THE CONNOISSEUR
Min-hee sat through the most arduous lunch in her life.
She watched with indignation as Ki Woong became a connoisseur all of a sudden, lavishly praising the food to the extent of having three helping. And for every bite, there was a corresponding "hmmm", "yum" and smacking of lips.
Reverend Dae-hyun had gone down to the Vicarage's cellar to retrieve another full bottle of soju and a bottle of Melville's Pinot which of course in every indication was new to Min-hee.
As confused as she was to why her father was all about trying to bond with the dark lord, she couldn't also help but feel a little bit concerned. So with raised eyebrows, she asked, "Should Mr Ki be drinking if he's driving?"
"Oh. No need to worry," Ki Woong answered cordially with a smile. "Mr Ki walked from the Manor and will return there in the same way."
What? Has he moved in already? Certainly not. Had he completed all due process?
There wasn't any way he could be living there with no gas, electricity or water and not even a trace of furniture in sight.
In some way, it was funny to Min-hee as she imagined him camping there with a sleeping bag and portable stove. Which to her wasn't possible, he was the Dark Lord for crying out loud!
If he was the journalist she'd first assumed, then the tv channel would have made arrangements for his accommodation. But irrespective of her imagination, she was more perturbed of how her father was genuinely enjoying the Dark Lord's company, listening with fascination about his companies, musicians he had groomed, and of course countries and cities he had visited.
But to Min-hee, the dark lord couldn't fool her one bit as she had suspected that those stories were carefully cleaned up, altered and spiced to suit this purpose.
She paused occasionally as she ate, drinking the wine and paying apt attention to his words, tones and body movements — biding her time.
Leaning on the popular verse in the bible, "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaketh."
She waited.
Yet, to her uttermost dismay, their guest seemed to be disclosing a generous amount of likable and self-deprecating humor. As if whatever are the thoughts of an aged oblivious and naive clergyman matters a great deal to him.
With the same unprecedented vehemence, she had muttered to herself, " He's my father, you devil. And I love him." She shoved a leaf of lettuce into her mouth and continued, "And if you hurt him, I'll look for a way to harm you. Even if it takes the rest of my life."
At this point, Min-hee was unaware that her last statement was almost distinct because Reverend Dae-hyun turned to her immediately with a concerned look, " What will take the rest of your life, Jagiya?"
"Huh," she asked, confused.
"Did you say something?" He asked again.
"Emm no. It was a children's poem I was reciting," she lied.
"Oh okay," Reverend Dae-hyun accepted. Turning to Ki Woong, " So, Woong, why did you venture into entertainment?" He asked thoughtfully.
"I . . . emmm . . . T— Took over The Ki and Kong's label from my father," Ki Woong stuttered and then took a long swig of wine.
Min-hee smiled inwardly. Happy that her father had finally asked questions that are important. Questions one should ask when they meet a new person who looks perfect.
But she was more cheery, seeing that their guest wasn't expecting that line of questioning. And hence, he didn't prepare for it.
"Okay. It's actually a very long story but let me cut it short," ki Woong said, smiling.
"Alright, I'm all ears. We're all ears, " replied Reverend Dae-hyun.
"My father started the label with a close friend, things went south and the company sank. I was fresh out of university, didn't have much to do so I took it upon myself to restore the company." He touched the beads on his left hand and continued, " I worked with my friends and here I am today."
"Nice story," Min-hee said sarcastically. "So, what part did you leave out?"
"Jagiya?" Reverend Dae-hyun called out.
"Papa?"
"Do you know the story more than him ?"
Fixing her eyes back to their guest, " I apologize. I just thought you would have indulged us more," she said.
"I understand," Ki Woong said, smiling. "In due time, you will know more."
The fact he didn't say more about his family, career and himself, made Min-hee to see it as a caution, and to perceive him as untrustworthy.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And she's a good cook too . . .
He had never been a lover of meat but the food was a delight.
He ate and complimented, wondering what other surprises his goddess had in store for him.
He loved the way she paid attention to him, it helped him talk more even though he wasn't much of a talker.
How could he possibly tell her that he didn't have a childhood growing up? Giving out details about his family's life and business history was intractable and he wouldn't want any detail he would give out to be misunderstood and thus, send the wrong impression about him and his family.
She was angry and he completely understood. But, he loved the way she charged at him. Not minding who he was.
"Feisty," he had said to himself as she apologized. His eyes had narrowed in admiration to the part her lips pouted.
And when the tip of her falling hair brushed his face as she bent beside him to pick up his bowls, he smelled it.
The bewitching scent grasped onto his throat as he pondered on what it was. A familiar aroma. Realizing that it was citrus and sauce, a wave of relief danced through him. Disappointed as he was when she stood up, he remained grateful. It was an alluring scent, he could barely complain.
Why did her hair smell like that, anyway? Perhaps, it was because she was in the kitchen and had made the food.
He wanted to reach out just to sink his head into her neck and remain there. To forget who he was before and to be hers now.
Was he under a spell?
He watched closely as she reached out to pack the remaining plates and then . . . Her shirt's top button snapped open, only Ki Woong noticed.
But to his disappointment, he couldn't see a damn thing.
The breasts he had once seen bare, wouldn't give him another chance.
And when she moved past him, her hips slowly brushed his left shoulder. His heart erupted, persuading him to lean forward. To lean on his goddess and remain there forever . . .