school and college in the U.S., so it made sense. His English was smooth and natural.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Yoon. Now I see why Mr. Yoon never dated before—he must’ve been waiting for a woman this beautiful.”

“You flatter me.”

“Oh! So this stunning lady is the wife of the brilliant Mr. Yoon!”

A cheerful, round-faced Black man approached with a big smile—the same Mr. Shamiel Kuhn that Chief Choi had shown me earlier.

“Hello, Mr. Kuhn. Thank you so much for inviting us.”

He looked surprised.

“You know my name, Mrs. Yoon?”

“You’re known for your incredible humanitarian work for African refugees—how could I not know you? It’s an honor to meet you.”

Mr. Kuhn took my hand and kissed the back of it.

“The honor’s mine. To think I’d meet an angel who belongs in heaven, right here on earth.”

A volley of flowery compliments followed as I exchanged greetings and light conversation with several key figures.
Then the man returned, holding two champagne glasses, and handed one to me.

“Honey, shall we toast?”

The sudden word honey caught me off guard, and my eyes darted nervously as I took the glass.
The people around us, clearly acquaintances of his, watched with amused curiosity.

“Jay, I can’t believe my eyes. Seeing you with a woman? I thought you’d be a lifelong bachelor.”

“I never imagined I’d fall this hard for someone either. Life’s unpredictable, isn’t it, honey?”

His arm suddenly wrapped around my waist, startling me so much that I almost spilled my drink.
I turned to him with wide eyes, feeling every muscle in my body stiffen.

With a smooth smile, he leaned closer—too close.

Wait—what is he doing?

His lips brushed my cheek, and in a low whisper near my ear, he murmured,

“Relax. We have to look affectionate.”

He kept his arm casually around my waist as he continued chatting with the people in front of us.
Between conversations, he’d take small sips of champagne—and even went so far as to press a light kiss to the top of my head for effect.

Wow. At this point, he deserves an acting award. He could easily be an actor.

I marveled inwardly at his performance, though a faint discomfort lingered beneath my admiration.

The party grew livelier, and while chatting with strangers, I suddenly heard a familiar voice speaking in Korean.

“Hey, newlywed Jaeha! Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding—oh? Han Yesol?”

Huh? My name?

I turned toward the voice and saw a man standing there.
From the way he addressed Jaeha so casually, they seemed to know each other well.

But the instant he called my name, I froze.

He looked familiar. At first, I didn’t recognize him because he was now in a tuxedo, a far cry from the jeans and casual look he’d worn in the park.
Yet as soon as I heard him say my name, I realized—

It was him. The man I met at the park.

Wait… they know each other? What on earth is going on here?

I glanced up at Jaeha beside me, giving him a questioning look.