Chapter Nine #2
Heart beating rapidly, Timira tries to take in gentle sips of air even as every cell in her body wants to shove both Haneul and Mina out of her cabin, and out of my life .
Mina’s eyes are fixed on Haneul, whose face looks to have lost all colour and who cannot seem to look away from Timira’s direction.
Mina is looking at Haneul looking at Timira. The Second Skin office has never before witnessed such a stand-off.
Timira is the first to break out of the awkward air that had engulfed them, her cold voice piercing the silence. ‘I think we might be putting on a show for the rest of the staff.’
Mina is quick to respond. ‘I did not intend to disrupt your work …’
Sure you did, you gorgeous chudail! Timira rolls her eyes inside her mind.
Mina walks towards the door and then turns around, ‘Haneul, are you planning to stand here all day long?’
Haneul hasn’t taken his pleading eyes off Timira even for once.
‘Mr Baek, Daepyonim, do you have anything to say to me?’ Timira’s tone is almost mocking but her eyes are red and full of sadness.
Why am I feeling this sad? I barely even know this dude! This is not heartbreak, but why does it feel like it?
Timira isn’t sure why but every inch of her body hurts to see Haneul’s beautiful face look ashen and his confident gait seems unsure as he bows lightly, mutters his apologies and hurriedly walks out, ignoring Mina, who has been standing at the door.
She feels her knees wobble and stomach twist to see him go.
Wearing a look of exasperation, he turns around to walk away.
With one last glance at Timira, who has promptly switched on her laptop and buried her face inside the screen, Mina follows Haneul out, her steps small, her heart heavy and her suspicion confirmed.
Something is indeed brewing between Haneul and Timira. Eottohkaji?
* * *
It hadn’t taken long for the SecondSkin employees to turn what had gone down inside Timira’s cabin into fodder to keep the gossip mills churning.
First, the stand-off between Haneul and Rodrigo.
It had been obvious to everyone present that Timira was caught between the two of them.
Barely two days had passed since the incident, and a fresh new episode was now out for all to see.
Even a whole week after the cabin fiasco, people were still talking about it.
After all, they had never before seen their squeaky clean and seemingly saintly CEO get embroiled in anything even remotely resembling a scandal.
And then, BOOM! A possible scandal even more engrossing than the latest season of Pachinko.
Theories ranged from a one-night stand to love at first sight.
This morning too, like the previous six, the excitement across the pantry is palpable.
‘What did Hanee say? What, what? C’mon, tell us!’ ‘Nothing! She said nothing.’
‘What do you mean ‘nothing’? She’s joined at the hip with Timira-ssi …’
‘No, she isn’t,’ Hanee’s voice booms, dry and flat but making itself heard over the cafeteria chatter, as she walks in briskly and immediately busies herself with the espresso machine. ‘ Bbuttakhanda, jaebal geumanassipseo [I beg you. Please put a stop to this]! Stop making up stories. Please!’
‘ Uwa! Look at you, such a loyal hoobae . Don’t forget that she’ll leave and you’ll stay. With us.’
‘Is that a hyeobbag ?!’ Hanee is now fuming. ‘ Yaaaa !’ She turns the machine off and flicks her bangs so they don’t hide the rage she is sure her eyes are filled with.
‘ Yaa ? Did you just say “ ya” to us? Your seniors?’
‘Are you even behaving like seniors? Gossiping, spreading rumours when in fact you know nothing!’
She quickly gulps the words that are at the tip of her tongue and threatening to spill out.
‘Well, then, tell us what you know! Daepyonim has been MIA since that day, Timira-ssi has been avoiding us, I just saw Ms Jung and Choi Bujangnim locked in a heated conversation …’
‘I did, too.’ ‘Me too.’ ‘ Nado !’ More voices join in.
‘How is any of this proof of the scandal you all have made up and fermented like kimchi?!’
‘Honey!’ Timira’s high-octave voice trills from across the doorway. The soft sound of muffled footsteps follows. After the many accidents involving the floor, her lack of balance and her questionable choice of footwear, she has resorted to wearing furry slides around the office.
Keep your standards high, not your heels , she has reasoned yet again and managed to convince herself.
‘Here you are, I’ve been looking everywhere!’
‘Oh, wow. The entire office is here. Geurae, coffee first. Everything else can wait, right?’
There’s pin-drop silence around her, the kind that greets every topic of gossip when they walk in on the gossipers.
Timira isn’t new to this. Her time with Rodrigo had been nothing short of a lesson in how to navigate the world of celebrity and associated paraphernalia, aka oily agents, calculating brands, opportunistic family, paparazzi and swirling rumours.
Sure, theirs had been a clandestine affair and her identity had remained a secret, but she had been privy to the pitfalls of being talked about.
‘Honey, looks like there’s a package for me from the courier waiting downstairs. Will you be a doll and fetch it, please? Don’t worry about the coffee, I’m on it!’
With that, she flashes a bright smile like her teeth have just been bleached, fake like the ‘Channel’ bags sold on Linking Road.
She has to drag Hanee, who can only look at Timira with a telltale look of apology, away by her shoulders and gently push her out of the door.
Turning back, she casually skips towards the espresso machine.
As it whirs, she tears a packet of brown sugar open and pops it inside her mouth.
She rolls her tongue over and under the tiny crystals and savours each of them equally.
Her espresso shot ready, she picks up the mugs with both hands and exits the pantry with a parting shot but sans even as much as a glance at the audience.
‘Next time you’re curious, feel free to ask me. Please don’t corner and bully a young employee. She’s a good kid. Even after I’m gone, she’ll be an asset to you …’
The pantry congregation lets out a collective sigh and has only begun to collect its thoughts after being stunned into silence when the trilly voice makes a comeback. Only this time, it sounds like its owner is laughing.
‘Just to set the record straight, I’ve neither slept with the boss nor was it love at first sight. You can verify new stories and theories with me. Happy to help!’
The pantry congregation is not laughing.
Timira has half a mind to run back to her cabin but has to carefully balance the hot coffee mugs in her hands.
With her luck, they’d be all over her flounced, white, broderie anglaise shirt if she even as much tries to pick up her pace.
It’s not a very short walk back to her cabin, and her colleagues’ stunned but suspicious faces are now dancing across the dark of her mind.
Some are also holding placards with ‘One-Night Stand’, ‘Adulterer’, ‘Scandal’ written across them.
Am I Demi Moore from Scarlet Letter ? No, no, no. If I must be burned at the stake, I’ll be Joan of Arc.
Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the wet floor sign, misses a step, and her knees are ready in a flash, like always, to give way. But, almost instantly, she feels a hand on the small of her back gently pushing her back up.
‘Here, let me. I’m good at handling hot stuff,’ a familiar, warm, slightly nasal voice teases.
The hand doesn’t move until Timira has steadied herself, which she takes what seems like an eternity to do.
Not again! What kind of a woman needs to be saved by a man every single time? Why, just why must I keep falling and making a fool of myself? Yaar, Bhagwan ji, could you not have made me a little more coordinated? Just a little?
She curses her luck under her breath, all while her heart has skipped one beat too many and her fingers have gone from trembling from the heat to being frozen.
She is dying to turn her head and face the owner of the hand—after all, she has waited for this very moment the whole of the past week.
But now that it’s finally here, she can’t seem to trust herself and is worried her face might give away her true feelings.
I can’t look too happy to see him, right?
That’d make it too obvious. Why am I even happy to see him?
He behaved like such a douche that day! And then just took off for a whole goddamn week.
Missed my welcome dinner even. Does he think I’ve been waiting for him all this while?
Why would I? He’s getting married to someone else.
It’s not like I’m having an affair with him.
Oh, God, I hope the pantry party isn’t spying on me.
If I’m caught here, forget the pantry, they’ll spread rumours across the country!
Will it reach India, too? Every desi has Korea on their recent search these days!
Oh, no. Mummy will also know! Okay, focus, Tim, focus.
Let’s first take this to a slightly more private space. Breathe, breathe!
Flipping her hair back, Timira turns her head to the right and catches Haneul looking intently at her, a mischievous smile dancing on the corners of his mouth.
NO, NO, NO! Not the mouth. Not that immensely kissable rosebud mouth. Ah, I’m going nuts!
‘Oh, Mr Baek, you’re back?’
‘Why, do you want me to gobaek?’