Chapter Seven - Thirty Days Begin (Part 2)

The next morning, I meet Secretary Park for the first time. A head taller than I am, he's easy on the eyes with close cropped hair and a lean build revealing his military background. Face impassive, I can't tell what he's thinking as he holds out a beautiful, yellow dress to me. "I was instructed to prepare this for you."

"Thank you." My cheeks heat as I relieve him of the dress. I'm one hundred percent certain he knows why I'm here.

"Please come down when you're ready." He backs away, his posture reminding me of a well-trained butler. "Breakfast is waiting." With a polite bow, he shuts the door, leaving me to my morning ablution.

Last night, I lied to Mom, telling her I'm sleeping over at Nari's. The guilt sets in. Being here doesn't feel real, even though my muscles are sore. Deep down, I'm not sure if I made the right decision. After signing the contract, Dae didn't pressure me for more sex. In fact, he held me in his arms as we lay in bed, admiring each other like a couple of teenagers, talking about unimportant things until we fell asleep. This morning, he left a note saying he's gone to attend an early morning meeting. He also mentioned that Secretary Park will be dropping by.

Quickly, I freshen up and change, amazed how the dress fits me perfectly. I don't fathom how Dae figured out my size, especially when he's experienced with women. One final check in the mirror, I collect my belongings and head downstairs.

Secretary Park wasn't lying about breakfast. When I enter the kitchen, a plateful of waffles topped with strawberries and cream, a steaming teapot, and a platter of cut fruits overwhelms the countertop. "This looks amazing, Secretary Park." I promptly take a seat, eyes glued to the beautiful setting.

He doesn't crack a smile, though he does pour me a fresh cup of tea. "I'm glad you like it. Please, tuck in. After you're done, I'll take you where you want to go."

I nod, picking up the utensils. If this is life for the next thirty days, I might as well enjoy it.

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Two hours later and I'm home. Secretary Park opens the door for me, and I get off. "Thank you for sending me home."

His response is a taciturn nod before he leaves.

Secretary Park reminds me of a less talkative and unemotional version of Dae. A chuckle escapes me as I imagine how compatible they are, like a well-oiled machine.

Walking up the pathway, I catch sight of the same black sedan from yesterday. This time, it's parked much further away. How odd. Is the driver a neighbor's friend?

Finding that it's none of my business, I enter the house feeling weary.

Dae's home is far out of the city, the opposite direction of where I live. The silent drive took approximately half an hour. Ours may not be a wholesome relationship but it sure demands a level of commitment. I wonder if it ever crossed Dae's mind. Does he think of commitment in terms of faithfulness? Because so far, he's the epitome of a perfect boyfriend — Good looking, wealthy, great in bed and a gentleman when he wants to be. There's bound to be something wrong with him, and I'll find out sooner or later.

"Oh, Aera you're home." Dad greets me from the living room.

I startle at his voice. "Dad, what are you doing home? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" I frown at the sight of his propped-up ankle. "What happened to you?"

"Your father twisted his ankle this morning at work. The doctor sent him home for bedrest." Mom explains, carrying in a tray of tea.

I hurry to his side, checking his foot. "Is it serious? Are you alright?"

"It's nothing to fret about," Dad assures, gesturing for me to sit. "Your Mom told me you spent the night at Nari's home?"

Oh boy, here we go. "I did."

"Aera, you've been unemployed for months. Don't you think it's time to find a job?" He throws out the question we've been circling for weeks, mild disapproval and worry laces his tone. My parents have always been supportive of my decisions, and I know Dad only means well.

I shrug haphazardly, fiddling the hem of my dress. "I haven't decided if I want another corporate job. Right now, I enjoy helping Mom at the flower shop."

The lines on Dad's face evens out. "You know, I've been meaning to ask. Would you like to come work for me? In fact, there's an opening for Logistics Assistant Manager and I'd like you to go through the hiring process." He suggests with a fair amount of enthusiasm. "Do you remember Mr. Lee who used to visit us when you were in college?"

"The one with the super thick glasses?" I recall Mr. Lee to be a distinctly quiet man, nothing to write home about.

"Yes," Dad chuckles like he knows something I don't. "Well, since his current assistant is migrating to Japan, the position is open for hire. I think it's good for you to give it a try. You're adept at organizing and planning, and Chang Min is hopeless at those. With your assistance, you'll make a splendid pairing."

I pull a face at his obvious trick. "You're not trying to set me up with him, are you?"

"You're both single. Doesn't hurt if there's chemistry." Dad points out. "But that's not my intention. I want you to have a goal in life. Right now, you're rotting away. You're young and vigorous! You should be out there, making a name for yourself, Aera."

He's got a point, not that I'll concede it. When I was young, I used to believe that life is all rainbows and unicorns, and that everything will be fine. As an adult, I realize it's a never-ending cycle of corporate jobs, oppressive employers, superficial colleagues and unpaid bills. The only way out is to be an entrepreneur myself, but I don't know what I want yet. "Fine, I'll give it a shot. When is the interview?"

"Today." Dad peeks at his wristwatch. "In fact, I think it's starting now."

"What!" I shoot up to my feet. "Impossible! I won't make it on time."

"You can if you leave now." He's undeterred. "Take the subway, it's a lot faster."

Honestly, I'm a bundle of nerves just thinking about returning to the working world. Half of me dreads it while another half is excited to be useful again. "I'm not properly dressed! And I don't have a copy of my resume."

Dad leans back, eyeing my outfit. "You look fine to me and I'm saying this as the Director of Yang Logistics. If Chang-Ming says otherwise, I'll give him an earful. My daughter is the most beautiful woman besides my wife."

Some daughters may find it embarrassing, but I know I'm well-loved when my father boasts about the women in his life.

"Oh, and don't bother about the resume." He adds. "Just tell the receptionist your name and she'll handle the rest."

That sounds suspiciously like he had it all set up. Why am I surrounded by domineering individuals? Just for today, I'm thankful for my Father's foresight.

"Good luck!" Dad shouts as I rush out the door, going to start a new chapter of my life. Hopefully.

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I arrive at the company in a windblown mess, having ran all the way from the subway station. The lunch hour rush is a veritable war zone. Hastily, I tame my curls and adjust my dress before walking up to the baby-faced receptionist. After my introduction, she shows me to a waiting room.

I'm beyond nervous, my palms are sweating, and I can't stop shaking. Has it been almost a year since I quit my last job? Why do interviews even exist? It's nerve-wrecking to be judged by a complete stranger.

I blame this on my impulsive behavior of late. First it was Dae, and now it's this job interview. Please let this be a temporary phase.

"Ms. Yang?" An older woman interrupts my thoughts. "The manager is ready to see you now."

Swallowing my nerves, I follow her next door. She raps gently and a deep, male voice answers. "Enter."

"Thank you." I murmur, stepping into the mid-size room. My attention lands on a broad-shouldered man hunched over the desk. There's not a hint of his features. "Please, take a seat." He instructs without looking up.

Gingerly, I sit and wait for him to start. He's scribbling furiously on a bunch of papers, and I can't help but peek, realizing it's English.

I-N-D-I-S-P-E-N-S-I-B-L-E.

Hmm, that's spelt wrongly, but I keep quiet. It's bad enough that I can see what he's writing.

Done, he finally looks up and I think it's safe to say we're both taken aback by each other's appearance. This gorgeous man doesn't hold a resemblance to the one in my distant memory. Fashionably styled wavy hair, an impeccably masculine jaw and slanted thick dark brows. This isn't the Mr. Lee I knew. While I study his features, he studies mine.

He clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Ms. Yang? What are you doing here?"

I squirm in my seat, holding onto what I hope is a sanguine smile. "I'm here for the interview. Am I too late?"

"Oh no, no." He shakes his head, digging through an unholy pile on his table until he finds what he's looking for. Coincidentally, a pen cap rolls to my heels and I discreetly pick it up, noticing its Cherrywood color like the naked pen in his breast pocket.

Dad's not kidding about Mr. Lee's hopelessness. His desk is cluttered. Based on first impression, his sophisticated air doesn't reveal that he's a slob. Either he's ignorant or he just doesn't care what people think of him. For his sake, I hope it's the latter.

"The Director mentioned in passing that you might come in for the interview, but he sounded so unsure that I wasn't expecting you to show up." He admits, frankly. A man who doesn't mince words. He flips through what I assume is my profile. "I screen through all our candidates' before inviting them for an interview. Rest assured, if you hadn't met my criteria, I would have rejected you." Direct with words too.

Knowing where I stand with him, and familiar with how he operates, I say. "That's reassuring. I wouldn't want to be accepted because of who I am. Please, don't treat me any differently."

"I won't" He promises, looking me straight in the eye. "I'll be upfront. Degrees and certificates aren't important to me. If you don't have an ounce of common sense, you're out. If you can't work fast, meet deadlines or land on your feet when the situation calls for it, then I suggest we call it a day." He pauses for effect, watching me like a hawk. My silence pleases him, and he continues. "Tell me, why do you think you deserve this job?"

I absolutely hate it when employers ask this question. You either end up giving a generic answer or just bullshitting your way through. Talk is cheap. Anyone can fake their way and promise you sweet nothings. "This job requires me to assist the logistics manager which in turn, supports the company. If the cogs of the company are inefficient, then it will affect the entire chain of operation. I don't know how many candidates you've seen today, but I can tell you with utmost confidence that as your assistant," I hold up three fingers. "Three circumstances in this room won't happen."

He sits taller in his chair, indicating I've piqued his interest. Forcing my lips into a smooth line, I ask. "Pardon me but, can I come closer?" My odd request has his brows lifting, though he consents. Reaching over to his breast pocket, I pluck out the capless pen. "As your assistant, things like a misplaced pen cap definitely won't happen."

Mr. Lee feels his own pocket, telling me he hadn't a clue. Smiling now, I slide the fountain pen back where it belongs. "Second of all, as your assistant, you won't have to bother about translating or reading English ever again. I do have a bachelor's qualification after all, and English is a required skill at my last job." Tapping a finger at the misspelling on his paper. "Indispensable is spelt with a letter A. Furthermore, as your assistant, I'll ensure that today's interview will not be held in this room because it would be highly inappropriate should an outsider have access to private documents, they aren't privy to." I gesture to his mess. "If I were a spy, this will be a wonderland. Moreover, you'll prefer an assistant who works long term because it's easier to rely on someone who knows all the ins and outs, the clients and even your work habits." Settling back into my seat, I remark fearlessly. "And that, Mr. Lee is why you should consider me for this job."