It was still early enough that I could take public transit to the hotel, but I knew I’d never make it in time, so I took my bike and left it in a lot nearby, driving back roads too fast and taking risks I wouldn’t normally take to avoid traffic. The richer someone was, the less tolerant they were of delays so I knew I had to be there on time if I wanted to get the full payment Park had quoted. 

Walking up to the glittering front entrance of the hotel in my worn jeans and t-shirt made me feel incredibly out of place and I wished I had thought to change before taking off, but I held my head high and didn’t flinch when the man talking with an obviously irritated valet turned to look at me with a piercing gaze, no less intense in spite of his obvious inebriation. He was wearing a tuxedo that fit him like a glove and his hair was so carefully coiffed that it barely twitched, even when he tilted his head with skepticism to look at me. 

“Legally, I can’t stop you from driving,” the valet was saying, “so you can take the keys at any time.”

“I can, but I told you I wouldn’t. Are you tired of keeping me company? Here I thought we were becoming friends but you only want to get rid of me.” Jang Yun Seo’s words slurred only slightly, but he was leaning against the column behind him with a telltale slant.

“No, sir, of course not,” the valet said with hands fluttering in the air with anxiety, “but if you want to continue waiting, perhaps you would be more comfortable inside?”

“I’m here to drive him,” I said, a little breathless from my rush to get there in time, bowing fluidly to them both as I caught my breath. 

The man in the tuxedo looked down at his wrist to consult a watch that probably cost more than our house. “You’re late,” he said.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket I verified that I was still on time according to my reckoning and held it up to show him the timer still running with two minutes to spare. “I was told thirty minutes,” I replied. 

A slow smile bloomed across generous lips and he nodded. Patting the valet on the shoulder, he said, “You can give him the keys.”

I took the keys from the valet and noted the make of the car, something European that was obscure and elite enough I didn’t recognize the logo. I wasn’t surprised to find that the car itself was sleek and sporty, something that belonged in a grand prix rather than on the streets of Korea. I’d never driven anything like it before and was a little nervous about how difficult it would be to control.

“It’s polite to introduce yourself,” Jang Yun Seo said as he wove along beside me on our way to the car. 

“Ri Sang Kyu,” I said with another bow. 

He inclined his chin in acknowledgement, and there was something about the way he looked at me that made me feel naked and exposed. He was beautiful, I realized, startlingly so, with the bone structure and physique of a model and perfectly aligned features that made me want to stare at him until I’d mapped every detail. I didn’t get distracted by appearances very often, but Jang Yun Seo had an otherworldly quality that was almost magnetic.

“In Ho said you’re a good driver,” he drawled as I opened the passenger door for him. There wasn’t a back seat, so he would be sitting right beside me, close enough to touch. And smell. In addition to the scent of extravagant alcohol on his breath, his cologne was distracting, a combination of florals and musks that brought to mind sense memories that seemed vulgar for someone so refined. “I guess we’ll see,” he added before slumping into the seat, his words smooth as honey while his movements were barely controlled.

Closing the door gently, I walked around the sweeping lines of the car with butterflies in my stomach, doing my best to mask my anxiety as I settled into the driver’s seat and adjusted everything to fit my taller frame. I felt a little cramped in the vehicle even after I’d put everything in place, the space small and close and his attention so focused on me that I could feel it like a tangible weight on the side of my head.

“Where are we headed?” I asked without looking at him.

He leaned forward to call up an address on the console’s screen, his hand brushing over mine on the gear shift as he sat back. His fingers were surprisingly rough, not the touch I had expected from such manicured hands. I glanced at him and regretted the action when I saw his little grin and the way his eyes glittered in the dark, reflecting the lights from the hotel’s facade like faerie fire. 

I put the car into gear and lurched forward, shocked by the power in the gas and inspiring a darkly amused laugh from my passenger, but I quickly adjusted to the car’s handling. I’d done valet work for a while and test driven a lot of cars – none anywhere close to this caliber – but I knew enough about driving to know how to be gentle with the pedals and adjust quickly to the way a car responded. 

The address he’d given me was on the outskirts of the city, so we had to take highways and curving country roads that twisted and tangled into the mountains to reach a palatial estate perched at the edge of a cliff. The property wasn’t large enough to be connected to one of the traditional chaebol families, but even if Jang Yun Seo came from new money, the mansion made it obvious that his family had more than enough wealth to live like one. He directed me into a monstrous garage filled with vehicles every bit as expensive as the one I was driving and I held my breath as I drove between them, imagining the debt I could add to my name by accidentally colliding with one. 

Putting the car in park, I finally released my breath and glanced at Jang Yun Seo, surprised to see how lucid he looked now. He was watching me with a smile twitching his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief as they crinkled at the edges. 

“You took some of those curves a little fast, don’t you think?” he asked, his words crisp and sharp.

“Did I?” I asked with feigned innocence, knowing he was right but also choosing not to be ashamed of how much fun driving a car like this around mountain roads could be.

Pressing his lips together, he nodded slowly. “But you handled him well otherwise. Better than most.” He stroked a hand fondly over the dashboard as he added, “He’s temperamental for even the best of drivers.” The fact that he used gendered pronouns to refer to the car was odd since such a thing was easily avoidable in Korean, but what was even odder was that he referred to the car as male. Usually men anthropomorphized their vehicles as female and this often came across as either misogynistic or vaguely sexual. I wondered what he intended in this situation. Was he trying to tell me something about his own preferences? Or was I simply projecting my own desire? 

Regardless, he was speaking so clearly now and with such obvious intent that it seemed obvious his drunkenness had been nothing more than an act meant to lower my guard. He’d been drinking, certainly, but he was far too sober now to be as drunk as he’d seemed to be when I first met him. Had this all been a test? Had he called me out at the last minute and feigned inebriation so that he would seem like an easy mark when he was really giving me a difficult car to drive on winding roads to see how I held up under the stress?

“I suppose you’re waiting for your payment,” he said, pulling a wallet out of the inner pocket of his suit and retrieving bills of a denomination I’d rarely seen singly let alone in a stack. “I’d like to hire you for a week and we’ll see how you do.” His nose wrinkled as he gave me a once over and handed over the money. “I’m including an advance you can use to buy some more presentable clothes. I have an appointment tomorrow morning. Pick me up here at nine.”

Taking the money and tucking it carefully into my pocket, I swallowed my unspoken protest, deciding I could call in sick to my part-time job for the morning rather than quitting right away in case things didn’t work out. But even if I lost the job, I was making more with this advance than I did in two months at the cafe. Looking up to meet his eyes again, I lifted the keys, doubting he actually expected me to drive the sportscar anywhere without him in it. He had said to pick him up, but I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to get home now. It was late enough now that public transit had shut down and a taxi out to somewhere this remote was going to be expensive. I had plenty of cash on hand because of him, but I didn’t want to waste so much of it so quickly. 

Jang Yun Seo took the keys and got out of the car so I followed his example, looking around the garage in awe at all the shiny polished vehicles and fighting the urge to roll my eyes. Everywhere a car to drive but none to take me home. 

“Here,” he said, walking around the car to me without so much as a waver in his balance, his leather shoes clicking against the concrete with every step. He was holding out another key, this one to a BMW and I took it with a frown. “You can take the one on the end,” he said nodding to an unassuming black car near the exit that looked more functional than beautiful but likely cost almost as much as the sportscar. 

“I can’t park that in my neighborhood,” I said, shaking my head.

“Then leave it at the hotel. You have to pick up your bike anyway, right?”

A laugh escaped my lips before I could catch it.

“In Ho said you’d wrecked it. You must have gotten it fixed pretty quickly.”

“I got hurt more than the bike,” I admitted.

He nodded thoughtfully, amusement still flickering in his eyes. “Ri Sang Kyu, right? I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

Looking away from his intense gaze, I shrugged. “I should be getting home.”

“See you tomorrow.” 

He turned away with a wave, and my eyes lingered on his back as he walked toward the house entrance, tracing the narrow cut of his hips and the proud angle of his shoulders. I found myself wanting to follow him for no reason I could explain. I’d never felt that way about anyone before, like I was somehow diminished in his absence, the room emptier and darker without his larger-than-life presence filling all the space. 

An easy job, Park In Ho had called it. I wasn’t sure how easy it would be in reality, but I knew I wanted it. Badly.