Junyoung took a step back. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Truthfully, you’re doing what we’re all dying to do. You think if any of these guys knew they could get away with it, they wouldn’t try? We’re men.”
Junyoung heard his father’s voice ringing in his ears.You just acted on your natural instincts …
“I’m not asking for much,” Kangmin continued. “You don’t have to give me complete access to the system. Just send me a few videos from time to time, and we can keep this between us.” He clapped Junyoung on the shoulder and, without waiting for his response, said, “Don’t work too hard tonight, man. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
It made Junyoung feel sick to his stomach, the sheer idea of giving up what he had worked so hard to achieve. Kangminhad never helped him with anything, and he wasn’t trustworthy in the slightest. Kangmin was a schoolyard bully. A pervert. A freak. If Junyoung gave him the videos, he would probably turn around and post everything online.
And what if he asked for footage of Dahye? Junyoung clenched his fists, shaking his head. He would have to protect her.
The BMW glided up the street and stopped at the curb where Dahye was already waiting. She waved and took a step forward, unsteady in the Christian Louboutin pumps. Her feet already ached. Plus, it was too hot for leather, and a layer of sweat pooled in between her thighs. If Bora were there, Dahye would have strangled her.
Hyukjoon was on the phone, but when he saw her, he leaned over the passenger seat to open the door. “Phone,” he mouthed, pressing a finger to his lips. He cast a sideways glance at her and frowned.
“Listen,” he said to the person on the line. “I get what you’re saying. But we’ll have to circle back on this conversation another time. An urgent matter just came up. No, nothing you need to worry about. Call me tomorrow.”
He hung up and dropped the phone in the cupholder. Dahye smiled as he pulled her in for a kiss.
“I’ve never seen this skirt,” Hyukjoon said, his mouth hot against hers.
“Of course you haven’t,” Dahye said. “It’s new. I got it just for tonight. Do you like it?”
Hyukjoon ran his fingers along the edge of the leather, pulling away from her. “I do,” he said, in a way that indicated he didn’t. “But I’m not sure this is the right outfit for a place like Namu.”
“What do you mean?” she asked softly. Heat crept into her cheeks. She stared at her hands.
“I mean, if you want to wear it, that’s fine. I don’t care. But I’d hate for you to be embarrassed.”
“I’m sorry,” Dahye said. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “I didn’t know. I would have … chosen a different outfit if I’d known.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault. I should have explained the dress code beforehand.”
“What should we do?” She gestured toward her clothing, tears bubbling in her eyes. “Is it too late to reschedule? Maybe we can go to Namu another time?”
“Reschedule?” Hyukjoon asked, puzzled. “Why do we need to reschedule?”
“Because it’s already 7:03, and there’s no time for me to go home and change. I don’t want to go if there’s a chance I might embarrass you or make you look bad.”
“You won’t.” He leaned back, arms folded across his chest. “Why don’t we pick something up on the way to the restaurant? That way we don’t have to double back to your apartment.”
“Pick something up?” Dahye asked. She sniffled, feeling pathetic. “Won’t we be too late?”
Hyukjoon shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is your happiness. That’s all I care about.” He touched the tip of her nose with his finger. “How about this. We’ll stop by a store, andyou can grab something nice. On me.” He smiled and, without waiting for an answer, began to drive.
Gradually, the old brick and concrete buildings and narrow alleyways gave way to sleek skyscrapers. They were cruising through Apgujeong now, where glass and steel dominated the cityscape. Luxury stores peppered each block, and the neon signs blinked at them, casting a warm glow onto Hyukjoon’s face as they passed.
Where were they going? Besides the occasional visit to Starfield Mall, her experiences shopping in Gangnam were limited. She didn’t shop in fancy stores. She didn’t know any of the famous designers; she had never been able to afford them. Feeling lost, Dahye looked around.
Even though it was quickly growing dark, Gangnam was busy. A schoolgirl stood at a street corner, head bowed. Her attention was glued to her phone. In her free hand, she lugged a shopping bag half the size of her body. Behind her, a young couple held hands, though the boy’s face was pinched and unhappy.
The car turned onto a quiet street and rolled into an underground garage. It was mostly empty except for a handful of expensive-looking sports cars.
“Where are we?” Dahye asked. The garage was dimly lit, and there were no markings indicating what kind of place they were visiting.
“You’ll see.”
A valet materialized from the shadows and opened Hyukjoon’s door, bowing low. “Welcome back, sir. It’s good to see you.”