Han.

Ch 26

It is late afternoon, and I sit nervous and fidgeting in the lobby waiting for Mr. S. Choi of Seoul Independent Publishing. This is my second interview today, the one I'm most nervous about. My first interview went well, but it was for a larger conglomerate with offices based throughout the region, and I would be one of many editorial assistants there. I can imagine being swallowed up and spat out pretty quickly in such a corporate machine. SIP is where I want to be. It's small and unconventional, championing local authors, and has an interesting and quirky roster of clients.

My surroundings are sparse, but I think it's a design statement rather than frugality. I am seated on one of two dark blue couches made of leather. I stroke the leather appreciatively and wonder idly. My mind wanders, I flush at my wayward and inappropriate thoughts. The receptionist is a young woman with large silver earrings and long straight hair. She has a look about her that the sort of woman I could be friendly with has. The thought is comforting. Every few moments she glances up at me away from her computer, and smiles reassuringly. I return the smile.

My flight is booked, my mother is in seventh heaven that I am visiting. I am packed, and Hy has agreed to drive me to the airport. Jumin has ordered me to take my new phone and computer. I roll my eyes at the memory of his overbearing bossiness, but realize now that's just the way he is. He likes control over everything, including me. Yet he's so unpredictably and disarmingly agreeable, too. He can be tender, good-humored, even sweet. And when he is, it's so left field and unexpected. He insisted on accompanying me all the way down to my car in the garage. Jeez. I'm only going for a few days; he's acting like I'm going for weeks. He always keeps me off balance.

"Zoe Niven?" A woman with long, black hair standing by the reception desk distracts me from my introspection. She has the same vibe as the receptionist. She could be in her late thirties, maybe in her forties. It's so difficult to tell with older women.

She gave me a polite smile, her eyes assessing me. I am wearing one of Hy's dresses, a black pinafore over a white blouse, and my black heels. Very interview, I think. My hair is restrained in a tight bun, and for once the tendrils are behaving themselves. She holds her hand out to me.

"Hello, Zoe, my name is Ri Bora. I am head of human resources here at SIP.:

"It's a pleasure to meet you." I shake her hand. She looks very casual to be head of HR.

"Please follow me."

We go through the double doors behind the reception area into a large brightly decorated open-plan office, and from there head into a small meeting room. The walls are pale green, lined with pictures of book covers. At the head of the maple conference table sits a young man with red hair that seemed to be bleached but it was kind of gray. He looked mildly familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who he looked like. He wears a pale blue shirt, no tie, and stone chinos. As I approach him, he stands and gazes at me with fathomless blue eyes.

"Zoe Niven, I'm Saeran Choi, the acquisition editor here at SIP, and I am very pleased to meet you."

We shake hands, and his dark expression is unreadable, though friendly enough, I think.

"Have you traveled far?" he asks pleasantly.

"No, I recently moved to the area."

"Oh, that's good to hear. Please, have a seat."

"So why would you like to intern with us at SIP, Zoe," he asks.

He says my name softly and cocks his head to one side, like someone I know, it's unnerving. Doing my best to ignore the irrational wariness he inspires, I launch into my carefully prepared speech, conscious that a rosy flush is spreading across my cheeks. I look at both of them, remembering Hy's Successful Interviewing Technique lecture: Maintain eye contact, Zoe! Ri and Saeran both listen attentively.