An Accidental Intentional Accident — 2
I picked up the essentials from the male staffer. For an executive secretary, he knew the in-house secretary’s entire workload cold—clearly this sort of thing happened often. And as I learned the job, I realized the president was even stranger than I’d first thought.
He frequently didn’t show up until after lunch, and more often than not he didn’t come in at all. That much I could live with. Lazy boss; end of story. But the rumors about him, and the impression I’d gotten on day one, started to feel like understatement. The way he looked at me grew more blatant by the hour.
Yes. Exactly like a snake deciding how best to swallow its prey—he was thinking of nothing but how to get me into bed.
Even now, while I was wiping the windows, he came over and smacked my ass with a folder of approval documents.
“Take these over.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Whatever. I took the folder and turned back to the glass.
“Even the way you work is pretty. God… Yeeun.”
He leaned his waist back like he was framing a shot, shifting this way and that.
“I know a place that does killer sushi. Let me treat you sometime.”
“I still have work left, so perhaps another time, please.”
“Ah, come on. How long are you going to keep brushing me off?”
All I wanted to do was sigh, but I couldn’t let it show.
“It’s because of the work. I’d appreciate it if you understood, sir.”
“Ha… even when I’m offering to pay, she turns me down.”
He shrugged and took his suit jacket off the hanger.
“Fine. Next time, then. But think about what you want to eat.”
With this type, flat refusal only made things worse. You had to manage the tempo.
“Understood, sir.”
He’d been sulking like a spoiled kid; now he seemed satisfied and opened the office door.
“See you tomorrow.”
Long after it closed, I kept polishing the glass. Only when I was sure he wasn’t coming back did I stop.
Beyond the window the city sprawled out, and below, a yellow sports car was pulling out of the hotel.
No question—he was off hunting women in that thing.
“Hah… the bastard could clean his own damn office.”
I dropped into the president’s chair and looked around. With how often he made me scrub the place, the office was spotless. What grated more than the cleaning, though, was the man himself—watching me like a voyeur. That sticky gaze of his; I could feel exactly where his eyes landed.
Being a woman is such a pain in the ass.
When I was a man, I’d thought being a woman was pretty sweet, socially speaking. Society treated looking after women as good manners, and the prettier you were, the more people went out of their way for you. That had lined up perfectly with my goal of an easy life, so I’d assumed it was pure upside. Then I actually became a woman, and men started circling in direct proportion to how pretty I was—especially the ones like this boss, who didn’t even bother to hide it.
“Time to clock out. Clock. Out.”
I muttered it like a self-hypnosis and stood. The approval folder could wait until tomorrow; I’d drop it off when I came in.
The second I opened the door to my place, I shed my suit jacket like a snake’s skin. From the subspace I kept stocked like a refrigerator, I pulled a cold can of beer.
“Ahh…”
I dropped the blinds, stripped down to my panties, and let myself settle back into my succubus form while I checked the mail.
Something similar had arrived a few days ago. Now another one. Last time it had said a disciplinary committee would be convened regarding expulsion if I attended school; this one informed me the expulsion had already been processed, and if I had any objections I should file for review with the Seoul Student Disciplinary Mediation Committee. I had zero interest in a review.
Schooling had only ever been a means to get a job. I didn’t need it now.
I drained the half-finished beer, scratched an itch on my rear with my tail, and tied back the hair that spilled past my wingbones.
Prep done. Now I planned to lie down like this and not get up.
This body neither gained nor lost weight, so I didn’t have to maintain a figure, and I’d already burned through every hobby like gaming in my previous life—no urge left there either. What remained was streaming dramas and movies on a secondhand laptop.
I propped the laptop upright to match my sideways gaze and watched until, at some point, I fell asleep.
Then the phone alarm went off.
Beep-beep-beep… beep-beep-beep…
I shut off the pager-like chirping, sat up, and yawned long and hard.
I had to go to work. I didn’t want to. But if I wanted to eat, I had to.
Another yawn, and I pulled the hair tie free. Then I hid the succubus traits and headed for the bathroom. A quick shower, dried my hair, the usual morning routine. Suit on, I checked myself in the mirror.
Long lashes and deep-set eyes already looked made-up; I felt no need for cosmetics. Didn’t know how, either.
Outside, overnight snow lay in a soft layer. I barely felt heat or cold anymore, but I buttoned my coat to match everyone else’s and set off for the hotel.
I unlocked the president’s office—locked when I’d left the day before—opened a window for air, and thought through the day’s work. Aside from returning the approval folders to each department, nothing came to mind.
A secretary was supposed to support the president’s schedule. But this one barely came in, almost no one wanted to meet him, external visitors were rare, and the executive meetings that should have been frequent were limited to the monthly regular session. If he’d been competent, a secretary’s job would have been busy. Because he was lazy and useless, there was nothing to do.
The entire morning amounted to a few calls from managers and the general manager asking whether the president had come in.
I’m bored…
Whenever I went to other departments to return folders, the female staff had looked busy browsing clothing sites. Right now I felt like I should be doing the same. But just as people who’ve eaten meat eat more of it, it was hard to blatantly slack off during what I still thought of as work hours.
I killed time reading internet news until lunch approached. I forwarded the phones and stood. No need to guard an empty president’s office through lunch. The moment I rose, my phone rang.
“You’ve reached the office. This is Lee Yeeun, secretary.”
An enraged middle-aged man’s voice came through. I knew that voice.
“Where the hell is that little bastard!?”
“He’s stepped out for a lunch appointment. Shall I leave word that you called, Father?”
“Tell him to call me right now!”
“Understood. Is there anything el—”
He hung up without another word. I confirmed the line was dead and let out a long breath.
This happened maybe twice a month. Judging by the tone, he’d gone out last night to mess with women and caused trouble.
I dialed the field secretary on my phone.
“Seok-ho, are you at the president’s place?”
A deep sigh came through the speaker.
“Hah… Yes. He’s passed out cold and shows no sign of getting up.”
“How much did he drink last night?”
“Not sure, but a lot.”
“His father just called, and he was furious. I told him the president was out for a lunch appointment. When he wakes up, he really needs to call right away.”
“Understood.”
I hung up, but I didn’t expect the president to actually call. His relationship with his parents was rotten. As long as the fallout didn’t land on me, I was fine.
The president didn’t come in until the next day—and past lunch at that. The field secretary sat at the desk beside mine, drinking coffee with an exhausted face. With nothing else to do, I had coffee with him.
“Did the president call last night?”
“No. The assemblyman came to the house himself.”
“That must’ve been loud.”
He only smiled weakly.
“Seok-ho, why do you stay under him when it costs you this much?”
“The chairman assigned me. I’m not here because I want to be.”
“…”
Looking at him, I saw my old self. The kind of man who carried a resignation letter in his inner pocket and still couldn’t bring himself to hand it over, day after day.
“Hang in there. You’ll get something back for this someday.”
“Hearing that from you actually makes me feel a little better, Miss Yeeun.”
He was right around the age I’d been in my previous life. Married, the age when a kid would be toddling after you.
“This is a present for the baby.”
I took a pair of infant mittens from the desk drawer.
“You even got a gift… thank you.”
A natural smile spread across his face, as if he were already picturing the child wearing them.
“Show me the pictures later—the ones of the baby playing in the mittens.”
“I will. I’ll take a bunch and show you.”
He tucked the mittens into the pocket of the coat on the hanger, looking genuinely happy. The shadow on his face had finally thinned.
“I meant to mention this and forgot. The chairman is attending this month’s regular meeting.”
This place was a reasonably large hotel, a cut above average—but within the group it was still more of a mass-market line. The chairman showing up here was odd.
“The chairman?”
“Yes. He comes once or twice a year. Mostly to see the president’s face while he’s at it.”
“So he still looks after his grandson, then.”
“This time it’s probably the opposite. The day before yesterday he had to step in and clean up a mess.”
At this point I was curious what kind of mess warranted that.
“What happened the day before?”
He hesitated, then lowered his voice.
“I’d rather not go into detail, but the police were called because of the president.”
I was pretty sure I already knew, but I needed to come at it sideways. He was clearly trying to talk around it because I was a woman.
“Assault?”
“No. Anyway… it wasn’t good.”
He didn’t say it outright, but the atmosphere filled in the rest. Not the everyday sedan—he’d gone out in that yellow sports car. Police for something that wasn’t assault. He couldn’t bring himself to say “women at a room salon” to someone who looked like a young woman. And in situations like this, the polite thing was to pretend you didn’t know.
“…I see.”