Chapter Seven
Seoul, Korea
Autumn
I wonder if she recognizes me …
Haneul’s heart beats wildly as he gazes at Timira, whose eyes have been transfixed on her employer’s face for a while now. But she breaks out of her daze as Haneul’s questioning, wondrous eyes dig even deeper. She now appears nonplussed.
Is that a look of annoyance? Why is he staring like that …
I mean, not that I mind. Oh, God! I’ve again been caught checking out a man at work.
Great start, Timira. Clearly you’ve learnt nothing about keeping your hormones in check at the workplace.
Ah, these desperate, flirty-six-year-old ovaries, kambakkht got no chill …
oh, wait. No, no, no, no! Mr Baek, nooooo!
Don’t roll your sleeves up! Yaar, dharti phatt jaaye aur mujhe nigal jaaye.
Timira’s eyes follow Haneul’s hands as they expertly unfasten his cuffs, linked together with something that sparkles briefly before bowing out to their owner’s aura.
Having realized that Timira’s memory is yet to come back and she still doesn’t recognize him, his eyes wander away from her as he tries desperately to not appear crestfallen and attempts to maintain his composure.
Sinewy forearms on display, he clears his throat and calls out Timira’s name—his eyes are now looking out of the window in an attempt to not let his disappointment show, trying to adjust to the bright sunshine streaming in—his enchanting nasal baritone turning Timira’s already flushed cheeks a few shades redder.
Mr Choi, who has only just got off a call he’d been on for a while, has to intervene.
‘Excuse me, Ms Marak. Are you alright? Are you feeling hot? You are so red!’
He seldom uses a pitch this high at work and seems rather embarrassed to hear himself. Even Haneul looks up in surprise, abandoning the child on the street outside his Cheongdam-dong office, who’s been giving his mother a hard time with what looks like chewing gum on a fresh perm.
‘Aah, yes. Yes, sorry. So sorry. Must be the time difference. Jet lag must be, finally, catching up, hehehe. My cheeks turn red when I’m tired. It’s an auto-immune response, all my blood goes to my face and head to keep my brain from shutting down.’
Um, what? Wow, well done, Tim. What did I just say? The hell is wrong with me? The science is definitely not sciencing. What a doofus I am!
Mr Choi stares at her incredulously. Staring at her shoes, Timira laughs weakly. She can feel Haneul’s gaze on her. She looks up to find him smirking—a lopsided smile, the left corner of his pink mouth upturned only very slightly.
She knows he knows (that she’s been checking him out). He knows she knows that he knows (that she’s really been checking him out).
Timira quickly turns to look at Mr Choi. He’s rubbing his chin, and the vertical eleven frown lines between his brows look deeper than usual. He sighs deeply and steps towards Haneul, looking like he’s about to say something.
But Timira, desperately wanting to not come across as a bumbling, blushing lecherous idiot, beats him to it.
‘Thank you for bringing me on board, Mr Baek. When I first found out about the job, I wasn’t sure why somebody would want to hire an Indian in this role when you could hire a native English speaker …’
It was a valid question, one that Haneul had had to face multiple times during the hiring process. One that he still doesn’t have a particularly great answer to, aside from the fact that she had the credentials and it was her. It was Timira. Nothing else had really mattered to him.
‘… but I suppose 200 years of British rule makes us sort of native speakers, too!’ Timira laughs nervously.
Why am I doing all the staring today itself? I’m going to see him for the next three months, teehee! With this, she starts to feel a little at ease.
Haneul is keen to know if she has had a comfortable flight, if she likes the flat she’s been put up at … If she’d have dinner with me. Wait, whaaaat? Haneul, neo michyeosseo (Are you crazy)? Don’t creep her out, man! Chill out!
‘Well, I’m glad your sense of humour is not jet-lagged, Ms Marak!
We are thrilled to have you here. Choi Bujangnim will help bring you up to speed about what we are looking to work on with you.
Of course, I’ll be there …’ Haneul is working hard at maintaining his cool composure, and in a softer tone adds, ‘… every step of the way.’
He said, ‘Every step of the way.’ Tim, teri toh lottery lagg gayi!
‘I would like that very much! Not that I will need a lot of hand-holding, but it is indeed reassuring to know that …’
I can hold your hand whenever I need to, every step of the way.
‘… I can hold your hand whenever I feel like, every step of the way.’
Mr Choi gasps as Haneul grins, his sparkling pearly whites on full display.
WHAT DID I JUST DO??? CAN I DIE ALREADY?
MY STUPID EFFING MOUTH! Timira grimaces while conjuring up an escape route inside her brain that is being increasingly outrun by her mouth.
She contemplates bolting, but decides against it because she is a professional and professionals don’t bolt. They simply move quickly .
‘Bujangnim , I suspect I might’ve taken up a lot of Mr Baek’s time here. I’m sure he’s a busy man, right, Mr Baek?’ She speaks breathlessly and doesn’t look at Haneul or even wait for his response. ‘Shall we step out and discuss my project?’ Timira quickly takes charge.
Yes, I need to get out of here. Where are my cigarettes?
Coffee! I need coffee. Right, I’ll be fine.
It’s okay. Everything’s a-okay. I’m a professional, yes!
Handsome Haneul ki hansi mein main NOT phansi.
This goriya means business in Korea! I will be India’s greatest export to Korea after Anupam Tripathi, garlic naan and Shah Rukh Khan!
The BGM to Timira’s inner monologue is now playing Phir Bhi Dil Hai Hindustani ’s ‘I’m the Best’. She has a wicked glint in her eyes.
‘Yes, of course. I apologize for keeping you this long. Seongjae- ssi , please mentor Ms Marak and make sure she’s comfortable. Time is short, it’s best if we get to it ppalli .’Haneul is hiding his smile with a lot of effort.
Koi hero yahan (ME),
Koi zero yahan (YOU)
Abhijeet Bhattacharya’s voice is unable to finish the line. Looking understandably annoyed at Haneul for having burst her beloved Bollywood bubble, Timira bows ever-so-slightly, and flashing a noticeably fake smile to no one in particular, turns to walk away.
Oh, that door! Right, I have to push. Huh, I won’t get fooled twice!
She confidently struts towards the door and pushes with all her might until Mr Choi intervenes and asks her to step aside.
Pointing at a sign that reads ‘pull’, he gently opens the gateway to Timira’s great escape.
Unable to meet his eye, she mutters her thanks and walks as swiftly as her new pair of I-mean-business heeled boots and accompanying shoe bites allow her.
She mostly limps.
Stupid boots! These are meant for neither walking nor running!
Mr Choi, gentle in manners as in appearance, turns to shut the door behind him.
Haneul’s gaze is fixed on Timira. His expressions, though, aren’t particularly telling and Mr Choi is about to berate himself for his wild imagination when Haneul walks towards the glass wall, eyes still lingering on Timira’s receding figure.
Smiling broadly, he runs his fingers through his hair and pats his chest twice before crumpling a piece of paper into a ball and deftly kicking it right into the trash can.
This surely can’t be. Daepyonim?! Is he really smiling this hard? Mr Choi is unable to hide his amazement at Haneul’s unusually bright countenance.
He recalls the time he spotted Timira’s visiting card on Haneul’s desk when they were recruiting for her position.
He had spotted it a second time during a meeting where potential candidates were being discussed with the department heads.
Haneul had been twirling it between his fingers as profiles were presented and analysed.
His curious gaze had followed Haneul as he softly put the card down and in a firm voice announced his plan of recruiting an international hire whom he had personally headhunted and who came highly recommended by a client.
Like the rest of the office, he too was keen to find out more about this rank outsider whom Haneul had decided to hire.
And just like them all, with a silent prayer to the gods of the Internet, he jumped on to Naver search.
Sadly, though, all the sleuthing around had thrown up a bunch of reels that revealed only two things—she had two friends, a man and a woman who looked like they were a couple, and a singing voice, albeit drunken, that could put many a soloist out of work.
… the shoot in Bali, hiring Ms Marak . . could they both be connected? Or, is it just uyeon? Mr Choi wonders as he walks towards his part of the office. He flicks his gelled Nick Carter bangs back and, despite the warning signs, decides it’s still too early to launch an investigation.
* * *
Elsewhere, Timira is frantically looking for her hemp cigarettes when she hears a knock on the door to her cabin.
‘Excuse me, Ms Marak?’
It’s sweetly accented English in a kind female voice.
‘Yes?’ Timira answers half-heartedly without bothering to look at the visitor.
‘Wow, looks like a storm passed by. Are you looking for something? Can I help?’ she asks gently.
‘Yeah, it’s a mess. I know. But, thanks for informing me.’
Hang on. I’m having a conversation in English?! Who am I even speaking with?! Who aside from Mr Choi here knows English?
Curious, Timira looks up to find that the owner of the gentle voice is a young woman.
Possibly still in her early twenties. Porcelain skin, bright monolid eyes made to pop with a light stroke of turquoise eyeliner, delicately drawn aegyosal , a neatly tied ponytail with loose bangs perfectly framing a small face housing a bunch of sharp features.
‘Wow, you’re gorgeous!’