Knock knock.
Yeonwoo silently counted to three, then opened the door. Keith was seated in nearly the same position as when Yeonwoo had left the office. The only difference was the ashtray in front of him, now overflowing with cigarette butts. Naturally, the room was thick with cigarette smoke.
He gathered his courage and walked straight across the office, standing in front of Keith. For a brief moment, he wondered which was more suffocating—the smell of pheromones or the stench of cigarettes. Not that it mattered now; it would be ridiculous to change his mind at this point.
“I’ve selected a few candidates.”
He laid three files out in front of Keith. With more attentiveness than before, Keith flipped through the portfolios. Soon, he handed one back to Yeonwoo after opening it briefly. Yeonwoo picked up the remaining files, placing the selected one on top. He planned to keep the other two organized just in case Keith needed a last-minute replacement. He immediately handed over another folder.
“The schedule has been readjusted. It’s all here. Let me know if there are any further changes.”
Keith merely glanced down at it.
“Leave it and go.”
Yeonwoo placed the file silently on the desk as Keith lit another cigarette. There were a few more items to report, but they weren’t urgent. He wasn’t about to provoke someone who already looked irritated by standing around and talking unnecessarily. As instructed, he quietly left the office.
Once he was alone in the hallway, a delayed ache stirred in the corner of his chest. He looked down at the folder in his hand. From the slightly open page, a glamorous beauty stared back at him.
It was something he could never dream of anyway.
He brushed his lips absentmindedly. The dull ache in his heart spread outward, turning sharp where his lips still stung.
It had just been a stroke of luck—one triggered by pheromones.
Yeonwoo stared blankly at the woman in the photo.
That kind of miracle wasn’t going to happen again.
A period of relative peace passed. It wasn’t quiet, but nothing particularly eventful happened either. Keith continued cycling through partners, and each time, Yeonwoo found new women. The other secretaries took turns going to Tiffany’s or delivering cards and jewelry to the selected partner’s home.
Of course, all the miserable work landed on Yeonwoo’s plate. When Keith abruptly changed the schedule, he was the one apologizing to the women and begging to reschedule. When a rare item had to be procured at the last minute, he was the one to track it down and set it on Keith’s desk. When a partner had a meltdown after being dumped, he had to stay composed and push reality in their face with an offer they couldn’t refuse.
Nothing had changed since before he resigned—except for one thing: the turnover rate was too fast.
“I’m back.”
At the sound of Emma’s voice, Yeonwoo looked up. Her face showed signs of fatigue, and he felt a twinge of sympathy.
“Thank you, Emma. I hope everything went smoothly?”
“Of course.”
But even as she said it, her face remained tired. It wasn’t just her. The rest of the secretarial staff looked the same.
Yeonwoo, more than anyone, was exhausted. The most recent partner had slapped his face and kicked his shin. The one before that had yanked his hair. And before that, he’d been drenched with water from a flower vase.
He should’ve just taken the stock options.
That thought drifted through his worn-out mind. For the amount of work he was doing, it would have been worth it. Better to be overworked than deal with this. It was already miserable having to select Keith’s sex partners—enduring physical abuse on top of that was just ridiculous.
If the opportunity came again, he’d definitely ask for a million shares.
As the thought passed through him, Yeonwoo frowned.
No, what was he thinking. Next time, he’d really quit.
“Yeonwoo?”
The voice calling him brought him back to himself. Emma was looking at him in puzzlement. Embarrassed, he quickly pretended to be busy. Then Emma said quietly,
“I’m sorry, Yeonwoo. You always end up doing the hardest jobs.”
At the unexpected comment, he looked up. She wore an expression full of guilt. Only then did he realize what she meant. Today, she had gone to deliver jewelry to a new woman. Which meant Yeonwoo would now have to go and break the news to the former one.
“It’s my job. Please don’t worry about it.”
He said it plainly, then swallowed a sigh. Some things never became easier no matter how many times you did them. Being insulted to his face wore him down—even if he tried to stay detached. Especially when the breakups were happening so frequently.
“Don’t you think Mr. Pittman’s been changing partners too often lately?”
Emma suddenly said what Yeonwoo had been thinking. It felt oddly like they were on the same wavelength, but it wasn’t just them. Jane and Rachel chimed in as well.
“She’s right. It’s gotten worse.”
“Sometimes I wonder if something happened.”
“Something happened…”
Yeonwoo wanted to deny it, but he didn’t have any more insight into Keith than the others did. The best he could say was:
“Mr. Pittman has always been… indulgent. He’s never been consistent with his partners.”
“But the timing’s weird.”
Emma pressed on.
“Even so, he used to stay with someone at least two or three months. Sometimes even six months. But now? He switches them out practically every month.”
Before he could think of a response, Jane cut in.
“Do you think Mr. Pittman’s trying to start a new jewelry business? Maybe he’s planning to buy out Tiffany’s?”
Rachel immediately scolded her.
“How’s he supposed to buy Tiffany’s one bracelet and one necklace at a time? That’s a stupid idea.”
“But he buys them so often.”
“No way. That’s not it.”
Rachel let out a sigh and flicked Jane’s nose. Jane rolled her eyes, and Yeonwoo finally opened his mouth.
“Either way, that’s Mr. Pittman’s personal life. Our job is to make sure Mr. Pittman is comfortable—both professionally and personally. That’s all.”
Emma looked unconvinced as she replied,
“I suppose you’re right.”
Yeonwoo stood, signaling the end of the conversation.
“Then I’ll be off to meet Miss Annabelle James. Please make sure Mr. Pittman’s schedule stays on track.”
“You’re not coming back?”
Jane asked. Yeonwoo glanced back at her.
“If nothing comes up, I’ll be back. But I doubt it.”
Rachel gave Jane an elbow jab after seeing Yeonwoo’s bitter smile. Pretending not to notice, he turned and left the office. A sudden wave of exhaustion dragged across his body.
***
“Is that so? Then I suppose it can’t be helped.”
Yeonwoo’s eyes widened in surprise. It was such a cheerful answer. Had there ever been a partner who accepted a breakup so willingly? Caught off guard, he found himself blankly staring at her face. Annabelle burst into laughter.
“What? Did you think I’d throw a fit? I’m disappointed. You saw me as someone like that?”
“Ah, no. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”
Flustered, he stammered. Annabelle, still smiling, spoke again.
“I’ve heard all about Mr. Pittman’s reputation. Honestly, I should be grateful I got the chance at all. It didn’t last as long as I’d hoped, but what can you do? It’s not like he’d come back if I protested. So what choice do I have but to move on with reality?”
Even as she spoke, Yeonwoo couldn’t quite believe it. The woman before him had, until last year, held the number one spot as the top model. She’d lost the title to a rising star, but her status remained unshaken.
Was it something different about those who reached the top?
This kind of grace and composure—he hadn’t imagined it. Having prepared himself for insults and screaming, he now only felt strangely hollow.
To think Keith had dumped a woman like this after just three weeks.
A quiet sense of pity stirred in him. If only the next partner were someone like her.
“What’s that? Is it for me?”
Her voice pulled him back. He held out the envelope he’d been carrying.
“Ah, yes. This is a gift in appreciation for the pleasure you’ve given Mr. Pittman.”
Annabelle accepted the envelope with an elegant motion. Her well-manicured nails caught his eye.
“I’ve heard he’s very generous with these things.”
She let out a soft laugh and added, almost to herself,
“Not that it’s necessary, really.”
“……?”
A strange feeling crept over him. The words were perfectly ordinary, just a polite remark—but something about them rubbed him the wrong way.
And there was something else.
She used the tip of one nail to part the envelope slightly, then set it down on the table without even looking inside. Her posture showed no interest at all in what it contained.
Maybe she thought it improper to check it in front of him.
He tried to rationalize it, but the unease didn’t go away. Annabelle was far too casual. As if none of this mattered to her in the slightest.
There was something.
It wasn’t a guess—it was certainty. She was hiding something. And not something trivial like a country club membership, or expensive jewelry, or a movie role that would boost her filmography. It was something far more extraordinary—something that couldn’t be compared to such things.
“So, are we finished here?”
Her voice brought him back to himself. She was already preparing to see him out, as if nothing more needed to be said. That wouldn’t do. He scrambled for something.
“Yes, but… I’m sorry, would it be alright if I had a glass of water? I was so nervous, my throat’s dry.”
He added an awkward smile, and she nodded graciously.
“Handling breakups isn’t exactly easy, is it?”
Annabelle spoke as if she understood everything, then headed toward the kitchen. A moment later, she returned with a glass of cold water.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
Yeonwoo smiled as he accepted the cup. It was an act that required delicate, precise timing. The few seconds that followed were brief, but he focused every nerve on not losing that moment, trying not to let the smile slip from his face while staying fully alert. His skin tingled with tension.
“Oh no!”
“Oh—!”
Their exclamations overlapped. At a narrow, deliberate timing, their hands missed each other. The glass tilted instantly, soaking his shirt and pants as it tipped toward the floor.
Thunk—a dull sound rang out as the cup hit the carpet. Both of them stared at the fallen glass for a second, then raised their heads almost simultaneously.
“I’m so sorry. I guess I relaxed too much.”
He waved his hands as if flustered, acting embarrassed. She widened her eyes, then quickly shook her head and gestured dismissively.
“No, it’s alright. But oh dear—your clothes are soaked.”
Unluckily—or rather, just as planned—the water had spilled right down from the hem of his shirt through his crotch. Yeonwoo forced a deeply awkward expression.
“Ah… of all places.”
She finally smiled brightly and reached out her hand.
“Well, it can’t be helped. Take them off, I’ll dry them for you.”
This time, the embarrassment was real. He turned around and hesitated as he began to remove his pants. In those few seconds, he quickly took in the layout of the apartment.
“Wow, you have a really nice ass.”
When she spoke, he turned toward her voice. She was staring openly at his backside. His face flushed hot. Turning around would expose the front, so he bent awkwardly and handed her the pants from the side. Annabelle grinned knowingly, draped the pants over her arm, and turned away.
“My ex-husband’s pajamas should be around somewhere. I was going to throw them out, but if you don’t mind, you can wear those until your clothes dry.”
“Ah, of course. Thank you.”
Yeonwoo bowed slightly, and Annabelle nodded.
“I’ll go get them. Just a second. Now where did I put them?”
As she looked around as though searching her memory, Yeonwoo added,
“The pants will take some time to dry, so please take your time.”
Annabelle turned and looked back at him. When their eyes met, he smiled. She smiled in return, then gave him a mischievous glance downward.
“Shouldn’t you dry that too?”
As she pointed out, even his underwear was soaked. Yeonwoo flushed again and glanced around in a panic. She pointed with her finger.
“There’s a hair dryer in that bathroom.”
“Thank you.”
He bowed again, and as she turned to head toward the laundry room, he veered off in a different direction—posing as if he were heading to the bathroom. The last time he had come to deliver jewelry, she had carried it inside protectively. Items like that were usually kept in a study or a bedroom. It had to be one of the two.