A Glass of Whiskey
I had been going soft and unfocused when I suddenly set my face, and for a moment Yeonsu looked startled—but age, experience, and years of navigating the world snapped her back almost at once. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, a smile touching the corners of her mouth.
"You're different, after all. Most men your age couldn't manage this. You're a long way from ordinary."
No. My stomach was burning. I gave nothing away and simply watched her face. Yeonsu studied me a moment, then rose and opened the door I had come through. She said something to the staff waiting outside, and they all vanished. Once she was sure they were gone, she shut the door and sat down beside me again.
"I didn't ask to see you today because I wanted an answer, Jisin-nim."
Her expression had turned grave. She poured her own glass, drained it in one swallow, and reached for the bottle again—I took it from her and filled her cup myself. She kept her head bowed. I waited, patient, for her to begin.
Yeonsu struggled to find the words. I had seen it before: this woman wrapped herself in a hard shell, but inside she was soft, almost fragile. I wondered whether anyone but me had ever been shown that tender core. That was surely why she had come looking for me.
I took the hand resting on her skirt. It was ice-cold. Yeonsu lifted her head. Her face was heavy.
"Talk to me. I may not have the power to fix whatever's wrong, but I can listen. You came to me because that's what you needed. It means you're lonely. It means it's hard."
My voice was low and gentle. A faint smile rose to her lips.
"You're right. That day… the first day I met you, Jisin-nim, you disarmed me completely. The years I'd spent living as a grown woman suddenly meant nothing. You have a way of making people lean on you. So whenever something became too much, the first things that came to mind were Cheonsiman-gyo and you. But I still couldn't throw away my pride. I put on a strong face and invited you here like this."
I nodded, watching her. She was roughly Myeongsuk's age, yet utterly different. She carried a far more mature presence. Myeongsuk sometimes gave the impression of someone who had grasped every law of the world, yet when she sank deep into my arms she could still feel like someone my own age.
After Myeongsuk, I felt no resistance toward women older than me. If anything, I was starting to prefer them. Still seated, I edged a little closer to Yeonsu.
The human heart is a treacherous, wondrous thing. The moment I understood she was leaning on me psychologically, I began to think of her as a woman I could hold. And once that thought arrived, she started to look like a woman. I gave the hand I held a light tug; Yeonsu's upper body tipped toward me without resistance. I gathered her in. Heavy perfume and cosmetics filled my nose.
She rested against me without a struggle. After a moment she exhaled a long sigh, and I smelled liquor on her breath. The traditional wine was quietly potent; I wondered if she was already drunk. In a small voice she said,
"Shall we go somewhere? There's a place I go sometimes…"
Sometimes? A place a woman took a man was almost certainly a hotel or something like it—and she went there often? The thought sat strangely with me, but I took her by the shoulders, eased her back, and looked at her face. Her cheeks had turned faintly pink; she stared straight at me. Behind her glasses, her eyes looked a little glazed. I smiled and nodded. Yeonsu returned one of her signature cold smiles, rose, phone already in hand, and walked out first. I stood slowly and followed.
We crossed the restaurant's darkened garden to the main building, where the car I had arrived in was waiting. Yeonsu went ahead and stood by the front of it. Once we were inside, the car pulled away smoothly. The moment we were moving she rested her head against my shoulder. We held each other's hands tightly all the way to the destination; she never shifted once.
We arrived at a hotel on the outskirts of Seoul. Famous enough that I knew the name, though of course I had never been. The car stopped at the entrance; a bellboy opened the door. Yeonsu and I stepped out and went inside. We took the elevator to the top floor. The place she led me to was a members-only whiskey bar.
Someone had clearly called ahead—an immaculately dressed female attendant guided us to a private room. Unlike the rooms people usually picture at hostess clubs, one wall was a window looking out over the city, with a large sofa and a small bar off to the side. It was very dark; the lights of Seoul lay spread out below. Yeonsu sat beside me and offered an official sort of smile.
"Truthfully, the alcohol wore off a little. Once it did, I wanted something with a better aroma, so I brought us here. I'm sorry for deciding on my own."
It was entirely in character. Whatever the situation, she took the lead—a classic leader type. I had no particular reason to refuse, so I simply smiled. After a moment, a liquor I had never seen before was served, along with a few simple snacks. The attendant left, and a very young, very pretty woman in an extremely short miniskirt came in and took her place behind the little bar. Yeonsu waved her out with a flick of her hand.
"These rooms are special—each one gets its own bartender. But tonight I don't want another beautiful woman in the same room, distracting Jisin-nim's eyes."
I kept a kindly smile on my face, though inside I was thoroughly disappointed. I licked my lips thinking of the black stockings and firm thighs of the woman who had just left.
We drank several glasses of a fiercely aromatic whiskey neat. It was truly excellent liquor; heat rose through my body almost at once. Yeonsu seemed the same—her cheeks, which had started to clear, flushed again. Before my head grew any cloudier I needed to hear what she had to say, so I shifted closer.
Watching me settle nearer, Yeonsu gave a subtle smile.
"I have a husband. And a child. Is that all right with you? I'm older, too…"
I let out a short laugh. She seemed to be under some kind of misunderstanding. I set down my glass.
"I think there's been a misunderstanding—"
While I was still speaking, Yeonsu threw her arms around my neck. The whole scene felt familiar. Déjà vu? I was still registering mild surprise when her voice brushed my ear.
"Yes. This feeling. It was like this last time too. The whole reason I arranged dinner tonight was because I was pulled by this feeling…"
What was she talking about? I took her arms and eased her off me—not unkindly. Her breathing had grown heavy; alcohol rode every breath.
"Wait. The reason I came out tonight—"
Yeonsu stood abruptly and pulled me up by the arm. I rose as she wanted. She hooked her handbag over her arm, slipped her other arm through mine, and opened the door. The club itself was so dark that no one else's gaze registered. Without a word she steered me toward the exit; the woman stationed there bowed at a perfect ninety degrees. There was no bill. Right—members only. Damn it. I'd barely gotten a single drink…
Outside the bar, still linked arm in arm, Yeonsu pressed the elevator button and took us down one floor. I looked at her with a silent huh? She wouldn't meet my eyes; her expression looked almost angry. It was not a face that invited conversation.
The elevator opened and we stepped out onto a guest floor. Yeonsu walked the corridor as if she owned the place, pulling me along. She stopped at a door, dug a key card from her bag, and unlocked it. We went in.
The room was extravagantly luxurious. Not quite a penthouse, but clearly one of the finest suites. Yeonsu tossed her bag onto the sofa, took off her glasses, and turned to face me.
"When I have dinner or drinks with middle-aged men I meet through business, some of them look at me with those sly eyes. I'm not young, and I've been around long enough—do you think I don't know what they want?"
As she spoke she undid the neat knot of her hair. Soft waves spilled down; it was longer than I had expected.