This Burns My Heart Page 0,97

like this, with all the pieces next to one another. Both Min and Miss Hong looked at her like small children, sheepishly.

“Please don’t keep Miss Hong away from her duties. She has better things to do than to entertain you,” Soo-Ja said to Min, coolly, before turning to Miss Hong and telling her to watch the front desk in her absence.

When Soo-Ja turned the corner, into the hallway, her mask of confidence slipped, and she felt her anger rise to the surface. It was one thing to know in her head, and something else entirely to catch them together like that. She took a deep breath and fought back her tears.

So they really were sleeping together.

Soo-Ja felt humiliated. Had Min done this to get back at her? And to get back at her for what, exactly? Soo-Ja wondered. She supported him financially, gave him money for alcohol and cigarettes. She knew they didn’t make love very often—Soo-Ja was terrified of getting pregnant—but if he were to have an affair, did he have to choose someone so close at hand?

As Soo-Ja walked back to the front desk, she tried to put on her best smile and pretend nothing had happened. She wanted to be fun and light, and entertain Jae-Hwa on her only day with her in years. And she didn’t want Jae-Hwa to lend her the money because she felt sorry for her.

But when Soo-Ja got back to the front desk, she could feel her face drop with disappointment, and an ominous feeling came over her. Jae-Hwa was talking in an animated manner with, of all people, Eun-Mee. They were holding each other’s hands like old friends, though she knew they must have just met, and their heads were thrown back in raucous laughter. When they saw Soo-Ja, they looked almost sorry to be interrupted.

“Soo-Ja, I didn’t know you had such charming friends here in Seoul! The wife of a doctor!” Jae-Hwa exclaimed, impressed.

“And you, the wife of a manufacturer!” echoed back Eun-Mee, the two of them establishing an instant sorority.

“And I, the wife of—” Soo-Ja trailed off, smiling sardonically.

Jae-Hwa looked at her, a little embarrassed, while Eun-Mee seemed to be not at all sorry. Soo-Ja reached for her coat and her purse. “Are you ready, Jae-Hwa?”

“Yes. And oh, by the way, do you mind if Eun-Mee comes with us? She said she loves coffeehouses!” said Jae-Hwa.

Soo-Ja was amazed that the two could strike up a friendship so quickly; once again, she had underestimated Eun-Mee’s charm. She was like a mugger with a gun, but instead of your wallet, she wanted your affection, and she could get you to drop it in front of her in seconds.

“Eun-Mee, could I please speak to you in private for a moment?” asked Soo-Ja.

Eun-Mee made buggy eyes at Jae-Hwa, to signal her puzzlement, before following Soo-Ja into her office. Once in there, Eun-Mee smiled at Soo-Ja coquettishly, like a bad student trying to avoid her teacher’s dressing-down.

“This is not just a friendly outing. I have things to discuss with Jae-Hwa,” said Soo-Ja, hoping to reason with her.

Eun-Mee nodded slightly. “Does this have anything to do with the rumor that you’re trying to buy land from Gi-yong Im?” asked Eun-Mee innocently.

Soo-Ja tried to hide her surprise. How did Eun-Mee know about that? Had she listened in on one of her phone calls?

“Your friend doesn’t seem like the kind who likes risky investments, though,” Eun-Mee continued.

“How did you hear about—”

“Oh, I don’t care. I’m just bored, and desperate for social activity,” Eun-Mee interrupted. “I promise to take long powder-room breaks at the coffeehouse, in order to give you ample time to bore Jae-Hwa with your plans.”

“Eun-Mee!” called out Soo-Ja behind her, trying to stop her. But it was useless. Eun-Mee had already sauntered out of the office and rejoined Jae-Hwa in the lobby.

Jae-Hwa rushed toward them. “Are we ready? I’m feeling left out! And you’re all right with Eun-Mee coming, of course?”

Soo-Ja could tell from Jae-Hwa’s eager eyes that she could not refuse, and if she tried to, Jae-Hwa would bring Eun-Mee anyway.

Soo-Ja was not much of a coffee drinker, nor was she a great fan of tea, though she drank yulmucha, boricha, and ginseng tea sometimes. She liked yulmucha for its thickness—it reminded her of soup, and when she drank it, she enjoyed its warmth tickling her throat. Boricha looked a bit like dirty water, which she sometimes suspected it was—it barely tasted like anything. But if she couldn’t sleep, it was what she turned