I'm waiting in the underground garage of our company, one hand on the handle of my suitcase and the other holding my handbag. It's Friday afternoon and we only had to work half the day today so we could leave the same day for the spa resort.
I had enough time to finish packing my suitcase and Megan helped me with that. Sometimes I get too excited and pack nine pairs of underwear for a three-day trip, but better safe than sorry. Who knows how many pairs of underwear you'll end up needing?
Anyway, I've been waiting here for more than fifteen minutes and Mr. Park is still not in sight. I've heard that the other colleagues have formed into groups and have already left.
I was initially going to go with Lizzie and Josh, but Lizzie already asked Josh and she owns a Smart. And because Megan is not going and the others already have their cars full, I had to note in my email to Mr. Park that I need a ride.
It's not a problem though because I find Mr. Park very charming anyway and he said he has exactly one spot left in his car. I really love that he is always so helpful and nice. I'm actually a little excited because he always manages to make me feel some type of way.
I check the time on my phone and it's now twenty minutes past the time we actually agreed on. I sigh and wonder if maybe Mr. Park forgot that I was going to be riding with him? I mean, it could happen because he's a busy man and who knows how many things he has on his mind at the same time.
I mentally go back over the things I packed to make sure I didn't forget anything important. It's a habit.
Just before I get to the end of my list that I've been scrolling through in my head, I hear the rumble of an engine and the screeching of tires. The underground parking garage is really noisy and it's the first time I've been here because I don't own a car myself.
A big, black car that looks like an SUV approaches me. A smile finds its way to my lips and I am happy that Mr. Park has not forgotten me after all. I take a step closer and the black foiled window on the passenger side rolls down.
"Mr. Jeon?" I ask in confusion as I see him sitting in the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other leaning against his thigh.
"Do you need a ride?" he asks, completely ignoring my confused manner.
"No, thank you." I smile, politely declining his offer. "I'm waiting for Mr. Park. He said I can get a ride with him."
His jaw clenches. "I was already on my way," he says. "He was actually the one who said I should get back and check to see if anyone else was waiting here."
"Oh."
I'm not mad at Mr. Park or disappointed. As I feared, he must have forgotten I asked in my email. And that's fine.
"So, are you getting in or?" Mr. Jeon's voice brings me out of my thoughts.
I stare at him and then at his car, which, by the way, is a different one than the last two times I rode with him. I mean, of course, he owns more than one car because he's a businessman, but still.
And now that I have to think about the last two rides with him again, my hands are getting sweaty. I can't stand the silence and it puts pressure on me because then I usually say things and annoy him with it, but I can't help it.
"I don't know, are you even okay with this?" I ask.
"You don't really have another option, do you?" he shrugs.
I don't know if I can even rate that as an answer to my question. But he's right because I can't walk there and a cab would suck a month's payout of me for a two-hour long drive.
"I mean, yeah," I laugh quizzically. "Thank you so much. Can I put my suitcase in the trunk?"
He nods before pushing a button in his car as I'm already about to walk to the back, pulling my suitcase behind me. I hear a door close and just as I'm about to figure out how the heck to open the trunk, Mr. Jeon appears next to me.
He presses a hidden button and the trunk opens by itself. His suitcase is already there and I'm amazed at how big the trunk actually is. Maybe I should offer to travel here together with the suitcases because I don't know if I can stand two hours in the front next to him.
"I got this." I struggle as I try to pick my suitcase up off the floor, even though Mr. Jeon hasn't even offered to help me. "I do yoga at home."
After battling a little, I finally manage to load the heavy suitcase into his car, careful not to bump it on the corners anywhere. I don't know if I would then have to work for three months to pay for such possible damage.
I wipe the sweat from my brow and smile up at him, while he still stands beside me without movement. I only now realize how big our size difference actually is. He towers almost a head above me.
Mr. Jeon closes the trunk and we both walk around the car, getting in. The engine was still running, so Mr. Jeon changes the gear from P to D with a gear lever located on the steering wheel. A star shines in its center as he again wraps just one hand around the leather and we drive off.
He doesn't have the resort's address stored in his navigation system, and that leads me to believe that he must already know the way and is probably going there frequently. I mean, of course, he is. He's probably at places like that every weekend.
I, on the other hand, wonder what it looks like there because the pictures on the Internet looked very appealing. I wouldn't have expected anything else from Mr. Park anyway, but it kind of makes me feel bad because it looked expensive.
I read on their website that they offer some types of massage and I'm definitely going to visit that. Among other things, they have a 24-hour open kitchen, basketball facility, indoor and outdoor swimming pool.
Mr. Jeon expertly maneuvers the car through the streets and although there is a lot of traffic jam, we make it to the highway within half an hour. As I feared or rather predicted, it is completely silent in the car.
The last few weeks of having to work close to him, I've gotten a closer look at the person he is. He is still just as not talkative as I knew him to be before, but now I know he talks when he needs to or maybe even wants to.
I've seen him talk to Mr. and Mrs. Bonneville and the speech he gave at the event and that showed me he can be nice when not having his mood swings sometimes.
I have never been as close to him as I have been the last few weeks, even though he is my boss. When I was hired, I was interviewed by Mr. Park and otherwise, Lizzie presents our ideas to the CEOs.
It's kind of weird to have seen and gotten to know more of him. Not really gotten to know, because I sometimes feel like there is so much more behind his facade than he likes to let on about himself.
But as always, I push those thoughts away and look out the window. The spa resort is located somewhere outside the city, on a hill with a huge property. Perfect for a weekend getaway from work and relaxing.
I'm glad I chose comfy clothes for the ride, and the softness of the seat makes me sink even more into the comfort of it. I'm not going to fall asleep this time, though, because it was really embarrassing last time.
Mr. Jeon must think of me as a chatterbox and on top of that, a lazy bum. I have to say that the last few weeks that I have been working for him must not have really created positive impressions about me. I'm actually still waiting for a release letter.
Fortunately, the highway is relatively empty, so we're making swift progress. We've already been on the road for an hour and I'm proud of myself for not asking Mr. Jeon to pull over so I can go pee at a gross gas station.
I admire the nature out here and for a moment I forget that I live in the city where every day always passes quickly. My parents live in an area like this and it makes me remember how my childhood went. They live not far from me though, maybe only half an hour.
Autumn is revealing its colors and also the days that are getting shorter and shorter are slowly preparing us for winter. The sun shining directly through the windshield warms my face and I close my eyes for a moment. When I open them again, I see Mr. Jeon has flipped open his sun visor.
It makes me fidgety to hold back a conversation. I remember the drive to Vogue the first time I was stuck in the car with him for almost an hour. I don't want to exaggerate, but it stressed me out.
When he drove me home from the event, it wasn't even that bad. But that's probably because I was dozing off for half the drive.
We pass some flat countryside and I can see a field of flowers in the distance. "So pretty," I say in amazement, my forehead almost pressing against the window on my side.
Flowers in various shades of red and yellow fill my view and I can't fight the smile on my lips. When I glance over at Mr. Jeon to check if he's seeing what I'm seeing, he just glares there for a second and then back at the street.
"Flowers make everything so much more beautiful. Each kind is unique, but I really love tulips." I say randomly, even though I know he doesn't care. "They only bloom for a few days in the spring, though. Did you know that they were once the most expensive flowers and that each color carries its own meaning?"
I stare at the side of his face and he shakes his head. I actually thought he probably wasn't listening to me because I started babbling again, but seems like he has no choice.
The car is silent again and I watch quietly as the flower fields pass us by and then disappear completely. We are now in an area where there are many trees, sometimes open fields with windmills.
There is about half an hour of driving left and I feel like I could burst any second. This is the longest drive I've done with Mr. Jeon and I can't help but think how the others must be having fun in Mr. Park's car.
I appreciate being able to ride with Mr. Jeon, but the lack of conversation or any other kind of noise makes me sigh a few times. I wish I had brought anything to entertain me. Maybe downloaded Sudoku to my phone. Candy Crush or Temple Run.
Anything.
"Oh, so many cows!" I sing as we drive past a giant farm. I turn to Mr. Jeon. "Did you know that cows are ruminants? I mean, you must have known that because it's common knowledge. I read somewhere that they have four digestive compartments in their stomach. And that actually makes me want to be vegan."
"Why aren't you?" I hear him ask. I restrain from giving him an internal round of applause because it's the first thing he's said the entire ride.
"I love ice cream too much for that," I sigh, turning back to the front.
"There's vegan ice cream," he murmurs matter-of-factly.
I nod. "I know. There's an old man two blocks from my apartment who sells homemade ice cream every summer. I love his ice cream, you really have to try that when you get a chance. Anyway, he doesn't have that many customers and now if I didn't consume milk, I wouldn't be able to eat the ice cream."
I remember the smile he always sends me whenever I walk into his store. It's small, but there's enough for three whole tables and it's not like he has a lot of customers because the kids in the neighborhood go to the new store around the corner.
So I usually get an extra scoop, which is also a reason to go there. Whenever I have my period and crave something sweet, I'm there. Sometimes I feel like a kid, but it's ice cream, and who doesn't like ice cream?
"Plus, I like to eat fried eggs. Yeah." I nod again. "So as much as it makes me want to puke, I wouldn't stop. I don't eat meat, though."
"Vegetarian." he clarifies.
"Yes. Oh my god, I always get those two words mixed up." I laugh, leaning my head back against the seat.
I didn't even realize how fast the time went by because I was talking so much as we then pull off the highway and onto a country road. I take in my surroundings and I can already tell it is very idyllic and peaceful.
We drive up a hill and Mr. Jeon is quiet the whole time, so I don't press on and stay quiet. Finally, when we get to the top of the hill, we stop in front of a fence. Mr. Jeon talks through the microphone to a person on the other side and the doors open.
I am amazed as I come into view with the huge facility. It definitely didn't look that big in the pictures, considering that this resort is a family business. The sun is already setting and now the name of the resort seems very logical to me.
Sunset Hill Resort & Spa is written in large letters across the entrance of the building. I open the door after we come to a stop right in front of the building and carefully get out because the car feels like it's ten feet above the ground.
I get ready to take my suitcase out of the trunk, but a young man beats me to it and offers to carry it inside for me. I smile at him and thank him before he takes both of our suitcases and I watch him carry them in and leave them at the front desk.
Mr. Jeon and I walk into the building together and I look around with wide eyes. The interior is simple, yet modern. In the lobby, there are several sofas arranged in a corner that can be used to pass the time while waiting.
Two elevators lead to the higher floors and I try to spot someone I know, but I'm not even sure if the others have arrived yet. I feel Mr. Jeon's eyes on me as he makes his way to the front desk and I sheepishly walk over to him.
"Welcome to our Resort & Spa, Sunset Hill." a nice man, probably in his early forties, greets us. "How can I help you?"
"I have a room booked," Mr. Jeon replies and I wait for my turn to check-in.
"The name on the reservation, sir?" he asks politely as he already starts typing on his computer.
"Jeon."
"Ah, great. The room with a king-sized bed," he mutters to himself, continuing to type on the computer before looking up at us with a smile. "This is just a regular room. Do you want me to get you something else?"
"Why would that be necessary?" Mr. Jeon asks, resting his elbow on the counter.
"For your honeymoon, sir? We have great options."
I choke on my own saliva as my ears catch the words. Honeymoon? Embarrassment climbs up hot in my cheeks and I have the urge to correct the man at the front desk, but I can't open my mouth.
I can't even look at Mr. Jeon because I'm so mortified.
"We're not on a honeymoon," speaks Mr. Jeon, his voice as calm as his posture while I'm dying in panic and embarrassment.
"I'm sorry. A room for a normal vacation with your wife then." The receptionist smiles and I almost choke once again. Can the ground swallow me up?
"She's not my wife." my boss clarifies this time. I only get a small glimpse of the shade of pink on his cheeks.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, sir." The man panics, looking between Mr. Jeon and me. "I—I was thinking, well because, I assumed—"
"It's okay." Mr. Jeon sighs, trying to avoid further awkwardness. "We're here as a company. Mr. Park has booked several rooms, so we need the room that's saved on Jeon and another one for Carlson."
"Okay, just a moment, please." the man mumbles under his breath and I can feel how uncomfortable it is for him as well as for us.
After a few minutes of typing on his computer, he finds both reservations and hands us the key cards for our rooms. The young man from before is already gone with both of our suitcases and I hope that at least he will not make any unpleasant assumptions and put them in the wrong rooms.
Mr. Jeon and I thank the front desk guy and he apologizes again before we head for the elevators. I wish I had a good excuse not to get on the same elevator with him, but it is already too late and we have both entered.
The ride to the third floor is just as slow as the car ride, but even quieter, with the two of us waiting at opposite walls for the doors to open. I avoid eye contact as I then step out and Mr. Jeon follows me.
It turns out our rooms are right next to each other and I curse under my breath for that. But I try not to make a big deal out of it because it's not a big deal. Someone made wrong assumptions, and now what? It can happen to anyone.
Mr. Jeon walks past me and on to his door until he stops in front of it. I slide the card through where it belongs and a little green light flashes while Mr. Jeon does the exact same thing.
We give each other one last look before I smile at him and step into my room for the next three days.
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thank you for reading💜