Chapter Text
Jake Sim stood at the base of the glass tower, craning his neck to see the top disappear into the cloudy sky above. The Magnolia Hotel rose from the heart of Gangnam, its surface reflecting the busy city below in scattered, shimmering pieces.
At twenty-four, Jake had experienced more than most people his age, but this moment felt different. His hands, rough from years of knife work and countless hours perfecting his craft, shook slightly as he adjusted the strap of his leather messenger bag, a gift from his parents when he'd first moved back to Korea three years ago. Inside were his most precious possessions: his knife roll with the tools that had become extensions of his hands, and a small, worn notebook filled with his grandmother's traditional recipes, written in her careful handwriting.
His reflection in the hotel's glass doors showed a man who looked both determined and slightly overwhelmed. His dark hair, always a bit messy despite his efforts to tame it, caught the morning light as he ran his fingers through it, a nervous habit he'd never managed to shake. Jake had grown tall and lean during his years in Brisbane, his frame shaped by the physical demands of professional kitchens and long hours on his feet. His face, soft and kind, carried the gentle expression that had made him popular with customers and colleagues.
Jake thought back to the path that had brought him here. His family had moved to Australia when he was just eight, his parents seeking better opportunities in Brisbane's growing multicultural community. His father found work as an accountant, while his mother took a position at a local Korean grocery store, keeping their connection to home through food and community. For sixteen years, Australia had been home, and Jake had done well there, his caring nature making him well-liked by teachers, friends, and eventually, his culinary mentors.
But something had always pulled at his heart, a longing for the flavors and traditions he'd barely had time to absorb as a child. His grandmother's cooking had been his first taste of real Korean cuisine, and the memory of her hands guiding him as they folded dumplings together remained one of his most treasured memories.
It was this sense of loss that had driven him to make the difficult decision to return to Korea. His parents had been supportive but worried, understanding his need to reconnect with his roots while fearing for his future in a country that had become foreign to him. Jake had saved every penny from his work at high-end restaurants in Brisbane, eventually accumulating enough to fund his return and support himself while establishing his career in Seoul.
The transition hadn't been easy. Despite his fluency in Korean, carefully maintained through conversations with his parents and grandmother, Jake had found himself struggling with Seoul's rapid pace and the intense competitiveness of the culinary scene. He started small, working as a line cook at a traditional restaurant in Insadong, where the elderly owner had taken pity on the earnest young man who spoke of his grandmother's recipes with tears in his eyes.
It was there, in that cramped kitchen filled with the sounds of sizzling oil and rhythmic chopping, that Jake had truly found his calling. Traditional Korean cuisine became his obsession and meditation. He spent his days perfecting Korean dishes, learning to balance the complex flavors of red pepper paste, and mastering the delicate technique required for hand-pulled noodles. His evenings were devoted to studying, reading everything about Korean culinary history and techniques, often staying up late to practice new dishes in his tiny apartment kitchen.
His dedication didn't go unnoticed. Within six months of starting at the Insadong restaurant, Jake's dishes had caught the attention of a food critic who had been dining anonymously. The review, published in one of Seoul's respected culinary magazines, described Jake's cooking as "a revelation of traditional technique married to intuitive understanding" and his kimchi stew as "comfort elevated to art." The critic particularly praised Jake's ability to honor traditional recipes while bringing a subtle, personal touch that spoke to his unique journey between cultures.
More reviews followed, each building upon the last, until Jake found himself being courted by some of Seoul's well-regarded restaurants. Offers came from established hotels, trendy fusion establishments, and even a few celebrity chefs looking to add his talent to their teams. But it was the call from the Magnolia Hotel that had truly surprised him.
The Magnolia wasn't just a hotel, it was an institution. Owned by one of Korea's largest conglomerates, it represented luxury and sophistication in Seoul's hospitality scene. The building itself was an architectural achievement, its design inspired by the magnolia flower that gave it its name: elegant, pure, and enduring. The hotel catered to international dignitaries, celebrities, and business leaders from around the world, and its restaurants were consistently ranked among the best in Asia.
When Jake received the call offering him the position of head chef for the hotel's new traditional Korean restaurant, he initially thought it was a prank. The salary they offered was more than he had ever imagined earning, and the opportunity to showcase authentic Korean cuisine on such a platform seemed almost too good to be true. But the caller had been persistent and professional, eventually arranging for Jake to meet with the hotel's culinary director and present a tasting menu that would demonstrate his capabilities.
That tasting had been the most nerve-wracking experience of Jake's professional life. He spent days planning the menu, selecting dishes that would showcase both his technical skill and his deep understanding of Korean culinary traditions. He prepared a chicken soup with a broth so clear and flavorful that it seemed to capture the essence of comfort itself, followed by perfectly grilled ribs that melted on the tongue, and finished with a dessert of his own creation, a modern interpretation of pancakes filled with brown sugar, cinnamon, and crushed pine nuts, served alongside homemade vanilla ice cream infused with Korean pear.
The panel of judges included not only the culinary director but also several food critics and, intimidatingly, a representative from the conglomerate that owned the hotel. Jake watched their faces carefully as they tasted each dish, trying to read their expressions for any hint of approval or disappointment. When they finally announced their decision, unanimous approval and an immediate job offer, Jake felt his knees go weak with relief and excitement.
Now, standing before the entrance of the Magnolia Hotel, Jake reflected on the strange series of fortunate events that had led him to this moment. Throughout his life, he had been blessed with what his mother called "good luck", a seemingly endless string of perfect timing and unexpected opportunities. Whether it was winning small lottery prizes that helped fund his culinary education, or happening to be in the right place when influential people were dining, or even something as simple as always finding parking spots in the busiest parts of the city, Jake's life seemed charmed in ways that both amazed and slightly unnerved him.
His parents had always joked that he must have been a saint in his previous life to deserve such good fortune, but Jake preferred to think of his luck as a responsibility rather than a gift. Every opportunity that came his way was met with gratitude and hard work, every stroke of good fortune was honored with increased dedication to his craft. He had learned early that talent without effort was worthless, and that even the luckiest person in the world could fail if they took their blessings for granted.
The automatic doors of the Magnolia Hotel whispered open as Jake approached, and he was immediately surrounded by an atmosphere of refined luxury that made his breath catch. The lobby made Jake feel like he’d walked onto a movie set, too much glass, too much light. He tugged at his bag strap, suddenly aware of the scuffed leather against all that polished marble. Large arrangements of white magnolia flowers perfumed the air with their sweet, clean fragrance.
The space was large enough to host a concert, yet somehow managed to feel intimate and welcoming. Elegant seating areas were arranged throughout the lobby, each designed to provide privacy while maintaining the open, airy feeling of the space. Guests moved through the area with the unhurried confidence of people accustomed to luxury, their conversations a quiet murmur that added to the sophisticated ambiance rather than disrupting it.
Jake paused for a moment, taking in the scale and beauty of his new workplace. Crystal chandeliers hung like frozen fireworks from the ceiling, their light refracting through the glass above to create dancing patterns on the marble below. Everything spoke of money and taste, of a place where every detail had been considered and perfected.
He straightened his shoulders, adjusted his messenger bag one final time, and walked toward the reception desk.
The woman behind the desk looked up as he approached, her smile professional but warm. She was impeccably dressed in the hotel's signature navy and gold uniform, her hair pulled back in a flawless chignon. Her name tag read "Ms. Park," and when she spoke, her voice carried the refined accent that Jake associated with Seoul's more exclusive establishments.
"Good morning," Jake said, his voice steady despite the flutter of excitement in his chest. "I'm Jake Sim, the new chef. I believe I'm expected?"
Ms. Park's smile brightened considerably. "Of course, Chef Sim! We've been looking forward to your arrival. The entire staff is excited to have you join the Magnolia family." She consulted her computer screen briefly before continuing. "Manager Choi is waiting for you on the twenty-third floor. He'll be conducting your orientation and showing you around the facilities."
She gestured toward a bank of elevators across the lobby, their brass doors gleaming like mirrors. "Take the express elevator, it's the one on the far right. It will take you directly to the executive floors. Manager Choi will meet you as soon as you arrive."
Jake thanked her and made his way across the lobby, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floor. As he walked, he caught glimpses of the hotel's other amenities: an elegant bar area where morning light streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, a boutique showcasing luxury goods, and what appeared to be a small art gallery featuring rotating exhibitions.
The express elevator was well-designed and impressive. As the brass doors slid open with barely a whisper, Jake stepped into what felt more like a small, luxurious room than a simple elevator car. The walls were paneled in rich wood, and a single magnolia blossom floated in a shallow crystal bowl on a small shelf. The elevator began its ascent so smoothly that Jake barely felt the movement, but the numbers on the digital display climbed rapidly: fifth floor, tenth, fifteenth.
It was through the elevator's glass back wall that Jake truly appreciated the design of the Magnolia. As they rose, the lobby below revealed its full scope and beauty. From this elevated perspective, he could see how the various seating areas formed a subtle pattern that echoed the petals of a magnolia flower, and how the natural light streaming through the glass ceiling created different moods throughout the space as the sun moved across the sky.
The view extended beyond the hotel itself to the city beyond. Seoul spread out in all directions. Traditional Korean rooflines peeked out between towering glass and steel structures, while the Han River curved like a silver ribbon through the urban landscape. In the distance, the mountains that surrounded the city provided a backdrop, their peaks often shrouded in morning mist that added an element of mystery to the sprawling metropolis.
The elevator chimed softly as it reached the twenty-third floor, and the doors slid open to reveal a corridor that was every bit as impressive as the lobby below. Jake stepped out, his heart racing for what lay ahead.
Jake looked around the elegant corridor, searching for any sign of Manager Choi. The hallway seemed to stretch in both directions, lined with doors that bore discrete brass nameplates and numbers. The silence was almost reverent, broken only by the soft hum of the building's ventilation system and the distant sound of elevator doors opening and closing.
"Chef Sim?"
The voice came from behind him, and Jake turned to see a middle-aged man approaching with a warm smile and confident stride. Manager Choi was exactly what Jake had expected from someone in his position, impeccably dressed in a navy blue suit that complemented the hotel's color scheme, with silver hair perfectly styled and an air of professional competence that immediately put Jake at ease.
"Yes, that's me," Jake replied, extending his hand for a handshake. "Thank you for meeting me."
Manager Choi's handshake was firm and welcoming. "The pleasure is entirely mine, Chef. I've been looking forward to this day since we received confirmation of your acceptance. Your reputation precedes you, and I must say, the entire management team is pleased to have someone like you joining the Magnolia family."
There was something genuinely warm in Manager Choi's manner that reminded Jake of his father, that particular blend of professionalism and kindness that made even formal interactions feel personal. As they began walking down the corridor, Manager Choi gestured to the surroundings with obvious pride.
"I know the lobby made quite an impression, but wait until you see what we have planned for your restaurant space. The design team has done excellent work, and I believe you'll find it provides the perfect backdrop for the culinary artistry you'll be creating."
They passed several doors before stopping at a set of double doors made from dark wood, with brass handles that gleamed under the soft corridor lighting. Manager Choi produced a key card from his jacket pocket and held it against a discrete reader. The soft click of the lock disengaging was followed by Manager Choi pushing open the doors with a flourish.
"Welcome," he said, "to your new kingdom."
Jake stepped through the doorway and felt his breath catch in his throat. If the lobby had impressed him with its grandeur, the restaurant space before him was striking in its understated elegance and sophisticated beauty. The room was spacious but intimate, designed with the kind of attention to detail that spoke of significant resources guided by good taste.
The lighting was the first thing that captured his attention. Rather than the bright, harsh illumination of many commercial kitchens, the restaurant was bathed in a warm, golden glow that seemed to come from multiple carefully placed sources. Recessed lighting in the ceiling provided general illumination, while elegant pendant lights hung over each table like small, sophisticated chandeliers. The overall effect was atmospheric, creating an ambiance that was both romantic and refined.
The color palette was sophisticated and restrained, primarily black, gray, and white, with occasional touches of deep navy that echoed the hotel's signature colors. The flooring was polished black granite that reflected the lighting like a still, dark lake, while the walls were a soft gray that seemed to change tone depending on the light and viewing angle. White accents appeared in the table linens, the subtle trim work, and the elegant chairs that surrounded each table.
But it was the view that truly took Jake's breath away. The entire far wall of the restaurant was floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an unobstructed panorama of Gangnam district spread out below. From this height, the city looked like a glittering collection of lights, with the illumination from office buildings, shops, and restaurants creating a tapestry of urban life. During the day, Jake could imagine how natural light would flood the space, while evening service would provide diners with one of the most spectacular views in Seoul.
Jake walked slowly through the dining room, his footsteps muffled by the acoustic design that ensured even a full restaurant would maintain an atmosphere of refined tranquility. He could envision guests dining here: business leaders conducting important meetings over perfectly prepared dishes, couples celebrating anniversaries with his signature tasting menu, families gathering to share the comfort of a meal.
"The design team wanted to create a space that honored Korean aesthetic principles while feeling thoroughly contemporary," Manager Choi explained as they continued their tour. "The concept was to make diners feel as though they were experiencing Korean culture at its most refined, without any sense of theme park artificiality."
Jake nodded, understanding immediately what the designers had achieved. This wasn't Korean restaurant décor, it was sophisticated dining that happened to honor Korean design principles. The difference was subtle but important, and it spoke to the level of thought and investment that had gone into creating this space.
"The capacity is sixty-four covers for regular service," Manager Choi continued, "with the private dining rooms able to accommodate parties of up to twelve. We're planning to be open six days a week initially, closed Mondays for deep cleaning and staff training. Lunch service will be limited to private dining and special events, with dinner service beginning at six PM."
They moved toward the service area, where Jake could see glimpses of what would be his domain, the kitchen where he would create the dishes that would define this restaurant's reputation. Manager Choi paused at the entrance to the kitchen area, his hand on the brushed steel door.
"Now, Chef, prepare yourself. The kitchen is going to be unlike anything you've worked in before."
The kitchen that revealed itself as the door swung open was indeed unlike anything Jake had ever seen. If the dining room was a study in elegant restraint, the kitchen was a temple to culinary precision and efficiency. The space was much larger than the entire restaurant where he had worked in Insadong and equipped with technology that seemed almost futuristic.
Every surface was gleaming stainless steel, from the custom-built ranges with their precise flame control to the large refrigeration units that lined one entire wall. The prep stations were arranged with mathematical precision, each one equipped with every tool a chef could possibly need. Overhead, a sophisticated ventilation system hummed quietly, ensuring that even during the busiest service, the kitchen would remain comfortable and safe.
But it was the details that truly impressed Jake. The knife storage system was climate-controlled to maintain optimal conditions for blade preservation. The spice storage area featured individual compartments for hundreds of different seasonings, each one labeled in both Korean and English.
Jake moved through the kitchen like a man in a dream, running his hands along the smooth steel surfaces, opening drawers to find perfectly organized tool sets, testing the flame control on the ranges. This wasn't just a kitchen, it was a chef's fantasy made real, a space designed by people who understood that great cooking required great tools and perfect organization.
"There's also this," Manager Choi said, leading Jake to a door at the back of the kitchen. Beyond was a smaller but equally well-appointed space. "Your private test kitchen and office area. We thought you might want somewhere quiet to develop new dishes and handle the administrative side of running the restaurant."
The test kitchen was intimate and personal, equipped with a full range but designed for one person to work comfortably. There was a desk area with a computer system, and shelves lined with cookbooks from around the world. A small seating area would allow Jake to taste his creations in comfort, and large windows provided natural light for food photography and presentation work.
"In my wildest dreams," Jake whispered, more to himself than to Manager Choi, "I never imagined anything like this."
Manager Choi smiled at the wonder in Jake's voice. "That was exactly the reaction we were hoping for. CEO Lee wanted to ensure that you had everything necessary to create something truly special. No expense has been spared, and no detail has been overlooked."
They returned to the main dining room, where Jake stood once again taking in the scope of what he was being entrusted with.
"I'll leave you now to begin your preparations and meet with your team," Manager Choi said, checking his watch. "You have exactly one month until opening night, and I know that seems like both a long time and no time at all. The advance reservations have been extraordinary, we're already booked solid for the first three months."
One month to create a menu, train a staff, and prepare for what would undoubtedly be one of the most scrutinized restaurant openings in Seoul's recent history. The pressure was significant, but Jake had always performed best when the stakes were high.
"I want to thank you again for this opportunity," Jake said, meaning every word. "I promise I won't disappoint you or the hotel."
Manager Choi waved dismissively, though his smile remained warm. "The thanks don't belong to me, Chef. This is all thanks to CEO Lee. He was the one who insisted we pursue you specifically, and he was the one who approved every aspect of this restaurant's design and budget."
Jake's curiosity was piqued. Throughout the entire hiring process, he had never actually met the CEO of the conglomerate that owned the Magnolia Hotel. All of his interactions had been with the culinary director and other management staff. The idea that someone he had never met had been advocating for him so strongly was both flattering and slightly mysterious.
"When will I have the chance to meet CEO Lee?" Jake asked. "I'd love to thank him personally for his faith in me."
"Opening night," Manager Choi replied. "CEO Lee will be attending the opening celebration, and I'm sure he'll be eager to meet you then. He's been following your career with great interest, and I believe he has high expectations for what you'll achieve here."
There was something in Manager Choi's tone, a slight hesitation, perhaps, or a note of something Jake couldn't quite identify, that made him curious about this mysterious CEO. But before he could ask any follow-up questions, Manager Choi was already moving toward the door.
"I'll leave you to explore and begin your planning," he said. "Your team will be arriving throughout the week for interviews and training. The administrative staff will provide you with all the schedules and contact information you need. Remember, Chef, you have one month to create something that will establish this restaurant as a premier Korean dining destination in Seoul. No pressure at all."
The last comment was delivered with a wry smile that made Jake laugh despite the weight of expectation settling on his shoulders. As Manager Choi disappeared through the double doors, Jake found himself alone in his new restaurant for the first time.
The view from the windows had changed as afternoon shadows lengthened, painting Gangnam in different shades of gold and amber. Jake could see people moving through the streets below: office workers heading home, couples meeting for dinner, families gathering to share meals. Soon, some of those people would be climbing to the twenty-third floor of the Magnolia Hotel to experience what he would create for them.
Jake had one month to prepare his new menu and work hard to make everything go perfectly. He could not, would not, disappoint the people who had shown such faith in his abilities. CEO Lee, Manager Choi, the hotel staff, and most importantly, the guests who would trust him to provide them with an unforgettable dining experience.
The sweet scent of magnolia blossoms drifted through the air conditioning system, and Jake smiled as he began mentally organizing the weeks ahead. He had work to do, a team to build, and a reputation to establish. In one month, this beautiful, empty restaurant would come alive with the sounds of service, the aromas of food cooking, and the satisfied conversation of guests experiencing something truly special.
The month that followed passed in a blur of eighteen-hour days, countless recipe tests, and careful preparation.
Jake had assembled a team of twelve talented cooks and servers, each one carefully selected not just for their technical skills but for their dedication to the vision he was creating. The head sous chef, Sangwon, was a veteran of some of Seoul's most respected kitchens, while the pastry chef, Yunah. Together, they had spent weeks perfecting the menu that would define the restaurant's reputation from its very first service.
Now, on the morning of opening night, Jake's alarm buzzed insistently at 6:00 AM, though he had been lying awake for the past hour, his mind racing through every detail of the evening ahead. The October morning was crisp and clear, with early sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains of his shared apartment.
Jake rolled out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen, his body moving on autopilot while his mind continued its endless loop of menu items, timing sequences, and potential problems. The apartment was quiet except for the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant sounds of Seoul waking up: delivery trucks rumbling past, shop owners raising their metal shutters, the first subway trains of the day carrying early commuters to their destinations.
As he measured coffee grounds with the same precision he brought to his professional cooking, the familiar ritual helped calm his nerves. The rich aroma of brewing coffee began to fill the small space, mixing with the lingering scents of the kimchi he kept fermenting in ceramic crocks by the window.
"Jake? Why are you up already?"
The sleepy voice made him turn toward the hallway, where his roommate Sunoo stood rubbing his eyes and looking confused. Kim Sunoo was everything Jake wasn't: outgoing, spontaneous, and blessed with the kind of effortless charm that made him popular wherever he went. At twenty-three, he worked as a social media coordinator for an entertainment company, a job that seemed to consist mostly of creating content that went viral and attending industry parties that Jake heard about secondhand.
Despite their different personalities, the two had become close friends since Jake had moved into the apartment eighteen months earlier. Sunoo's cheerful optimism had helped Jake navigate the loneliness of returning to a country that felt both familiar and foreign, while Jake's steady presence had provided Sunoo with the stability he often lacked in his chaotic professional life.
"The opening isn't until six tonight," Sunoo continued, shuffling toward the kitchen in his oversized sleep shirt and fuzzy slippers. "Did you forget how to tell time from all that stress?"
Jake managed a weak laugh as he poured coffee into two mugs, one for himself and one for Sunoo, who was clearly going to need caffeine to function despite the early hour. "I couldn't sleep. I keep going over everything in my head, making sure I haven't forgotten anything important."
Sunoo accepted the coffee gratefully and took a long sip before responding. "You know what you've forgotten? How good you are at this. Jake, I've watched you cook for the past year and a half. You make magic happen with ingredients. Remember that time you made bibimbap with whatever random stuff we had in the fridge and it was better than anything I'd ever eaten at a restaurant?"
"That's different," Jake protested, though he felt a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "This is... this is the biggest night of my career. There are going to be food critics there, influential people in the industry, and..." He took a deep breath. "The CEO of the entire conglomerate that owns the hotel."
Sunoo perched on one of the small stools at their tiny breakfast counter, studying Jake's face with the kind of attention that made him so good at reading social media trends. "You're terrified of disappointing people who already believe in you enough to give you this opportunity. That's very you, but also very unnecessary."
"I just want everything to be perfect," Jake said, running his hands through his hair. "This restaurant could change everything for me. If it fails..."
"It's not going to fail," Sunoo interrupted firmly. "But even if something goes wrong tonight, which it won't, you'll handle it. That's what you do. You solve problems and make beautiful food and take care of people. It's literally who you are."
Jake felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease as he sipped his coffee. Sunoo had a gift for cutting through anxiety and self-doubt with simple, direct truths. "I'm sorry I can't get you into the opening night. I know you wanted to be there."
Sunoo waved dismissively. “I’ll be on Twitter bragging about my superstar roommate. Don’t worry, I’ll make you sound cooler than you actually are.”
"You wouldn't embarrass me," Jake said sincerely. "But you're right about the stress. I keep thinking about all the people who will be there... And the CEO..." He shook his head. "I still haven't met him. Manager Choi says he's been following my career, but I can't figure out how or why."
"Maybe he's a secret foodie," Sunoo suggested. "Rich people always have weird hobbies. Maybe he spends his free time reading restaurant reviews and watching cooking shows."
"Maybe," Jake agreed, though something about the situation continued to puzzle him. In his experience, CEOs of major conglomerates didn't usually take personal interest in individual restaurant hires, no matter how well-reviewed they might be.
"Oh!" Sunoo exclaimed suddenly, nearly spilling his coffee in his excitement. "I almost forgot to tell you. I managed to get a table reservation for next month. November fifteenth, eight PM."
Jake blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"I called yesterday pretending to be someone important's assistant, and they had one cancellation." Sunoo grinned mischievously. "I figured by then you'll have worked out all the opening night kinks, and I can finally experience the full Jake Sim culinary journey without you being too nervous to enjoy watching me eat it."
Despite his anxiety, Jake found himself laughing genuinely for the first time all morning. "You're insane. Do you know how expensive that dinner is going to be?"
"Worth every won to see Seoul's newest celebrity chef in action. Plus I invited Jungwon so Jay will take care of it," Sunoo replied cheerfully. "Speaking of which, you should probably get going soon if you want to be at the hotel early enough to second-guess every single decision you've made over the past month."
Jake glanced at the clock on the microwave and realized Sunoo was right. Even though service didn't begin until 6PM, he wanted to be at the restaurant by 10AM to oversee final preparations, conduct a last team meeting, and make sure every element was exactly as he envisioned it.
"You're right," he said, draining his coffee mug. "I should get moving."
As he headed toward his bedroom to change, Sunoo called after him. "Jake? Tonight is going to be amazing. Trust me on this one."
The confidence in his roommate's voice stayed with Jake as he showered, dressed, and gathered his knife roll and other equipment. Sunoo's unwavering belief in his abilities was infectious, and by the time Jake left the apartment, he was feeling more excited than nervous about the evening ahead.
The subway ride to Gangnam gave him time to center himself, watching Seoul wake up around him through the train windows. Street vendors were setting up their carts, office workers clutched coffee cups as they hurried toward their buildings, and students chatted excitedly about their day ahead.
The day passed in a controlled frenzy of final preparations. Jake arrived at the restaurant to find his team already hard at work, each person focused on their assigned tasks. The morning was spent checking deliveries, prepping ingredients, and running through service procedures one final time.
The afternoon brought the first glimpse of the evening's guests as hotel staff began setting up the private reception area where VIPs would gather before dinner. Jake caught sight of elegantly dressed servers arranging flowers and polishing glassware, and felt his pulse quicken with anticipation.
By four in the afternoon, the kitchen was humming with perfectly orchestrated activity. Jake moved between stations, tasting sauces, adjusting seasonings, and ensuring that every component of every dish met his exacting standards. The familiar rhythm of professional service was beginning to take over, replacing anxiety with focused determination.
It was just after five, with less than an hour until the first guests would arrive, when Jake found himself alone at his station putting the finishing touches on the evening's side dishes that would accompany each course. His hands moved automatically, arranging seasoned spinach with careful precision, adjusting the placement of pickled radish until it was exactly right.
"Chef Sim?"
Jake looked up to see Manager Choi approaching, impeccably dressed in formal evening wear that somehow made the already impressive man look even more distinguished.
"Everything looks perfect," Manager Choi said, surveying the kitchen with obvious satisfaction. "Your team is ready, the dining room is set, and the first guests are beginning to arrive upstairs."
Jake wiped his hands on his chef's towel and nodded. "We're ready for service. The first course will go out at exactly six-fifteen, just as we planned."
"Excellent." Manager Choi paused, and Jake noticed a slight shift in his expression. "Before we begin, there's someone I'd like you to meet. CEO Lee has arrived, and he's asked specifically to meet with you before service starts."
Jake felt his heart rate spike, though whether from excitement or anxiety, he couldn't say. After a month of wondering about the CEO who had championed his hiring, he was finally going to meet the man in person.
"Of course," Jake said, quickly checking his reflection in the polished steel of the prep counter and straightening his chef's jacket. "I'd be honored to meet him."
"Just be yourself," Manager Choi advised as they walked toward the dining room.
The kitchen doors swung open just as Jake and Manager Choi reached them, and a figure stepped through that made Jake's breath catch in his throat for reasons he couldn't immediately understand. The man who entered was tall and lean. His Italian suit, clearly worth more than Jake's annual salary, fit his frame as if it had been crafted specifically for him, the charcoal gray fabric complementing his pale skin and making his dark hair seem to absorb the kitchen's bright lighting.
This had to be CEO Lee Heeseung, though Jake's mind seemed to have momentarily forgotten how to process that information properly. Everything about the man commanded attention, from his perfectly styled black hair that looked like it had been touched by a master stylist moments before, to his broad shoulders that filled out the three-piece suit. He moved through the bustling kitchen like he belonged there
But it was when their eyes met that Jake felt something shift in the world around him. CEO Lee's eyes were large and dark, the kind of deep brown that seemed almost black in certain light, with long lashes that gave him an unexpectedly gentle expression despite the obvious power he wielded. There was something in those eyes, a recognition, perhaps, or a depth of emotion that seemed far too intense for a first meeting between strangers.
Jake found himself unable to look away, caught in what felt like a moment suspended in time. The man's face was striking in a way that seemed almost ethereal: high cheekbones, a straight nose that belonged on classical sculptures, and lips that were very soft-looking, with a natural shape that made Jake's thoughts scatter in directions that had nothing to do with professional introductions. A small mole adorned his forehead, a tiny detail that somehow made the rest of his features even more captivating.
Time seemed to slow as CEO Lee approached, and Jake became acutely aware of everything about the moment: the way the fluorescent lights caught the subtle texture of the man's suit, the soft sound of his expensive leather shoes against the kitchen floor, the faint scent of what might have been bergamot and cedar that surrounded him like an invisible aura. Jake's cheeks began to warm as he realized he was staring, but he seemed powerless to stop himself.
"Chef Sim," Manager Choi said, his voice seeming to come from very far away, "I'd like you to meet CEO Lee Heeseung."
The sound of his own name seemed to break whatever spell had fallen over Jake, and he quickly bowed deeply, hoping the gesture would hide the flush he could feel spreading across his face. "Mr. Lee, it's an honor to meet you," he managed, his voice only slightly less steady than usual. "Thank you so much for this opportunity."
When Jake straightened from his bow, he found Mr. Lee watching him with an expression that was difficult to read, intense and focused, but with an underlying warmth that made Jake's pulse quicken. There was something almost tender in the way the older man was looking at him, as if he were seeing something precious that had been lost and then found again.
“The honor is entirely mine, Chef Sim,” Mr. Lee replied, and Lee’s voice was lower than Jake expected, with a rasp that made him feel suddenly too warm under the kitchen lights. "I've been looking forward to meeting you for quite some time."
The smile that accompanied these words was striking in its beauty, genuine and warm, reaching his eyes and transforming his already handsome features into something that seemed to glow with inner light. Jake felt his breath catch again and had to resist the urge to reach out and steady himself against the nearest counter.
"I... thank you," Jake stammered, acutely aware that he was not making the best first impression on the most important person in his professional life. "I hope I can live up to your expectations."
"I have no doubt that you will exceed them," Mr. Lee said with quiet confidence that sent warmth flooding through Jake's chest. "Would you mind presenting tonight's menu for me? I'm quite curious about what you've created."
Jake nodded, grateful to have something concrete to focus on besides the way Mr. Lee's presence seemed to be affecting his ability to think clearly. He gestured toward the prep station where samples of each course were artfully arranged for final quality checks.
"Tonight's menu is a ten-course tasting that tells the story of Korean culinary tradition through modern techniques," Jake began, his professional training helping him find his voice again. "We begin with our amuse-bouche: kimchi mousse served on house-made rice crackers with micro perilla leaves. It's meant to awaken the palate while honoring one of our most fundamental flavors."
As Jake moved through each course, he could feel CEO Lee's attention like a physical presence. The man listened intently, asking thoughtful questions about techniques and ingredient sourcing that revealed a sophisticated understanding of fine dining. His interest seemed genuine rather than polite, and Jake found himself relaxing slightly as he discussed the food that represented his deepest passion.
"The third course is our interpretation of saengchae, raw dishes that celebrate the purity of ingredients," Jake continued, indicating a beautiful arrangement of paper-thin radish wrapped around seasoned pear and topped with pine nuts. "We use Korean pear at its peak ripeness, dressed with a reduction of aged soy sauce and finished with perilla oil."
"Remarkable," Mr. Lee murmured, and Jake could see genuine appreciation in his expression.
Jake moved on to describe the centerpiece courses: perfectly grilled Korean beef served with fermented soybean paste that had been aged for three years, delicate seafood preparations featuring ingredients from both the East and West coasts of Korea, and vegetables treated with the reverence usually reserved for the finest proteins.
"Our ninth course is a modern interpretation of traditional temple food," Jake explained, his confidence growing as he spoke about dishes that represented years of study and experimentation. "Buddha's delight reimagined with seasonal mountain vegetables, each one prepared using techniques that highlight its individual character while contributing to the overall harmony of the dish."
"And the final course?" Mr. Lee asked, his dark eyes fixed on Jake's face.
"Dessert is our pastry chef's masterpiece," Jake managed. "A sphere made from white chocolate and infused with brown sugar syrup, designed to mimic a rice cake. When broken, it reveals brown sugar ice cream, candied ginger, and crushed pine nuts. It's served with a small pour of aged rice wine that has been clarified and lightly sweetened."
CEO Lee was quiet for a long moment, and Jake found himself holding his breath while waiting for the verdict. When the older man finally smiled, that same radiant expression that seemed to light up the entire kitchen, Jake felt his knees go weak all over again.
"I cannot wait to taste it." Mr. Lee said simply.
The genuine enthusiasm in his voice made Jake feel like he could float. Professional praise from someone of CEO Lee's stature should have been satisfying enough, but there was something in the way the man looked at him that made the compliment feel deeply personal.
"You shouldn't stress yourself tonight," Mr. Lee continued, his voice taking on an almost protective tone that Jake couldn't quite understand. "You've prepared something great, and I know it will be received exactly as it deserves to be."
There was a moment of silence that stretched between them, filled with something Jake couldn't name but could definitely feel. CEO Lee seemed to be studying his face as if trying to memorize every detail, and Jake found himself doing the same thing in return, cataloging the way the kitchen lights created subtle shadows along the man's cheekbones, the way his lips curved in the slightest suggestion of a smile, the way his dark eyes seemed to hold depths that Jake could spend forever exploring.
"I should let you return to your preparations," Mr. Lee said finally, though he didn't immediately move to leave. "The first guests will be seated soon, and I want you to have everything exactly as you've envisioned it."
"Thank you," Jake said, meaning it more deeply than he could express. "For everything. This opportunity, this restaurant, the chance to share what I love with people who will appreciate it."
CEO Lee's expression grew soft, almost tender. "You earned this, Jake. I knew you’d make something special happen here. Tonight just proved it."
With that, he turned and walked back toward the kitchen doors, leaving Jake standing frozen in place, his heart racing and his mind reeling.
"Chef!"
The sharp voice of his sous chef Sangwon cut through Jake's trance-like state, and he turned to see the younger man looking at him with concern and barely concealed amusement.
"We need to start plating the amuse-bouche in ten minutes," Sangwon said, glancing toward the doors where CEO Lee had disappeared. "You've been standing there staring at nothing for the past three minutes."
Jake blinked, realizing that he had indeed been lost in thought, or rather, lost in the memory of dark eyes and a smile that seemed to reach into his chest and rearrange something fundamental about the way his heart worked. The entire kitchen staff was looking at him with expressions that ranged from curious to knowing, and Jake felt heat rise in his cheeks again.
"Right," he said, shaking his head to clear it and moving back toward his station with renewed purpose. "Positions, everyone. Service starts in exactly eight minutes."
"Behind you, Chef," called Yunah as she moved past with a tray of perfectly plated desserts, and Jake forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Whatever strange spell CEO Lee had cast over him would have to wait. Right now, he had a restaurant to open and a reputation to establish.
The evening's success would depend on his ability to focus on the food, on delivering the exceptional experience he had promised. Outside in the dining room, service was beginning, and Jake could hear the soft murmur of conversation as the evening's distinguished guests settled into their seats.
Three hours and forty-seven minutes later, Jake watched as the final dessert course left the kitchen, carried by their most experienced server toward the last table of the evening. The service had been flawless, not a single dish returned, not one complaint from the dining room, and nothing but praise flowing back from the guests through the servers who moved between the kitchen and dining room like well-choreographed dancers.
The kitchen was winding down from the controlled intensity that had defined the evening, with his team moving through their closing procedures with the satisfied exhaustion that came from a successful service.
"Chef Sim?" Manager Choi's voice came from the kitchen doors, and Jake looked up to see the older man approaching with a smile that seemed to light up his entire face. "The guests are requesting your presence in the dining room. They'd like to congratulate you personally on tonight's meal."
Jake felt his pulse quicken, but this time it wasn't from nervousness, it was from the pure excitement of sharing this moment with the people who had experienced his food. He quickly checked his reflection in the polished steel surface of the prep counter, smoothing down his hair and adjusting his chef's jacket to ensure he looked presentable for the dining room.
"How do I look?" he asked Sangwon, who was supervising the cleaning of the grill station.
"Like a chef who just delivered the meal of a lifetime," his sous chef replied with a grin. "Go accept your praise. You've earned every bit of it."
Jake walked through the kitchen doors into the dining room, and was immediately struck by the transformation that had taken place over the course of the evening. The space that had seemed elegant but empty that morning now hummed with the satisfied energy of guests who had experienced something truly special. The lighting had been adjusted to create an even warmer, more intimate atmosphere, and the view of Gangnam beyond the windows provided a glittering backdrop to the evening's success.
But it was the sight of CEO Lee Heeseung approaching him that made Jake's breath catch once again. If the man had been striking in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the kitchen, he was absolutely stunning in the soft, golden ambiance of the dining room. His suit seemed to absorb and reflect the light in equal measure, and his dark hair caught glints of gold from the pendant lights overhead.
"Chef Sim," Heeseung said as he reached Jake, his voice carrying that same warm honey tone that had affected Jake so strongly earlier. "You've outdone yourself tonight."
Before Jake could respond, he felt Heeseung's arm wrap around his waist in a gesture that was oddly intimate. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through Jake's entire body, and he had to concentrate on keeping his expression composed as Heeseung guided him toward the tables of waiting guests.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Heeseung announced to the dining room, his voice carrying easily through the space, "I'd like you to meet Chef Jake Sim, the culinary artist responsible for tonight's experience."
The response was immediate and overwhelming. Guests rose from their seats, applauding enthusiastically as Jake was led from table to table. Each stop brought new compliments, questions about his background and training, and expressions of amazement at the depth and sophistication of the meal they had just experienced.
"Chef Sim, that kimchi mousse was transcendent," said an elderly woman who Jake recognized as one of Seoul's most influential food critics. "I've been reviewing restaurants for thirty years, and I can honestly say I've never tasted anything quite like it."
At another table, a group of business leaders peppered him with questions about his techniques and ingredient sourcing. "The Korean beef, where did you source it?" asked a man whose company Jake knew controlled a significant portion of Korea's food distribution network. "The quality was exceptional, but the preparation technique was unlike anything I've experienced."
Throughout it all, he remained acutely aware of Heeseung's presence beside him, the warmth of the man's hand on his back as they moved from table to table, the way Heeseung's eyes never left his face when he spoke, the pride that seemed to radiate from him as he listened to the praise being heaped on Jake.
As they completed their circuit of the dining room, Jake felt overwhelmed by the positive response to his work. Every guest had something complimentary to say, and several had already asked about making future reservations. The food critics present had hinted at reviews that would likely establish the restaurant as a must-visit destination, and the industry professionals had spoken about potential collaboration opportunities.
"I think that's enough excitement for one evening," Heeseung said softly as they finished speaking with the last table. His hand was still resting on Jake's back, a point of warmth that Jake found himself reluctant to lose. "You should return to your kitchen and begin winding down from what I'm sure has been an exhausting day."
Jake nodded, though part of him wanted to stay in this moment forever, basking in the success, surrounded by satisfied guests, and most of all, standing close enough to Heeseung to catch hints of that bergamot and cedar scent that seemed to surround him.
"Thank you," Jake said, meaning it more deeply than he could express. "For everything. The opportunity, the support..."
Heeseung's smile in response was softer than his earlier expressions. "You deserve every bit of recognition you received tonight, Chef Sim. I knew from the moment I heard about your work that you would create something special here."
There was something in the way Heeseung said those words that made Jake curious about exactly how and when the CEO had first learned about him, but before he could ask, Heeseung was gently steering him back toward the kitchen doors.
"Get some rest," Heeseung said as they reached the entrance to the kitchen. "You've earned it."
Jake reluctantly returned to his domain, where his team was putting the finishing touches on their closing procedures. The contrast between the warm, golden ambiance of the dining room and the bright, sterile efficiency of the kitchen was stark, but Jake found comfort in the familiar environment where he had spent so many focused hours preparing for this moment.
"How did it go out there?" Yunah asked as she finished organizing the pastry station for the morning prep team.
"Better than I could have imagined," Jake replied honestly.
His team finished their closing duties with the quiet satisfaction of professionals who knew they had performed at their peak. One by one, they gathered their personal belongings and headed home, each offering final congratulations to Jake before disappearing into the Seoul night.
Soon, Jake found himself alone in the kitchen, surrounded by the gleaming surfaces and organized stations that would tomorrow begin preparing for another service. The silence was profound after the controlled chaos of the evening, and Jake took a moment to simply breathe and process what had happened.
He was gathering his knife roll and messenger bag, preparing to make his own journey home, when he heard the soft sound of the kitchen doors opening behind him. Jake turned, expecting to see Manager Choi or perhaps one of his team members returning for something they had forgotten.
Instead, he found himself face to face with Heeseung once again, and the sight made his heart skip in a way that was becoming disturbingly familiar. The CEO had removed his suit jacket at some point during the evening, and his white dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, somehow made him look both more approachable and more captivating than before.
"I hope I'm not intruding," Heeseung said, his voice softer than it had been in the dining room, more intimate in the empty kitchen. "I wanted to speak with you privately before you left."
"Of course," Jake managed, setting down his bags and giving Heeseung his full attention. "Is there something you needed to discuss about tonight's service?"
Heeseung shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Tonight's service was perfect. Better than perfect, actually. What I wanted to discuss was this."
He stepped aside slightly, revealing that he had been carrying something behind his back, a stunning bouquet of flowers that took Jake's breath away. The bouquet looked like it belonged at a wedding, white, perfect, expensive. Jake had no idea what half the flowers were, but the smell hit him all the same, sweet and dizzying. The blooms seemed to glow in the kitchen's bright lighting, and their fragrance immediately filled the space with a sweetness that was both elegant and intoxicating.
"These are for you," Heeseung said, extending the bouquet toward Jake. "A small gift of appreciation for tonight."
Jake accepted the flowers with hands that trembled slightly, acutely aware of the way his fingers brushed against Heeseung's during the transfer. The bouquet was heavier than he had expected, clearly expensive and thoughtfully arranged by someone who understood both botanical beauty and symbolic meaning.
"They're beautiful," Jake said, bringing the flowers closer to inhale their fragrance. The scent of roses was strongest, sweet and clean with subtle undertones. "You didn't need to do this. Tonight was already more than I could have hoped for."
"I knew you would create something special here," Heeseung said, his dark eyes fixed on Jake's face. "From the moment I learned about your work, I knew you were exactly what the Magnolia needed. Tonight simply confirmed what I already believed about your talents."
There was something in Heeseung's tone that made Jake curious about the depth of research the CEO had conducted into his background. But before he could formulate a question, Heeseung was speaking again.
"You have a gift, Chef Sim. Not just for cooking, but also for bringing people together."
The genuine warmth and admiration in Heeseung's voice made Jake feel like he might float away. Professional praise was rewarding, but this felt personal, as if Heeseung saw something in him that went beyond his culinary skills.
"I hope this is just the beginning," Jake found himself saying, surprising himself with his boldness. "I hope I can continue to meet your expectations."
Heeseung's smile in response was radiant, transforming his already perfect features into something that seemed to emit its own light. "I have no doubt that you will exceed every expectation, just as you did tonight."
They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, Jake cradling the beautiful bouquet while Heeseung watched him with an expression Jake couldn't quite decipher.
"I should let you get home," Heeseung said finally, though he seemed as reluctant to end the moment as Jake felt. "You've had a long day, and you deserve to rest."
Jake nodded, though part of him wanted to find reasons to extend this conversation. "Thank you again. For everything. For the opportunity, for believing in me, for these beautiful flowers. I don't know how to express how grateful I am."
“Seeing you pull this off, that’s enough thanks for me." Heeseung replied.
With that, Heeseung moved toward the kitchen doors, but he paused before leaving, turning back to look at Jake one more time.
"Sleep well, Chef Sim."
And then he was gone, leaving Jake standing alone in the empty kitchen, his arms full of fragrant flowers.