The words slipped from Ji-woo’s lips before she could stop them. “You can’t.”
Just then, Seo Tae-joon stepped into the room, and her train of thought shattered. Ji-woo’s heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic rhythm of guilt, as if she’d been caught in a forbidden act. Seo Tae-joon’s gaze settled on her, sharp and searching, as he closed the distance between them.
At the sight of him, Joo Dong-mi’s eyes lit up with predatory glee. “Perfect timing!” she greeted with a wide smile. “You’re just the man I wanted to see.”
Seo Tae-joon spared her a brief, dismissive glance before his attention returned fully to Ji-woo, all of Joo Dong-mi’s enthusiasm sliding off him like water.
“Why are you out of bed?” he asked, his voice low. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
When she didn't answer, he shrugged off his cardigan and draped it over her shoulders. His warm palm slid over the nape of her neck, a possessive, familiar heat that spoke of intimacies she was trying desperately to ignore. Ji-woo instinctively straightened her spine, pushing the unwelcome thoughts away.
“Ji-woo,” Seo Tae-joon repeated, his touch lingering. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.” Ji-woo shook her head, finally looking up at Joo Dong-mi. “She has a question for you.”
Grinning, Joo Dong-mi produced a business card from her bag and held it out. “Let me introduce myself properly,” she said. “I’m Joo Dong-mi from the Wildlife Rescue Center’s Mammal Team.” Her smile was fixed on Seo Tae-joon. “And I’m here to scout you.”
Ji-woo’s eyes widened. When she saw that Seo Tae-joon hadn't made a move, she nudged him in the side, gesturing for him to take the card.
But he was lost in his own world, his gaze distant, tracking the slow drift of autumn leaves outside the window.
Unfazed, Joo Dong-mi kept her smile plastered in place. “I tried to approach him at the party,” she explained to Ji-woo, “but he wasn’t exactly receptive.”
She remembered that night clearly: the complete and utter way he had ignored her. Seo Tae-joon hadn’t taken his eyes off Ji-woo the entire time, his focus so intense it was as if he were trying to memorize the number of her eyelashes. It had irked Joo Dong-mi more than she cared to admit.
She forced the memory aside. “Your stamina, your reflexes, that creative thinking,” she continued, ticking the points off in her head. “I want it all for my team.”
It was true. Initially, she’d been interested in him for herself, but Joo Dong-mi never had a habit of hanging on to one man for long. And this man, Seo Tae-joon, was clearly already hanging on to the small woman beside him with a fierce single-mindedness.
He had the tenacity of a mastiff that had locked its jaws on something precious, refusing to let go. His entire focus was so narrowed on Ji-woo that the mere thought of diverting his attention seemed like it would actively aggravate him.
Working with animals had taught Joo Dong-mi to trust her instincts over her intellect. It was that gut feeling that fed her ambition, that had driven her to become the youngest member of the team at twenty-four.
The biggest problem on Cheongdo was the lack of manpower. The island was a rugged expanse of mountains and wildlife, and handling it required a certain kind of physical strength. A young, unemployed man with his abilities was a resource that simply couldn’t be wasted.
While other employees at the center were passively searching for a successor, Joo Dong-mi was the only one hunting for one.
“We normally require some basic education or a license, but I can help you with all of that, of course,” Joo Dong-mi said, pressing on. “You’ll just need to follow instructions and carry an axe or a stake when needed. I, your senior, will take care of the rest.”
It was obvious Seo Tae-joon wasn’t listening, so Joo Dong-mi changed her strategy, turning to Ji-woo to exploit the dynamic between the two.
“Ji-woo, what do you find attractive in a man?” she asked.
“Me?” Ji-woo blinked, caught off guard.
“Yes,” Joo Dong-mi said with a knowing smile. “Men who are good with their family are the trend these days, aren’t they? But a family man still has to work.”
Ji-woo nodded slowly. “That’s true.”
Joo Dong-mi pressed her advantage. “And he’d have to earn his money legally, right?”
“Of course,” Ji-woo agreed.
“Then,” Joo Dong-mi concluded, her voice laced with implication, “wouldn’t you want a man who can handle responsibility and do good for the community? A man with a proper job?”
Ji-woo’s eyes widened as the trap snapped shut. At the same moment, Seo Tae-joon’s distant expression vanished. He turned from Ji-woo, his gaze fixing on Joo Dong-mi with a chilling sharpness.
Can I really treat him like a junior? Under that stare, Joo Dong-mi felt a tremor of doubt. She had no idea how she could ever manage this man as her subordinate, but she had to see this through. Her ambition demanded it.
“A man who is good at night is all well and good,” Joo Dong-mi said, forcing her voice to remain steady. “But a man who is great during the day is the one who earns his wife’s respect.”
Before Seo Tae-joon could even react, Ji-woo’s expression hardened. “But Seo Tae-joon is sick,” she said, her tone firm. “If he runs around too much or lifts heavy things, it would be dangerous.” She glanced at the man beside her, her voice softening with concern. “He won’t be able to recover.”