Chapter 8: Steam Room Diplomacy and Mr. Tuffi
The traditional spa in Gangnam was the epitome of luxury, but for Mr. Kim, it felt more like an execution ground. While Min-ho sat like a brooding king on the wooden bench, a towel wrapped perfectly around his waist, Mr. Kim stood beside him, stiff as a board in his bathrobe, clutching his fogged-up tablet like a shield.
"Mr. Lukas," Kim croaked as the steam rose around him. "I'm really not sure if this counts as official working hours. There are no precedents in my contract for... for group sauna sessions."
Lukas, already stretched out elegantly on the top bench looking like a Greek god who had accidentally wandered into Korea, laughed brightly. "Relax, Tuffi! In Europe, the best deals are made in the sauna. It opens the pores and the heart."
"Tuffi?" Min-ho repeated, incredulous. He stared at Lukas as if he had just uttered a national insult.
"Yes, Tuffi!" Lukas confirmed enthusiastically, sitting up. "Look, Mr. Tuffi, your glasses are completely fogged up. Let me help you..." Before Kim could react, Lukas had slid off the bench and was standing directly in front of him. With tender precision, he took the glasses off Kim's nose and polished them with a corner of his towel. "Such a handsome face under all that glass. And tell me... have you been working out in secret? I already noticed that excellent calf musculature yesterday while you were folding napkins."
Mr. Kim turned so red he nearly blended in with the color of the glowing sauna stones. He was completely overwhelmed by the physical proximity and the fact that an international model was currently analyzing his calves. "I-I... I take the stairs at the office," he stammered, trying not to stare at Lukas's bare chest.
Min-ho cleared his throat loudly. He had no patience for Lukas's conquests. He needed information. "Lukas. Focus. We are here to talk. About Ji-soo. About Paris. Why did she leave so suddenly?"
Lukas shot Min-ho a look that wavered between boredom and pity. He put the glasses back on Kim's nose, "accidentally" brushing his cheek in the process. "Oh, Big Boss. You're so exhausting. Ji-soo needs her freedom. She's like a rare flower—you can't squeeze her too hard, or she'll lose her petals. Just like my Tiffany."
"I don't want botanical metaphors!" Min-ho hissed. "I want to know how long she's staying in Paris. And why she reacted so strangely when Kim mentioned the photo of Ariadne. Do they know each other better than she admits?"
Lukas sighed theatrically and turned back to Mr. Kim, who was trying to make himself invisible. "Don't listen to him, Mr. Tuffi. He has no romance in his blood. Tell me more about your daily routine instead. Do you always have to wear such stiff ties? I think silk would suit your complexion much better."
"Sir..." Kim whispered toward Min-ho, desperately trying to plan an escape. "I think I need to step out. My circulation... the heat... and Mr. Lukas..."
"No way, Tuffi stays here!" Lukas decided, slinging an arm around Kim's shoulders, which sent the assistant into a state of near-catatonic shock.
Min-ho clenched his fists. He was the most powerful producer in the country, but here, in a cloud of eucalyptus steam, he was being cold-bloodedly ignored. Lukas only had eyes for "Mr. Tuffi." Min-ho realized he couldn't squeeze any hard facts out of Lukas as long as he was busy seducing the shyest assistant in the world.
"She's in Paris to protect Ariadne," Lukas finally said, almost casually, while sniffing at Kim's earlobe. "Because Ariadne would be lost without her. But if you really want to know what Ji-soo feels... then you should stop asking questions and start waiting. Now hush, Boss. I'm trying to teach Mr. Tuffi how to breathe properly."
Min-ho stared into the steam. He felt more powerless than ever. While Clara (alias Ji-soo) was on her way to Paris—or wherever she was truly fleeing—he was stuck here with a lovestruck model and an assistant on the verge of a total breakdown.