Right of First Refusal

Chapter 2 - Jumin

"And where would the fun be in that?" she says as she walks out the door and I just keep staring. Like an idiot.

It wasn't sure how she hadn't noticed. I had been subtly watching her for the last couple of hours, as she worked and then as whomever was on the other line of the phone said something that made her face drain. It was a moment, but my breath hitched, what could someone possibly say to have that effect on her? Her pained expression was almost too much to bear for a couple of minutes. It had taken most of my practiced self-discipline not to stand up and ask if she was ok, until she snorted, quite an unattractive snort actually, and as if by magic something in my chest loosened a little bit.

I sight, thinking at least I should be honest with myself – against my better judgement – I had been watching her for weeks. At first, it was nothing - it was her long silvery blond hair. It was not unusual to see something like that back in Seoul, but hers seemed natural and it had this way of catching the light when she moved. I'd come back to Angelique a couple of times – the coffee and the croissants were indeed quite good, almost like those of Paris - and every time she had been here. I kept on telling myself that I came for the coffee, but I somehow always returned captivated by the girl with the ice blond hair. It became a habit, the morning coffee and an occasional glass of wine in the evening.

It hadn't been long since I noticed her and had decided to make Angelique my coffee purveyor of choice, when it suddenly struck me – not the long, silvery locks or hair - but a lightning bolt of awareness of the woman herself and a sudden realization of her enormous drive and tenacity. I wasn't sure when I first noticed it, which was surprising in itself, I was usually quite meticulous with what I observed. I supposed I may have been caught up looking at her lovely hair, as it had taken a while to actually notice what she had been doing while the silver strands danced in the light, but once I saw, it was impossible to look away. It was extraordinary. She would take a sip of her coffee, a latte I noticed, and become engrossed in her work. I was mesmerized. She would quickly and efficiently produce deck after deck and with a practiced hand spent hours working on her excel models. She would come in and stay for various hours – she would arrive early in the evening, late at night, and frequently on the weekends and drove into her work for hours with a single mindedness that was incredible. It was hard to imagine even Director Kang living up to this standard.

She also seemed to be uninterested in the world around her. It was either that, or she simply was too engrossed in her own work to even notice all the stares which frequently followed her. I had assumed her uninterested, but she had seemed genuinely surprised when one of her admirers, a few of the regular gentlemen at Angelique who watched her like puppies, had gathered the courage to ask her out. She had ruthlessly put an end to that line of thought after she not-so-gently dismissed him – if I knew him any better I may have pitied him. Indeed, I must not have been the only one observing as I noticed some of the regular crowd did thin after that. Once again, the Ice Queen, for that's what I had had decided to call her in my mind, had managed to surprise me. I had been so mesmerized with the hair, perhaps it's resemblance to Elizabeth the 3rd, and her extraordinary work ethic, that I had failed to notice how attractive, if tiny, she was.

It frightened me that I recognized that now. It wasn't that I couldn't objectively look at something and recognize it was beautiful, indeed the Met and the Guggenheim had proved quite adept at providing beautiful things to look at. It was that somehow the impression of her, my Ice Queen, stayed with me. It wasn't enough to look at her once.

I sighed. I had been trying. I had taken up therapy again - I had promised V, and after everything with Rika it was the least I could do to keep that promise. I didn't regret what I had done, and I would do it over and over again for V, for my friends, if that's what it required. Even if the under the table dealings with the prime minister had been utterly distasteful, it had accomplished my goal. V was safe, Seeyoug, Saeran and MC were safe, it was all I could do. But it had been too much, seeing what Rika had become, what she had done, what she had forced all of them to do. And everything else, I shuddered as I thought, well, it just seemed like there was too much and not enough in Seoul, like nothing and everything had changed. I was angry and restless for no reason, and I often found myself thinking that not even Elizabeth could make sense of this. The reality was just inescapable. When my therapist suggested a vacation, or traveling abroad, it suddenly made sense.