Desperate for a Catch (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 9

When she opened her eyes, there was a message from Seo Ji Woo. She hadn’t read it carefully—too busy fixing her makeup and hastily straightening her disheveled clothes.

Still, she’d grasped the gist of it.

[Woo Yeon, aren’t you still seeing Managing Director Kim Min Joon? I don’t know how this’ll sound, but I heard something strange this afternoon. Please call me.]

Strange news?

Was he getting married? Considering his age, Kim Min Joon’s family probably had long been trying to match him with a woman from a good background.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t even told Seo Ji Woo that she and Kim Min Joon had broken up. It wasn’t that she’d deliberately hidden it.

She’d simply been too overwhelmed lately, and there hadn’t really been a right moment to bring it up. Besides, breaking up with him hadn’t been a big deal in Yoon Woo Yeon’s life.

Someone might think she was being too casual about a man she’d dated for two years, but for her, at least romance had to be as light as a feather.

She disliked floundering in love games, and she hated staking her life on something impermanent.

It was one of the desires she’d deliberately cut away from herself.

Yoon Woo Yeon loved no one.

[Anchor Yoon, are we heading out together?]

This new message was from Director Song. Woo Yeon quickly replied that she’d be leaving separately.

She drove herself to an upscale Japanese restaurant near Jamsil Station.

There was only one reason she respected Director Song while utterly despising the Head of Division:

He often summoned people like this and created all sorts of awkward situations.

Last time, he’d introduced her to the son of a chaebol family; a few months ago, right after she’d first taken on the news sider role, he’d pushed her to meet the former Prosecutor General’s son.

She’d repeatedly explained how uncomfortable these setups made her, despite her gratitude for his thoughtfulness, but the Head of Division was stubbornly insistent.

In fact, he’d even gotten angry, complaining, “Do you even know how hard I’ve been working behind the scenes to get you a good marriage?”—forcing her to borrow Director Song’s influence just to calm him down, which had worn her out completely.

If she claimed to be seeing someone, given the Head of Division’s persistent nature, she could easily imagine how thoroughly he’d grill every staffer in the newsroom.

“Whew.”

With a quiet sigh, she carefully opened the door to the room number Director Song had given her.

She’d just resolved firmly that today, she’d endure his speech through two stanzas at most and absolutely escape by the third—

when she saw three familiar silhouettes inside.

The Head of Division, large-framed and wearing thick glasses.

Director Song, lean and sharp-eyed, a former anchor himself.

And Cha Tae Kyung, whose presence outshone everyone else’s.

Her gaze passed over the two men and locked solely onto Tae Kyung.

She gave him a look that asked, “What are you doing here?”—but he just calmly sipped his tea.

Reluctantly, Woo Yeon greeted them.

“I’m late.”

The Head of Division waved dismissively, gesturing for her to sit down immediately.

“No, no. I know Anchor Yoon always keeps her appointments punctually. You’re right on time! See? Didn’t I tell you she’d never be late?”

He spoke warmly to Tae Kyung, as if they were already well-acquainted. Woo Yeon bowed slightly and took the empty seat opposite Director Song and the Head of Division, who chuckled heartily.

As she settled onto the cushion, Tae Kyung’s eyes met hers. Just that glance sent an electric jolt through her—as if his skin had brushed against hers.

What had his kiss felt like again?

Even without saying a word, the excitement instantly returned.

The pressure of his fingers on her nape, the sensation of his hand threading through her hair, the vivid softness and sweetness when their lips met and they’d breathed each other in—

flashed through her mind like a painting.

She’d tried rationalizing it—saying it was just the mood, or that she’d been slightly giddy that day—but knowing it wouldn’t really change anything made her smile faintly.

“We keep running into each other.”

It was her first greeting to him. She hoped Tae Kyung could sense the coldness and dryness in her voice.

Instead of replying, he casually took off his jacket and handed it to her.

Though it was a polite gesture meant to cover her legs, it still made her uncomfortable. She’d intended to refuse.

Before the words could even leave her lips, Tae Kyung leaned close and whispered low into her ear,

“Just cover yourself with it.”

I can’t very well stare at your legs the whole meal.

He didn’t say those exact words, but that’s exactly how it felt. Woo Yeon pressed her lips together tightly and draped his jacket over her legs.

The table was already fully set—fresh sashimi and various side dishes neatly arranged.

Among all those dishes, Woo Yeon reached only for her water glass. When she took a sip, she tasted chrysanthemum.

Ah—it was chrysanthemum tea.

“Ever since CEO Cha appeared on our broadcast, our ratings have skyrocketed, right? I told her I’d treat her to a meal out of gratitude. Given how picky and aloof she seemed, I expected her to refuse—but she agreed so readily that I went ahead and invited you too, Anchor Yoon.”

On days like this, she felt like cheap merchandise laid out in a market stall.

The Head of Division used her name to expand his network, always putting on a false mask of friendliness.

“As you well know, news isn’t something one person can create alone. It needs people pushing from behind and pulling hard from the front to gain momentum. I push, Director Song pulls, and Anchor Yoon—well, you complete the picture.”

He gestured toward her face as if it perfectly embodied what he meant. Throughout his boisterous monologue, Woo Yeon hadn’t touched a single piece of fish—only her chrysanthemum tea.

“Anyway, I’m really glad someone like you showed up so willingly. These days, even third-generation chaebol heirs are all busy claiming they’ll run for president or something. And guess who covered all that? Our very own UBC Broadcasting!”

Clearly, the Head of Division was quite taken with Tae Kyung. Judging by his tone, he seemed pleased by Tae Kyung’s unexpectedly compliant attitude.

He wasn’t being subtle—he laid his true intentions bare. Honestly, Woo Yeon hated this side of him.

“I especially care about our Anchor Yoon, you see. Whenever there’s a good man available, I get the itch to set her up. Even if CEO Cha had caught your eye that day, knowing your personality, you’d never say anything privately about it. That’s exactly why us old folks have to step in and arrange these meetings. Right, Director Song?”

For a brief moment, Woo Yeon’s eyes met Director Song’s. Seeing her frown, he gave an awkward smile and replied,

“Well, that’s true—but do you really think Anchor Yoon’s heart would sway just because some elders stepped in? Of all people, she’s got the steadfastness of a pine tree. No matter how hard you shake the branches, not a single pine needle would fall.”

“Heh heh. If you don’t know her, you really miss out. Why do you think Anchor Yoon does this job? Sure, it sounds noble—justice in journalism, pride in the profession—but deep down, female announcers’ thoughts are all pretty much the same.”

“…”

“Look at Anchor Yoon’s face! She’s screaming with joy inside! Where else can you find a man like CEO Cha these days? Even as another man, I can see he’s got a striking face, tall stature, and clearly an impressive build, too. And isn’t he about to inherit Myeong San soon? Honestly, Anchor Yoon should feel deeply grateful.”

All those people I introduced her to before were perfectly decent, yet she rejected every single one.

He shot Woo Yeon a subtle, sideways glance.

Her face, which had been silently listening until now, crumpled visibly.

It was always like this.

The Head of Division loved cutting and guessing other people’s feelings however he pleased.

For heaven’s sake, I’ll find my own man—please just worry about your own affairs, Head of Division.

Just as Woo Yeon opened her mouth to say something, her eyes met Director Song’s.

He was about to cut off the Head of Division’s rudeness on her behalf.

But Tae Kyung spoke half a beat faster.

“I think you’re mistaken, Head of Division.”

“Huh?”

“It’s me who’s silently screaming with joy—not her.”

All three pairs of eyes instantly turned to Tae Kyung. Calmly, he added,

“I’ve been wondering how I could see her again—looks like the whole universe is helping me out.”

While Director Song’s eyes widened in surprise, the Head of Division burst into loud laughter.

“Hahahaha! I didn’t take you for the type, but you’re refreshingly honest! So that’s why you instantly said yes when I offered to treat you to dinner—this guy! Hahaha! After all, any man who doesn’t set his sights on Anchor Yoon isn’t a real man.”

From that point on, it became the part of the evening Woo Yeon dreaded most. Whether his intentions were good or not didn’t matter.

He always inevitably steered the conversation toward her unfortunate family history around this point.

He’d recount how she’d lost her parents at a young age, leaving only her grandmother—and then, two years ago, even her grandmother had passed, leaving Anchor Yoon utterly alone in the world.

It was his gossip session, completely disregarding how the person actually felt.

“Back then, even though I told Anchor Yoon repeatedly to take a rest, she insisted on working. Her face was half-swollen from handling the funeral alone, yet she didn’t take a single day off. In the end, she collapsed right before going live on air—forced us to call 119! Total chaos!”

No matter how slowly she chewed, she doubted she could eat even half her meal.

Maybe she should just faint instead.

She’d joked to Woo Sik about filing a lawsuit, but now she seriously considered taking real action soon.

Near the end of the meal, Tae Kyung turned to the Head of Division and said,

“If you’re finished eating, I’d like to leave first.”

The Head of Division, who’d been gleefully chattering about Woo Yeon’s private life, stared blankly at Tae Kyung for interrupting him.

Flustered, he stammered,

“Wh-what? You’re leaving already?”

Noticing his disappointed look, Tae Kyung turned toward Woo Yeon.

“If it’s not too much trouble, I’d also like to take Anchor Yoon with me—is that alright?”

Only then did the Head of Division seem to grasp the situation, nodding with clear satisfaction—effectively giving permission for Tae Kyung to take her anytime.

Woo Yeon exchanged a glance with Director Song. He, too, gave her a look urging her to leave quickly—

clearly implying there was nothing good left to hear if she stayed.

She wasn’t unaware how foolish it was to follow a man who’d just been rejected days ago.

But right now, she had to choose.

Enduring his full four-stanza tragedy about her misfortune would be far worse than going with this man.

Without hesitation, Woo Yeon hurried out after Tae Kyung. As she put on her shoes outside, she reached to return his jacket,

determined to give it back and get away from here as soon as possible.

“…CEO, your jacket.”

Her voice wasn’t that quiet—but he didn’t answer.

While she’d been focused on her shoes, he’d already strode toward the entrance.

His steps were so wide and fast, she feared she’d lose him instantly if she delayed any longer.

Woo Yeon quickened her pace.

She’d been worried he might leave first—what would she do with his jacket then?—but luckily, he was waiting by the elevator.