The next morning was Friday and Soojung slept in. When she woke up, her long-lasting irritation had faded considerably. She'd stayed up late, thinking about Sehun, and about Keera's advice, and finally decided that she just didn't want to be mad anymore. She was still firm on her plan to quit, but she needed to smooth things over with Seh so he could, maybe, be happy for her.

That, alone, would help make this easier for her to do.

While she was getting dressed after a rare, late-afternoon shower, she glanced at her bedside clock, which told her it was just past four pm. Sehun would probably be at Sugar, manning the counter or in the back kitchen fiddling with new recipes. She'd decided to go see him since he probably still wasn't in the mood to answer a phone call from her. 

She wasn't going to apologize, exactly—she just wanted to talk things over with him. Explain her reasoning. Knowing Sehun, it'd take a bit of effort, but he'd come around and see that this was best for her. 

Dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a satiny red button-up shirt and black slip-on ballet flats, she was almost out the door before she remembered her cell phone. Walking to the bathroom, she picked it up from where she'd left it during her shower and noticed she had a message. Clicking the key for her voicemail, she walked back to the living room, absently searching for her keys. But the voice in the message made her stop in her tracks.

"Hello Miss Jung, my name's Ginger Hallowell. I'm calling regarding your client, Sehun Oh..."

As the message continued, Soojung's heartbeat sped up and she was vaguely aware of her nails digging painfully into the palm of her left hand. Her breathing turned rapid and, by the time the message ended, her previous anger—with Jason—had returned with tripled intensity.

Snapping her phone closed, she spotted her keys on the arm of the couch and snatched them up. With a yank, she opened her apartment door and stormed out, all plans for reconciliation wiped from her mind by her current fury.

After that voicemail, if Sehun had thought she was pissed before, he hadn't seen anything. 

This time, she wouldn't even bother with killing him. She just wanted some damn answers.

********

Where the hell was she? 

Late Friday afternoon, Sehun was in his office at Sugar, once again staring at the damn wall, trying to figure out what was up with Soojung. She usually didn't stay mad this long. It'd been four days and he hadn't heard a damn thing from her. No phone calls, no e-mails, nothing. And he'd been constantly checking his Blackberry for the last two days. 

This whole thing with her had him so on edge that he couldn't even think straight. When he was working, he'd go from silently seething to snapping at the prep cooks and kitchen assistants in two seconds flat. It finally got to the point where he just kept out of the kitchen during the workday. Otherwise, he might have more employees than Soojung threatening to quit.

Why the hell couldn't she just call him? 

She always called him. He couldn't count how many times she'd been pissed off at him for one of a thousand reasons that he never really paid attention to; then, after one of those small arguments, she'd call or stop by and they'd both just get over being mad.

He couldn't understand why she was being so damn difficult. Okay, yeah, he'd pissed her off for some reason—whatever. She always got over it the other times, so what was different about now? 

He stared at his Blackberry like his irritation could force it to ring or something.

. He swiped both hands over his face. He knew what the difference was this time: their fight on Tuesday hadn't exactly been small. She'd been dead serious about quitting and he knew it.

A weird, queasy feeling lurched through his stomach and he clenched his fists, trying to force the uneasiness away. But it didn't work. He didn't want to admit it, or even think about it, but part of his anger on Tuesday came from anxiety. He was little scared. 

What if she was right? What if he really couldn't handle this without her? She'd been here, taking care of everything, practically from day one. Hell, everything he had now was because he'd been lucky enough to be accepted by the Jung family. But with Soojung gone, how could he be sure his career, his column in the Times, his show on K.I.R.A.—even Sugar—wouldn't disappear along with her quiet, dependable presence?

He needed her, even though he hated admitting it. Ever since his mom took off with his little sister, he'd kept himself at a distance from people. And , even though he'd come to love the Marshes like his own family, he'd always been too ing paranoid to think it'd last. Now, with Charlie and Nate gone, Soojung was all he had left. 

And he couldn't let her leave. Not until he knew he was ready, at least. 

An irritating little voice in his head kept telling him to pick up his phone, dial her number—hell, go see her—but he couldn't. He'd grown up cultivating an I-don't-give-a- attitude that had helped him survive before he'd met Charlie Jung. That kind of detachment was hard to shake sometimes.

That's why he kept most of his relationships casual—which is how his date tonight, with Stacey, that receptionist from PBS, was going to be. Right after he'd left Soojung standing outside his condo building on Tuesday, he'd called Stacey to set up a date for tonight. She'd agreed to meet him at Sugar right after she finished work so they could continue on to the Blue Room from there.

At the time, he hadn't really considered his reasons for calling Stacey beyond the fact that he was pissed off and needed some kind of distraction. But now, knowing she'd be there in less than an hour, he wanted to back out of the whole thing. She was cute and bubbly and, dear God, those s were absolutely mind-blowing, but he hadn't expected to still be this mad so long after that argument with Soojung. 

Usually, his anger flared hot, then cooled quickly, but now, even days later, it was all he could do to keep from calling Soojung and demanding to know where the hell she'd been since Tuesday. 

He stared at his cell phone where it sat silently next to his desk phone. He was still pissed off—in a terrible mood, actually—and he knew he'd probably be awful company for what's-her-name. The receptionist. Stacey.

He checked the clock on his Blackberry. 4:38 p.m. She got off work at five. He was cutting it close and she'd probably never speak to him again, but he knew he needed to cancel the date. All he wanted to do was go home. 

He'd just picked up his cell phone and started dialing Stacey's number when his office door flew open. His head jerked up and his eyes widened in surprise, only to narrow an instant later.

Then, taking in Soojung's form framed in the doorway, one thought flitted through his mind: It's about damn time.

But the first thing that came out of his mouth was, "Haven't you heard of knocking?"

*********

Soojung had stalked into Sugar twenty minutes after listening to that voicemail. The first thing she'd noticed was Sam behind the bar, chatting with two female customers. Like Sehun, Sam was gorgeous, but where Seh was big and solid looking, Sam had the long, lanky, but muscular, physique of a swimmer. As she approached him, she saw that even the two well-dressed women drooling over him weren't immune to his easy smile and quiet sensuality—and she couldn't blame them. With short, light brown hair, blue eyes and insanely full lips, Sam Wyatt was quite the delicious package of maleness. 

And at least he used his charm for good, unlike Seh.

Glancing up, Sam saw her