Cafe Daltteurak
It had been a little over a week since I started working part-time at the cafe.
By now, I could make every item on the menu. To be fair, the selection wasn't all that extensive to begin with.
"Mm~ Not bad at all. I think you're finally ready to graduate down the mountain."
"The machine pulls the espresso anyway, so does it really make that much of a difference?"
"Of course it does! Take lattes, for instance..."
The boss was dead serious about coffee. Then again, that was probably why she had opened an independent cafe in the first place.
Her passion was the sole reason I had surrendered my weekend to train under her. Having arrived without the slightest clue about cafe work, I had to learn everything from scratch, starting with how to operate the espresso machine. Now, it seemed I had finally met her exacting standards.
"Starting tomorrow, let's have you take orders and prepare drinks for real customers."
"Understood."
Right now, we were in the middle of a lull. It wasn't an officially scheduled break, but there was always a quiet pocket of time right before the lunch rush when foot traffic evaporated. Up until today, we had used this downtime almost exclusively for my training.
Cafe Daltteurak's primary clientele consisted of office workers. If you followed the alleyway past our front doors, you would find yourself in a dense business cluster packed with companies—ranging from small-scale media outlets and budding startups to sizable mid-tier corporations. Those who commuted by public transit naturally cut straight through our alley. Because of that, the morning rush was our most frantic period, flooded with employees grabbing their caffeine fix on the way to work. Lunchtime was nearly as hectic. The boss had clearly hired me because handling both the morning and lunch peaks on her own was simply too much to bear.
"From now on, we'll stick strictly to the hours outlined in your contract... It was an unreasonable favor to ask of you, so thank you for going along with it."
"Don't mention it. It was necessary anyway."
"Even so. Ah, and don't worry—I'll make sure to add a generous bonus to your paycheck for all those extra hours, including the weekend."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you."
Our agreement was for me to work weekdays from eight in the morning until three in the afternoon. Saturdays and Sundays were my scheduled days off, with last weekend being the sole exception for intensive training.
She was, without question, a good employer. Considering how completely ignorant I had been about barista work, anyone else would have found me terribly frustrating, yet she hadn't voiced a shred of annoyance while teaching me the ropes. In her demeanor toward me, there wasn't a trace of that exploitative mindset eager to wring out every drop of labor beyond what she paid for. On the contrary, she went out of her way to accommodate me and ensure I wasn't running myself ragged. If I were to put it uncharitably, she was almost too soft for her own good.
That generous attitude made me want to work all the harder. I made a point of arriving at the cafe fifteen minutes early every day, taking the initiative to handle basic chores like scrubbing down the counters and doing the dishes with thorough care. Because I tackled tasks according to my own fastidious standards, the boss often found herself having to hold me back, insisting I didn't need to go that far.
"So... is there anything you've noticed or felt while working here so far?"
"In what area specifically?"
"Just overall. Anything you think needs improving, or even personal grievances. Don't hold back—lay it all on me."
I had only been here for a week and change. Normally, one had to tread lightly when discussing such matters with their superior.
"Jeongseo, really, it's fine. Speak your mind candidly. I'll filter out what I need to."
"Alright. In that case, can I truly speak with complete honesty?"
"Of course! I'm not that petty, you know. Make yourself comfortable. Speak freely."
While the boss was genuinely devoted to the craft of coffee, there were plenty of areas where she was astonishingly haphazard—at least by my standards. Taking her at her word, I began to lay out everything I had observed.
"Wait, wait. Whew... Hold on, let me grab a notebook."
Had my initial points caught her off guard? With a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, she hurried into the back office and returned clutching a notebook. She then sat before me, listening intently and jotting down every word. It felt as though our roles had been completely reversed.
It appeared the boss was meticulous only when it came to things that held her immediate interest—namely, coffee and revenue. Because of that, my critiques focused heavily on everything else.
"I think having an operational manual would help a lot. For example, you've already preset the espresso extraction volume on the machine, but there should be set measurements for how much water to pour or how much ice to add."
"Mm... That makes sense. You're saying we should establish fixed formulas, like a franchise?"
"Yes. That way, whenever you hire a new part-timer, you won't have to personally test them like this every time. It saves you the trouble."
I didn't know how other cafes operated. She had told me to be candid, so I was simply speaking my mind. My honest impression from working here was that she was running the place purely by the seat of her pants.
"Huh? Are you already thinking about quitting?"
"No, that's not what I meant. But it's not as if I can work part-time here until the day I die, can I?"
"Chuckle. I'm teasing. So if I write down what I consider the optimal recipes and share them, that'll do?"
"Yes. And I'd also appreciate it if cups and containers had designated spots."
I moved on to my personal pet peeves. The boss had a habit of leaving things wherever her hands happened to drop them. The most frequently used plates, for instance, might be on the bottom shelf of a cabinet one day and on the top shelf the next.
"If every item is kept in its proper place, it's far easier to find things when it gets busy."
"That makes sense too... Wait a minute."
"Yes?"
"Isn't that just your personal quirk, Jeongseo? From what I've seen, you just naturally love organizing and tidying up. Am I right?"
I saw no reason to deny it, so I gave her a straight nod.
"It sounds a little exhausting, but... alright. Let's do that too."
"In that case, may I organize everything? Provided that you agree to use things according to the arrangement I set up."
"Look at you, getting bold! Well, fine... let's do it your way."
"Also, regarding the wiping cloths—I'd like us to color-code them so the ones used for wiping tables aren't mixed up with the ones used for parts that touch drinks."
"Right, of course. Naturally. You really came prepared today, didn't you? Go on, let it all out."
This was going splendidly. I proceeded to unload every little detail that had been grating on my nerves. At first, I had worried about crossing the line, but seeing that she wasn't offended in the slightest, I laid out the rest of my grievances without holding back.
"How on earth did you hold all this in until now?"
"It took a great deal of restraint. Truly."
"Oh, my... Did it really? You poor thing. From now on, Boss Jin will do her best to accommodate your high standards."
In contrast to the refreshing relief washing over me, the boss looked rather overwhelmed. She stared down at the notebook filled edge-to-edge with my notes, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Ah?"
Clatter, tap.
Deep in thought, she lost her grip on the pen she had been twirling, and it rolled off the counter, coming to a stop right against my shoe.
"I'll get it."
"Yeah, thanks."
I bent down beneath the table. Picking up the fallen pen, I glanced upward and caught sight of the space between her casually parted thighs. Flanking both sides of her underwear were the folded wings of an adhesive pad—something I hadn't noticed earlier.
"Jeongseo? What are you doing down there?"
"Nothing. Here you go."
"So, about offering bean choices... Do you really think it's better to stick with a default blend and only offer the alternative roast to customers who specifically ask for it?"
"Yes. That's my take. There are connoisseurs who care deeply about flavor profiles like you do, but most people seem to buy it purely for the caffeine."
While women in this world were comparatively indifferent about physical exposure, that didn't mean one had free rein to gawk at them. Regardless of whether someone was a man or a woman, having someone stare brazenly at your private areas was bound to be uncomfortable or offensive.
"Still, choosing the right beans is so crucial..."
"Anyone who truly cares about the beans will probably ask on their own, especially if we put up a neat little sign next to the register."
"Mmh... Fair enough. Let's try it that way for now. We'll use our most popular roast as the default base, and..."
Caught off guard by occasional glimpses of bare female flesh, my physical urges were constantly simmering near the surface. In truth, navigating this world was far more grueling than my previous life. And Jin Seohui wasn't making things any easier.
"Jeongseo... Jeongseo? Hello?"
"Ah. Forgive me, I got distracted for a second."
"What were you thinking about this time? Come on, tell me."
"About keeping stamp pads on hand. It might be useful to stock red ink pads for seals."
"Ah~ Giggle. People do ask for those quite a bit, don't they? Probably because of all the corporate offices nearby."
Even now, she was at it. Feeling an itch, the boss slipped a hand through her loosely unbuttoned shirt to scratch her shoulder. The movement pulled the fabric taut, laying bare the creamy slope of her upper chest. Her bra seemed to provide exceptional support, pushing her cleavage tightly together and leaving the plump, rounded swell of her bosom on prominent display.
"Should we set up a dedicated corner for signing contracts? We could probably just bring in a divider partition."
"That wouldn't be a bad idea. We could charge a modest usage fee as well."
"A fee? Hmm. Would people really pay for that?"
"Yes. People ask to borrow pens and notepads all the time too. Considering the cost of consumables, shouldn't we factor that into the price?"
"You're not wrong. Seriously, why are there so many bastards who just walk off with our pens? I'll give that some serious thought."
This wouldn't do. While the boss didn't stir intense emotional affection in me the way Yeo-eun noona did, she certainly knew how to push my physical buttons. Perhaps I should test the waters to see if she was open to being seduced as an outlet for my impulses.
"Ah, right. Are you free this evening by any chance?"
"I don't have any particular plans. Once I clock out, I usually just spend the rest of the day studying."
"Then how about we hold a little welcome dinner tonight? What do you say?"
Right as the thought crossed my mind, she handed me the perfect opportunity on a silver platter. An after-work dinner would naturally pave the way for us to become closer on a personal level.
"Well... Whew. Since you're a male employee, an invitation like this might feel a bit uncomfortable."
"Yes?"
"You're completely free to say no, so please don't misunderstand. I don't have any ulterior motives, really."
"I understand."
"How would you feel about having the welcome dinner at my place? Sorry to spring this on you so suddenly, but someone sent a gift set of premium Korean beef to my house."
She had never once tried to pull any inappropriate moves on me before. No matter how sexually assertive women were in this society, I had yet to encounter one who openly acted like a beast in heat out in public. Even so, there was no telling what ran through someone's mind behind closed doors. Had she been concealing lustful intentions all along?
"Ah! I don't live alone, by the way! My older sister and niece live with me. We all share the apartment."
"Boss."
"No, wait. Is that even more intimidating? Just forget I said anything. Let's just go to the restaurant next door and get something delicious there."
Realizing her own words might have sounded awkward, she hastily attempted to backtrack. My answer, however, had already been decided the moment the words left her mouth.
"Boss!"
"Huh?"
"Let's go to your place."
"Really?"
"Yes. You said it was Hanwoo, right? What cuts are they? Is it a proper gift set? 1++ grade?"
There were moments when appetite thoroughly trumped lust. From the second the word Hanwoo reached my ears, my head had already been nodding in vigorous, unequivocal agreement.