You Accepted the Contract (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 1

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The sky outside the car window began to glow orange as the sun started to set.

Si Yoon, with neatly combed hair and an unwrinkled white shirt, gripped the steering wheel with an expressionless face.

On the passenger seat lay his casually discarded jacket and bow tie, and beside them, his phone vibrated softly with a string of incoming messages.

Si Yoon glanced briefly at the phone he’d set down, then refocused on driving. If traffic didn’t get worse, he’d arrive right on time for the banquet.

He’d much rather avoid events like tonight’s party or social gatherings altogether, but with his return to Korea imminent, he figured he owed it to his acquaintances to pay his respects—so he’d made time.

When the traffic light turned red and his phone vibrated again, he picked it up and checked the messages.

His eyes fixed on the last one.

Si Yoon tapped the screen lightly to open the article, then placed the phone back on the passenger seat and returned his hands to the wheel.

The reporter focused the story on the feud within a private educational conglomerate. Hearing this, Si Yoon let out a faint, quiet laugh before quickly regaining his calm composure.

It was absurd how, in others’ eyes, his legal action to stop his uncle from selling his father’s final masterpiece at a cheap price was seen as nothing more than a shameless squabble over money.

Since the lawsuit was filed by Si Yoon personally and had nothing to do with the university foundation, there was naturally no “official stance” for the institution to take.

Only after the broadcast finished detailing his personal background did the car fall silent again, and Si Yoon wore an indifferent expression, as if the whole affair had nothing to do with him.

During the brief red light, he deftly adjusted his bow tie and straightened his outfit—without even glancing at the rearview mirror.

* * *

The Canadian Embassy in Washington, D.C. was hosting an open-house reception.

Perhaps because it was the final day, guests of various nationalities filled the banquet hall.

Among them, Mi Joo was working part-time as a server. Although many East Asians were present, most were embassy staff or VIP guests, so Mi Joo felt at ease.

‘No chance of running into anyone I know, and no one pulling shameless stunts—jobs like this would be ideal if they came up more often.’

Mi Joo checked her watch. The cocktail reception would end in thirty minutes, and the main banquet would soon begin—meaning her shift was nearly over. But her day wasn’t done yet; she still had to head to her next job.

‘It’s exhausting, but honestly, I’m grateful just to have work.’

Just then, a man’s unfamiliar back caught her attention—someone she hadn’t noticed while bustling around the hall all day.

Even among foreigners averaging 180 cm tall, this man stood out with his noticeably taller frame and striking black hair.

‘Have I ever seen a foreigner with hair that black?’

His tailored suit emphasized his long limbs and broad shoulders, drawing Mi Joo’s gaze.

She could almost sense the firm muscles beneath the straight, confident line of his back, covered by the jacket vent. Mi Joo chuckled inwardly.

‘Here I am, getting all sorts of thoughts from just looking at a stranger’s back—without even seeing his face.’

Yet it was true: she was curious about what the front of this physically impressive, black-haired man looked like.

‘Is he East Asian? Could he be Korean?’

Pushing aside her rising curiosity, Mi Joo turned toward a middle-aged woman who was beckoning her for a cocktail.

* * *

The ambassador’s young son, delighted that this man shared his name, eagerly grabbed Si Yoon’s hand to express his excitement.

Encouraged by Si Yoon’s words, the boy bounced around excitedly—then bumped into a middle-aged woman standing nearby.

“Oh my!”

The impact jostled Mi Joo, who’d been holding a tray to serve the woman a cocktail, slightly off balance—but fortunately, she steadied herself.

The woman, however, swayed unsteadily, and in an instant, Si Yoon caught her by the waist, preventing a fall.

Though she should’ve been embarrassed or annoyed, the woman was already disarmed by the gentlemanly gesture and had grown kindly indulgent.

The man helped her stand upright, then gently took the cocktail glass from her hand.

At his words, the woman beamed with a warm smile.

Mi Joo, who’d done nothing wrong yet felt awkward just standing there, grew uneasy—and caught the ambassador casting a cool glance her way.

But the ambassador soon redirected his attention from Mi Joo, softened by the cheerful laughter between the woman and Si Yoon, and smiled as well.

Si Yoon, weary of the constant female attention he always attracted at gatherings like this, had decided to use this middle-aged woman as a shield for the evening. Feeling slightly guilty about using her, he treated her with even greater courtesy and deference.

Uncertain whether to apologize or simply walk away—since she hadn’t actually made a mistake—Mi Joo stood awkwardly in place. Then, quickly fetching a new tray of cocktails, she approached the man.

Sharp, charismatic eyes; a straight nose extending cleanly from his forehead; a lean jawline reminiscent of a rising actor—his face was undeniably handsome, she realized in that fleeting moment.

The man took a fresh cocktail, gave Mi Joo a brief, polite nod of thanks, then handed the glass to the middle-aged woman.

The woman gave Mi Joo a kind smile—graceful, yet clearly signaling that Mi Joo should bow in apology for the earlier collision.

Mi Joo quickly pulled a napkin from her vest pocket and knelt to wipe up the spill—but the tray in one hand made it difficult to move freely.

Just as she managed to lower herself and begin cleaning, the man beside her bent one knee and crouched down, meeting her eyes. Then he took the napkin from her hand.

Though the woman tried to stop him urgently, the man offered her a small smile before turning back to Mi Joo with an indifferent expression.

Mi Joo was the most flustered of all.

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‘Why is a complete stranger inserting himself into my job? Everyone’s staring!’

Self-conscious under the onlookers’ gazes, Mi Joo gave him an awkward, pleading smile.

‘Just leave it alone!’

But of course, her silent plea went unheard. The man’s emotionless, icy gaze lingered on her for a moment, then shifted back to the middle-aged woman.

Without even being asked, he pulled out his handkerchief and briskly wiped the stain from her shoe. Then he cleaned the floor meticulously with the napkin before standing up.

Mi Joo, who’d remained kneeling on one knee this whole time, looked up at the tall man as he rose.

Tight skirt, heels, and a tray full of cocktails in one hand—

and now this man staring down at her as if urging her to get up immediately—made it hard for Mi Joo to regain her balance and stand.

‘Please, don’t let my face turn red too.’

But feeling like a clumsy bear performing tricks in front of a crowd, Mi Joo’s cheeks flushed crimson anyway.

Si Yoon extended the used napkin toward her. As he stretched out his arm, his jacket sleeve pulled taut.

Mi Joo reached out to take the damp napkin first—when suddenly, the man gently pulled her up with ease and even steadied her wobbling cocktail tray.

‘Phew, thank goodness.’

But before she could even say thank you, he’d already placed the wet napkin in her hand and turned away.

Around them, women’s eyes sparkled toward Si Yoon, and the middle-aged woman—who’d been turned into the evening’s unexpected heroine by this man—was thoroughly delighted.

Si Yoon, acting as if the server Mi Joo didn’t exist, resumed chatting with the surrounding guests.

Ignoring the young and lovely women showing interest in him, he kept his eyes only on the middle-aged woman—an attitude that struck Mi Joo as oddly unusual.

‘Could his type be middle-aged women… or married ones?’

* * *

Even while refilling cocktail glasses in the kitchen, Mi Joo kept replaying the image of that man kneeling before her.

‘Was he just showing off? Why interfere in someone else’s work and make things awkward? But… is he Korean?’

Until now, Mi Joo hadn’t even had a boyfriend—let alone a real friend—and had spent her days shuttling only between school and part-time jobs. Maybe that’s why she felt oddly drawn to this black-haired East Asian man, and why it unsettled her.

She’d deliberately chosen to settle in this area precisely because few Korean expats lived here—she didn’t want to run into fellow Koreans. Every time she did, they always asked the same questions:

‘When did you come to the U.S.?’

‘Which school do you go to?’

‘Where did you live in Korea?’

As an orphan, Mi Joo found those questions burdensome—yet here she was, wondering about a stranger’s nationality.

Sighing deeply as if to clear her thoughts, she picked up her tray and headed back into the banquet hall.

The little boy from earlier spotted her and scampered over.

His face usually full of mischief, but now serious in apology, made Mi Joo let out an involuntary chuckle.

The boy waved cheerfully and skipped away.

‘Even a little kid knows his manners… I really should go thank him properly.’

Mi Joo scanned the hall, searching for the man named Tim.

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