This was bad.

I could feel something in my chest, the flutters that happened when I started noticing how pretty his face was turned to a steep anxiety.

His dark, brown eyes were so cold that they sucked all of the warmth out of the room. They raked over the company heads in the conference room. Immediately, the professional guise that the executives worked so hard to maintain disappeared.

But that wasn’t all.

Another man followed him in.

This one was taller; much, much taller, much leaner. His hair was slicked back, his suit seemed even blacker than Do Hyun’s. While Do Hyun’s gaze was intense, this guy’s look was cool – cold. Freezing. If he wasn’t wearing glasses, I was sure that we would have felt some kind of ice vision superpower from him. He looked from end to end in the room, his face in a perfectly still, stone-like disinterest.

His eyes went past mine – and then whipped back to me. I felt immediately unnerved. He didn’t stop looking at me, his face unchanging as if it were a mask, while Do Hyun stepped over to his side of the conference table. His fingers felt along the table surface as he looked down at it, discerning the wood grain while the executives trembled and the Chairman tried to muster some kind of greeting.

We were already falling apart. All it took was his walking in.

“Thank you so much for coming to meet with us,” said the chairman, finally mustering the courage to speak up. He stood, offered a bow, and the rest of the heads followed his lead, bowing, and I did too from the side of the room. I kept my hands folded and attempted to be as invisible as possible. But I definitely wasn’t invisible. The tall one actually kept looking at me for what felt like minutes, his dangerously lean face still unmoved.

He and Do Hyun finally moved into their chairs, not acknowledging our company heads. While it could have been considered disrespectful if they were on equal social footing, it was obvious that Do Hyun considered himself far, far above us all.

Now that, I didn’t understand. Sure – he was a luxury café owner. But we were a multinational company – if anything, we had more to offer him than he did us. But that was clearly not how he saw it.

Then he spoke. The sound of his voice was like honey, dipped in the essence of a dark, deeply spiced tea.

“You assured me that you knew what you were doing. That a partnership would be between equals in skill.” The way he spoke – it seemed so… elegant. It was almost accented, refined and careful, as if he practiced the way he spoke all his life and was naturally suited to the most elegant social circles. He closed his eyes and rolled his head to the side. “But all I see is a building of glass and steel. I see you, in suits, and I see the markings of corporate efficiency. But what I don’t see,” he said, opening his eyes, and leaning forward, gangster-like, “…is anything that demonstrates your understanding of flavor, or of the dining experience. It is sterile, here. Ever since I walked in, I’ve been convinced that I made an incredible mistake coming here.”

The chairman quickly cleared his throat. “Mister Do Hyun, please forgive us – we’re a company that focuses on the international distribution and marketing of a luxury product. Our outward appearance will always reflect that,” he said nervously. “But I assure you – we went to great lengths to show you how serious we are about quality, and want you to personally experience the lengths that we will go to ensure a partnership between us gives your own brand the skill and care it deserves.” He carefully gestured toward me. “Miss Jung Hwa here is the head chef in our test kitchen – while her purpose is typically to develop superior food concepts, we’ve asked her to prepare you a luncheon that will demonstrate our commitment to skill and luxury-class quality.”

Then Do Hyun leaned back, and cooly turned to look at me for the first time.

And his cold, dark eyes connected with mine.

And they widened.

And his face changed – just for a split second. For a mere instant his lips parted, his head turned in shock and curiosity.

And my heart stopped.

But immediately, his face changed back to its cold, collected, arrogant self. “Miss… Jung Hwa.” He said, his lips moving over my name in what I knew was a whisper, but it rushed through my ears like an icy wind – not that his tone was hostile, or that he was angry, or even that the words themselves were cold.

There was something in his tone that made me feel confused.

And while I wasn’t sure exactly what it was, I almost wanted to say that it was…