Jumin's POV

"A w-wife?" Assistant Kang's voice cracks, a failing I'm not used to from her.

"Yes," I reiterate. "Obviously you will not be making the final selection, but I would like for you to get together a dozen or so women for an interview with me. Tomorrow morning."

"Sir," her tenor is stable and firm once more, "are you absolutely sure about this?"

I stare out of the office window, and in the distance I can see the building I call home rising above the rest. I stare at that top floor, knowing that my condo is not empty. That Elizabeth the 3rd is not alone. That there will be someone waiting for me to arrive to have dinner together. That for now… Zen is mine. But this slice of heaven will not last much longer.

"Yes." My voice is clipped as tension grips my chest. "For the interview, set it up at a hotel. I want each woman to greet me as I enter. Instruct them to do so as if we are already wed and I am returning home from work."

Assistant Kang takes notes dutifully, but I can't help but feel as if her stoic expression is hiding something.

"Anything else, sir?"

"Make sure these women are aware that they will be signing a prenup, and covering all of their own expenses beyond housing, utilities, and the like. I'm not looking for someone after me for my money."

Assistant Kang's pen falters for a moment. "Of course, sir."

Resolute in my decision, I give a strong nod. "Good. Then we should move on to the matters of today. Do you have the report on the overseas marketing campaign results?"

"Yes, Mr. Han. It is already in your inbox. We also have a meeting with the French marketing director at noon. The meeting with the President of Nippon Advertisements was rescheduled for tomorrow at 8am."

"Tomorrow?" I ask harshly. "That was an important meeting. Why was it rescheduled?"

Assistant Kang's lips tighten before she responds. "It was scheduled for 8am today. I gave him your sincerest apology."

Ah. I falter. I am not used to having the fault fall on myself. I close my eyes and shake my head to the side. It was just because it was unexpected. I will set an alarm for tomorrow. I have not had to set an alarm since high school, but it is no great effort to set one again.

"Very well. I will be in my office."

She bows as I turn to go.

My stride is longer than usual as I move quickly to my office. My misstep this morning will be compensated for by extra hard work for the rest of the day. I will not allow the bliss of last night to cause any further failures. I might have slept in and missed my morning responsibilities, but I am also so well rested that I feel as if I can conquer twice my usual workload.

And I do. No, close to triple. I have all departments working vigorously as I delve into the details of every division's logbook. I find new ways to reinvest every profit. I leave no loss unturned.

As the time rounds past 5pm, I question keeping everyone here for overtime so we can keep plugging ahead at this ferocious rate of productivity. But I think of my promise to Zen. I truly don't want to miss our dinner date. I twist in my desk chair curiously, thumb rubbing absentmindedly across my lips.

When I have a wife, will it feel like this? Will I be so eager to go home, even when work would seem an obvious priority? I always thought that life was better focused solely on work, that relationships only drag you down with drama. But to think that I could have both - a life of companionship and success… where the joy of intimacy goes so far as to improve my performance? I have never had so much hope for a blissful future.

I close my eyes and smile. I hope that Zen will let me hold him again in bed tonight.

Zen's POV

I purse my lips as I look at the clock. 5:32pm. Jumin said he'd be home by 6, but I'm still not ready for him to get here. I spent the entire day being mad at him for his comment in the chatroom. Seven keeps messaging me weird things about being a secret agent space invader and not to 'probe' Jumin, even if he wants it. I roll my eyes just thinking about it.

As if my thoughts summoned the red-headed demon, my R.F.A. private message ping chimes on my phone.

"Dammit, Seven!" I yell, pulling my phone out and angrily opening up the app. "I swear… if you mention probing Jumin one more time…"

But the message is from Jaehee.

Hello, Zen. So you are not alarmed, there will be a knock at the door shortly. That is the chef who will be cooking dinner tonight for you and Mr. Han.

Mr. Han is just finishing up now, and would like me to let you know he will be home by 6, as promised.

I purse my lips and reread the message. Home by 6, as promised. It would be easier on me if he'd break his promise, I think with a grumble, wanting to stay mad at him.

I walk over to the fridge and take out one of the beers that Jumin's maid Seoyun got for me today. "Tonight requires alcohol," I say under my breath as I pull back the tab.

I take a long draw and sigh. Shit. I could really use a cigarette, too, but I didn't think Jumin would appreciate his place smelling like cigarette smoke, so I didn't even ask for any. I could have gone out on the balcony or something. I scratch my chest, pissed at myself for wanting one. Ugh. I need to get out of here.

A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. Beer in hand, I walk over and swing it open. The man on the other side is already bowing.

"Mr. Zen, sir. My name is Baek Jong-won. I'll be cooking for you and Mr. Han tonight."

The name already sounds familiar, but then when he stands from his bow and looks at me with a smile, I recognize him.

"Ah! Baek Jong-won! You're Baek Jong-won!"

"Sir," he continues to smile at me. "May I come in and begin cooking?"

"Y-yeah, of course!" I move out of the doorway so the chef can come in. Following him like a puppy, I practically trip over my own feet as we move into Jumin's kitchen. "You… you're cooking for us tonight?" As soon as I ask the question, I know it's stupid. Obviously he's here to cook. He said he was. But- but how is it possible that I am going to be getting a meal from one of Korea's most famous and popular TV chefs?!

"Yes, sir." He smiles at me again and begins to pull out a cutting board and a few different kinds of knives. "What are you in the mood for? Mr. Han usually has a variety of things in stock, so please name any dish, and I will try to accommodate as closely as I can."

"Oh, no, I couldn't tell you what to cook. I'll be grateful for anything you make."

The chef's smile widens a bit more. "That's very kind, sir, but Mr. Han insisted that you choose something you'd like for dinner this evening."

I grimace as I stare at the floor, searching for some fancy dish I can ask for. I don't want to embarrass myself and ask for something simple like kimchi or gimbap. But I don't know the names of any high-class cuisine.

"I'm sorry Chef Baek, I don't know what to ask for. Maybe just… something that goes well with beer?" I smile sheepishly as I hold up my half-drank can.

"Hmm… perhaps some Korean fried chicken, seasoned with makgeolli and ginger, and some japchae to go with it? It is a little simpler than Mr. Han usually prefers, but I can certainly add extra vegetables and seasoning to the japchae to match his usual preferences." Before Chef Baek even finishes speaking, he is already moving through the kitchen and checking for ingredients in the fridge.

Korean fried chicken? My shoulders slump. Crap. I should have asked for something better! I have a master chef here ready to cook for me in this one in a lifetime experience, and I'm going to get what I can order from the market down the street?

No, it's fine, Zen. You don't want to become accustomed to this rich lifestyle anyway. Hell, you're getting spoiled by the shower alone.

I bow, thanking the chef, and take a seat on the bar stool where I can lean against the counter and watch him work his magic.

Enraptured by his movements, time flies by quickly. My stomach has already been growling as the mouthwatering smells fill the condo, and when he begins to plate the food, I jump up, ready to dig in immediately- Jumin be damned.

But just then, the door clicks open. I barely tare my eyes away from the food long enough to take in Jumin's form. But seeing him standing there, his posture unusually loose and relaxed, I do a double take.

Immediately unbuttoning his cufflinks and removing his suit jacket, I can't help but watch how gracefully he moves. I never would have suspected the athletic muscles that are normally hidden beneath his formal attire. But now, knowing the strength of his arms… remembering how it felt this morning pinned in his embrace…

Jumin folds his jacket over the back of the chair and then looks up. As soon as his eyes make contact with mine, a closed-mouth smile spreads beautifully across his face, reaching his eyes in a way that makes my anger dissolve into a tingly warmth.

"Welcome home, Mr. Han," Chef Baek says, breaking the silence. "You have excellent timing, sir. I just finished plating dinner."

Jumin holds my gaze, a look of disappointment crossing his face. Then, with a blink and shake of his head, he turns to Chef Baek. "Thank you, Chef. That will be all."

My eyes widen as Chef bows, then immediately turns to leave. I'm still blinking in surprise when, mere seconds later, he's gone. Did Jumin just dismiss Chef Baek Jong-won as if he's NOT a national treasure?!

"Meow." Elizabeth trots up to Jumin. She looks up at him adoringly as he bends down to pet her.

"Jumin," I snap, about to go off on him for how he treated Chef Baek.

"Ah, so you will finally greet me?" he says, before I can continue with anything else. "The chef and the cat greeted me before you today." There is a slight pout to his lower lip.

My face scrunches up in confusion. Is Jumin… upset? That I didn't welcome him home? Seriously? Well, two can play that game.

"Well, excuse me if I didn't want to greet the man who caused me so much suffering all damn day!"

This time, it's Jumin's turn to look confused. But to my chagrin, his expression also looks pained. "I caused you to suffer today?"

My resolve falters at his pitiful demeanor, but I continue to press on. "What did you think would happen when you told everyone in the chatroom that we slept together?!" My voice cracks as I say the last words.

But despite my clear distress, Jumin seems immediately relieved, and waves his hand dismissively. "Oh, that was just a bit of teasing." He hits me with a self-possessed smirk. "Besides, I never said one thing that wasn't true."

My teeth grind in anger. Seemingly oblivious, Jumin walks to the dining table and takes a seat. He tucks his napkin across his lap and then inspects his food with his fork. He stabs a small piece of the fried chicken and raises it to his mouth, then pauses, looking pointedly at me.

"Why are you not joining me?"

"Seriously?" I bite out. "I tell you that you did something hurtful, you dismiss me, and then expect me to just sit and eat with you?"

Jumin's brow furrows and he sets down his fork back onto his plate. "I did something hurtful?"

"Yes, Jumin!" I say in exasperation.

"By telling the others we slept together…?"

"YES."

"But… I don't understand." Jumin's bewilderment is so obvious it's practically palpable.

I slam my palm against my forehead and head to the fridge. This conversation requires more beer. I crack one open for myself and one for Jumin.

"Here," I say, placing one in front of him. Then I slide into my seat at the table across from him, taking a long draw of my new beer as I do. Closing my eyes, I let out a deep breath. Then I finally feel ready to ask what I need to ask. "Jumin, do you know what 'slept together' means? Other than sleeping?"

"Sex," he answers, without skipping a beat.

My arm flings forward, a definite physical representation of 'what the fuck.' "Well if you know that, why would you think it was a good idea to insinuate to our friends that we did that?!" My voice sounds frantic as I try to make sense of Jumin's thought process.

Jumin cocks his head to the side. "Because… it's funny. Why would our friends think we would have had sex?"

I blink at Jumin, a coral flush coloring my cheeks as my dream of us together flashes once again vividly through my thoughts. I grit out, "Because you're basically telling them we did. You know two men can have sex, right? You should know the term gay by now with how often Seven calls you that."

Jumin's head returns upright and his expression turns stern. "Yes, I discovered how men can be intimate after Googling that term. But why would they believe we would? It would never happen."

At this, anger flares inside me. Am I not good enough for him or something? Poor, commoner Zen isn't good enough for Mr. CEO-in-line? Sarcasm is thick in my tone as I snap out, "Oh yeah? And why not?"

He looks at me awkwardly, as if it should be obvious. But I stare him down, daring him to spit out his derisive judgements.

"Because, Zen. You're not gay."

It takes a moment for the words to hit me, and another moment still for my anger to fade enough to actually process them.

Jumin sighs. Looking at his lap, he adds, "The others joke I am gay because I have never been with a woman. But they all know of your past girlfriends, Zen. No one thinks you are gay. No one thinks you would ever be intimate with me. It seemed like a safe joke to make." He looks up at me then, an apologetic smile on his face. "I was in a fantastic mood this morning and wanted to play a little bit. But I didn't know it would distress you so much. I'm sorry, Zen."

My body seems to stall as my mind goes into overdrive. Is that really it? Is that really all it comes down to? Jumin doesn't think I would ever want him? He was just making a joke? A joke that he didn't think anyone would take seriously because of me not wanting him?

I start looking at everything Jumin has done these last few days in a new light. My thoughts have been muddied by that dream of us together. Every tiny thing he's said or done felt suggestive. I keep running away from a relationship with him, but Jumin has never even had that possibility on his mind.

Suddenly, I feel sad. Lonely. Maybe even a little… heartbroken. Dream or no dream, the things that Jumin has said recently mean something to me. I have never felt so seen, so appreciated, so respected by anyone. And when I woke up in his arms this morning, there is no denying how good that felt. Even just that smile when he came home today… It felt so affectionate. So tender and loving.

I feel the last of my anger melt away. Guilt prickles at my insides as I see things from his perspective. As I realize that I, alone, continue to make up this war between us in my head. That all he wanted from me today was a warm greeting after a long day at work.

I need to do better. I need to accept Jumin for who he is, not who I thought he was. I need… to give us a chance.

With a deep breath and a calming sigh, I smile humbly at Jumin. "Welcome home, Jumin. Let's eat."