Chapter 6

LISA POV: 

Lisa had not meant to survive the morning by becoming accidentally useful.

That had not been the plan.

The original plan had been:

1. show up
2, annoy Jennie a little
3. survive the cameras
4. leave with minimal emotional damage

Instead, she had somehow:

* bought Jennie coffee
* made Jennie laugh twice
* canceled a press interview
* nearly died during photo ops
* and almost had a moment on a terrace like some kind of deeply embarrassing indie romance victim

Which was objectively terrible.

Because the more time Lisa spent around Jennie in close proximity, the more obvious one extremely inconvenient truth became:

Jennie was not hard to like. She was hard to get close to.

Different problem. Much worse, actually.

Because liking someone difficult at least gave you the dignity of being right.

Liking someone who was secretly soft under twelve layers of sarcasm and control issues?

That was how you ended up making terrible life choices on purpose.

And Lisa had enough bad instincts already.

She stood near the elevator lobby while Jennie spoke to one of the event staff about scheduling.

Or, more accurately, stared them into efficiency.

It was honestly kind of impressive.

Jennie had this thing where she could say “thank you” and still make people feel like they needed to apologize.

Powerful.

A little scary.

Very attractive.

Lisa looked away before her own thoughts could get worse.

Too late.

They were already worse.

Her phone buzzed again.

A message from Rosé.

Rosé:

 heard ur engaged. insane

Rosé:

is this a hostage situation

Rosé:

blink twice if u need extraction

Lisa snorted quietly.

Of course Rosé already knew.

Information traveled through rich circles like a disease.

She typed back quickly.

Lisa: 

worse.

Lisa:

i had breakfast with cameras.

Lisa: 

Jennie threatened me 6 times before noon.

Rosé replied almost instantly.

Rosé:

oh so basically foreplay.

Lisa nearly choked on absolutely nothing.

She stared at the screen in horror.

Then immediately looked up to make sure Jennie had not somehow psychically seen the message over her shoulder from across the room.

Jennie was still occupied.

Good.

Lisa typed furiously.

Lisa:

go to hell

i’m blocking u spiritually

Rosé: 

sure

but are u into it

Lisa locked her phone without answering.

Because absolutely not.

Also maybe slightly.

Which was irrelevant.

And none of Rosé’s business.

Jennie finished with the staff member and walked back toward her.

Lisa tried to act normal.

This was made significantly harder by the fact that Jennie still looked unfairly good and slightly tired in a way that made Lisa want to hand her a blanket and stay by her side.

Deeply concerning instinct.

“Ready?” Jennie asked.

Lisa blinked.

“Ready for what.”

Jennie stared.

“To leave?”

“Oh.”

Lisa nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Right. Leaving. Love that.”

Jennie narrowed her eyes.

“You’re being weird.”

Lisa put a hand to her chest. “Me? Never.”

Jennie looked unconvinced.

Reasonable.

Lisa held the elevator door when it opened.

Jennie stepped in.

Lisa followed.

And for one brief, stupid moment, it was just them again.

Small space.

No cameras.

No relatives.

No fake smiling.

Just a quiet elevator humming downward while Jennie stood beside her looking at the floor indicator like it had personally offended her.

Lisa should’ve stayed quiet.

She knew that.

She really did.

Instead, she said, “You handled today better than I thought you would.”

Jennie turned slowly. “That sounds like an insult.”

“It’s not.”

“It sounds like one.” Jennie said.

Lisa leaned back against the elevator wall. “It’s a compliment with bad delivery.”

Jennie looked at her for a second.

Then crossed her arms. “Your delivery is always bad.”

“Untrue. My timing is excellent.” Lisa said,

Jennie’s mouth twitched. Very small.

But Lisa saw it. And immediately became insufferable.

“There,” she said softly. “That almost looked like affection.”

Jennie’s expression flattened instantly.

“There it goes.”

Lisa laughed.

The elevator stopped. Doors opened. They stepped out into the private parking level.

And Lisa was just about to say something else annoying when she heard a familiar voice behind them.

“Jennie.”

Lisa turned.

And instantly felt ennoyed .

Because standing near the black SUV by was none then Minho Park.

Tall. Clean-cut. Designer coat. Family friend. Investment heir. Professional pain in the ass.

And apparently—

apparently—

looking directly at Jennie like she had been handcrafted by God and bad decisions.

Oh.

Oh, absolutely not.

Jennie stopped beside Lisa and blinked.

“Minho?”

Minho smiled and walked toward them.

And Lisa noticed it instantly.

The way he straightened a little when Jennie looked at him.

The way his whole face changed.

The way he was very obviously trying to seem casual and failing in a way that made Lisa immediately, irritated.

Amazing.

A new nightmare.

“There you are,” Minho said, but not to Lisa.

To Jennie.

Wonderful.

Lisa folded her arms.

Minho finally glanced at her like he had just remembered she existed.

“Lisa.”

“Minho.”

Jennie looked between them.

Then back at Minho.

“You were at the event?”

“Briefly,” he said, still looking at her. “I was trying to find you upstairs.”

Lisa’s eye twitched.

find her?

Interesting.

Jennie looked mildly confused. “Why?”

Minho laughed once, awkward and overly polished.

“To congratulate you.”

Jennie blinked. “Oh.”

Lisa could actually feel herself getting meaner in real time.

Because the problem wasn’t just that Minho liked Jennie.

The problem was that Jennie, standing there in her fitted black dress and sharp little blazer and tired expensive face, was being weirdly nice about it.

Not flirty.

Just… polite.

And somehow that was worse.

Because Jennie being accidentally charming without trying should have been illegal.

“Congrats,” Minho said, glancing between them before settling on Jennie again. “I didn’t expect this.”

Jennie gave him a small, perfectly mannered smile.

“Neither did I.”

Lisa stared at the side of her face.

Then at him.

And for some reason, something ugly and stupid twisted in her chest.

Not anger.

Not exactly.

More like—

a deeply embarrassing urge to physically put herself between them like a territorial house cat with emotional problems.

Which was insane. She was not doing that obviously .

She was an adult.

A highly functional adult. With self-respect.

Probably.

Minho looked at Jennie again.

“You looked good up there, by the way.”

Lisa went still.

Jennie blinked once. “Oh. Thanks?”

No.

No no no.

Lisa smiled.

A dangerous smile.

“Wow,” she said lightly. “Bold.”

Both of them turned to look at her.

Minho frowned. “What?”

Lisa shrugged. “Nothing. Just interesting timing to compliment my fiancée in a parking lot.”

Minho looked offended. “I was being polite.”

Lisa smiled wider.

“Sure.”

Jennie looked between them, immediately sensing the tension and, instead of helping like a normal person, somehow making it worse by going suspiciously quiet.

Which meant she was observing. Which meant she was going to remember this.

Minho turned back to Jennie like Lisa was a temporary trouble.

Terrible choice.

“I just meant,” he said, “you handled the press really well.”

Jennie gave a tiny nod. “Thanks.”

Lisa wanted to launch him in a moment.

Because now he was doing that thing.

That rich-man thing.

Where they spoke to women like they were trying to position themselves as “safe” and “impressed” and “available” all at once.

And maybe Lisa would’ve been normal about it if it were anyone else.

But it wasn’t anyone else.

It was Jennie.

And Jennie was standing next to her.

Jennie, who had accepted coffee from her.

Jennie, who had texted her die twice in under twelve hours.

That was basically intimacy.

Minho smiled again.

“I was actually hoping to ask if—”

“No,” Lisa said immediately.

Silence.

Jennie turned so fast Lisa almost admired it.

Minho blinked. “I didn’t even finish.”

“You were going to ask her something annoying,” Lisa said.

Jennie stared at her.

Minho looked genuinely baffled now. “How would you know?”

Lisa tilted her head.

“I’m good at reding people .”

Jennie made a sound that was dangerously close to a laugh.

Traitor.

Minho ignored her and looked at Jennie again.

“I was going to ask if you’d maybe want to have coffee sometime. Just to catch up.”

And there it was.

The full spiritual violation.

Jennie blinked.

Lisa smiled so hard it started feeling clinically unsafe.

Because okay.

Sure.

Fine.

This should not matter.

This should absolutely not matter.

Jennie was fake-engaged to Lisa for business.

Not actually unavailable.

Not actually hers.

And yet Lisa’s first thought was still:

That’s crazy. He should die.

Which was not healthy.

At all.

Jennie, to her credit, looked more confused than flattered.

“With me?” she asked.

Minho smiled. “Yes.”

Lisa turned away and looked at the ceiling of the parking lot because if she kept looking at him she might become a headline.

Jennie glanced sideways at Lisa.

Lisa could feel it.

She did not look back.

Absolutely not.

Nope.

Jennie said carefully, “That feels… inappropriate.”

Minho looked caught off guard. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did,” Lisa said flatly.

“Lisa,” Jennie said.

“What?”

Jennie gave her a look.

Lisa lifted both hands. “What? He literally did.”

Minho looked annoyed now.

“Why are you acting like this?”

Lisa laughed once.

A short, sharp little thing with no joy in it whatsoever.

“Acting like what.”

“Possessive,” Minho said before he could stop himself.

And the entire parking lot emotionally exploded.

Silence.

Total silence.

Jennie’s head turned slowly toward Lisa.

Lisa’s brain left her body.

Minho looked like he instantly regretted being alive.

And Lisa—

Lisa wanted the earth to split open and take her directly to hell where she belonged.

Because unfortunately?

That had landed way too close to the truth.

Jennie was still staring at her.

And Lisa, because she was a deeply unserious person in moments of crisis, said the worst possible thing:

“I prefer the term correct.”

Jennie made a noise that was either disbelief or a laugh being violently suppressed.

Minho just stared.

Lisa smiled tightly.

Because what else was she supposed to do?

Admit that yes, actually, seeing another person look at Jennie like that had made her want to become a menace?

No.

Absolutely not.

That information would die with her.

Jennie crossed her arms.

And when she spoke, her voice was cool, but there was something under it.

Something sharper.

More aware.

“Minho,” she said, “I think this conversation is over.”

Minho blinked. “Jennie, I—”

“No,” she said, still calm. “It’s over.”

And that was it.

Done.

Final.

Ice-cold.

Lisa almost blacked out a little.

Because Jennie had not even entertained it.

Not really.

Not for a second.

Minho looked between them one last time, clearly realizing he had somehow walked into a deeply weird situation he did not understand.

Which, fair.

Then he nodded stiffly.

“Right. Congratulations again.”

Jennie gave a polite smile.

“Thank you.”

Lisa nodded once, already done with his entire bloodline.

Minho finally left.

And the second he disappeared around the concrete pillar, the silence returned.

Jennie adjusted the strap of her bag.

Lisa looked at the floor. Then the wall. Then absolutely anywhere except Jennie.

Because she knew. She knew exactly what was coming. And she had no defense.

Jennie turned to her and said, very calmly: “…Did you just cockblock me?”

Lisa blinked.

“What.”

Jennie stared.

“You heard me.”

Lisa looked deeply offended.

“I did not cockblock you.”

Jennie lifted a brow.

“You interrupted him three times.”

“He was annoying.”

“He was flirting.”

“Exactly.”

Jennie stared at her for a second.

Then another.

Then her eyes narrowed.

“Why do you care?”

Lisa’s heart immediately committed a felony.

Because wow.

Horrible question.

Very unfair question, actually.

She recovered just enough to shrug.

“I don’t.”

Jennie looked unconvinced.

Reasonable.

Lisa crossed her arms too now, because if she was going down, she was at least going down with posture.

“I just didn’t trust his vibe.”

Jennie blinked slowly.

“His vibe.”

“Yes.”

“You sabotaged a grown man because of his vibe.”

Lisa nodded once.

“Correct.”

Jennie stared at her.

Then, to Lisa’s complete emotional devastation, laughed.

Actually laughed.

A real one.

Short, bright, and entirely at Lisa’s expense.

Lisa narrowed her eyes.

“Why are you laughing.”

Jennie shook her head, still smiling a little.

“You’re insane.”

Lisa relaxed instantly.

“Probably.”

Jennie looked at her for another second.

Then said, almost too casually:

“You were jealous.”

Lisa nearly aspirated oxygen.

“No, I wasn’t.”

Jennie tilted her head.

“You kind of were.”

“I was not.”

“You absolutely were.”

Lisa looked away.

Which was a tactical error.

Because now she could feel Jennie watching her.

And Jennie, apparently deciding she had not suffered enough today, stepped just slightly closer.

Not much.

Barely anything.

Still enough to ruin lives.

“Were you?” Jennie asked.

Quietly.

Too quietly.

Lisa looked back at her. And there it was again.

That thing.

That awful, impossible thing where the air changed for no reason except Jennie was looking at her too directly.

Too knowingly.

Too much.

Lisa swallowed.

Then smiled, because humor was the only defense mechanism she had left.

“If I was,” she said lightly, “that sounds like your problem.”

Jennie stared at her.

Then let out a short breath through her nose like she was trying not to smile again.

“Unbelievable.”

Lisa grinned.

“Yet compelling.”

Jennie rolled her eyes and turned toward the car.

Lisa followed, smiling to herself like an idiot.

Because okay.

Fine.

Maybe she had just publicly embarrassed herself in front of a finance-adjacent man and the woman she was fake-engaged to.

But also?

Jennie had turned him down.

And Lisa was choosing not to unpack how much she liked that.

Because she valued what remained of her mental stability.

The drive back to Jennie’s apartment should have been normal.

Quiet, maybe.

Maybe slightly awkward after the Minho incident.

Instead, it somehow turned into the most domestic forty minutes of Lisa’s life.

Which was horrifying.

It started when Jennie took off her heels in the passenger seat and muttered, “If I die because of these shoes, tell people I was brave.”

Lisa glanced down once and nearly drove into a moral crisis.

Because Jennie barefoot in her car should not have been that distracting.

It should not have done that to her nervous system.

It absolutely should not have made Lisa immediately want to buy a second pair of emergency flats and keep them in the back seat for future use.

That was insane behavior.

She needed to get a grip.

“Duly noted,” Lisa said, forcing her eyes back on the road.

Jennie sank lower into the seat.

“I hate all of this.”

“Mm.”

“No, seriously. I need you to understand how much I hate all of this.”

Lisa smiled slightly.

“I know.”

Jennie turned to look at her.

“And yet you keep smiling like a freak.”

Lisa shrugged.

“You’re entertaining under stress.”

Jennie stared.

“That’s a terrible thing to say to someone.”

“It’s true.”

Jennie looked away, but Lisa caught the edge of a smile.

Very small.

Still there. Win.

Then Jennie’s stomach growled.

Loudly.

Lisa went very still for half a second.

Jennie froze too.

Then, slowly, she turned her head toward the window and said, with dignity hanging by a thread:

“No one heard that.”

Lisa gripped the steering wheel harder.

“I heard nothing.”

Jennie nodded once.

“Good.”

Two seconds of silence.

Then Lisa made the fatal mistake of smiling.

Jennie saw it immediately.

“If you laugh, I’m opening this door.”

Lisa lost it.

Not dramatically. Just enough.

Jennie turned to her, horrified.

“This is why I can’t take you anywhere.”

Lisa laughed harder.

Jennie folded her arms and looked out the window like she was filing for emotional divorce.

And somehow, in the middle of all this ridiculousness, Lisa had one very stupid thought:

This is nice.

Not the fake engagement.

Not the families.

Not the cameras.

Just… this.

Jennie in her passenger seat being mean and exhausted and weirdly comfortable enough to take her shoes off and threaten her with casual violence.

It felt dangerously easy.

Dangerously good.

Which meant it would absolutely ruin her if she let it.

So naturally, she let it continue.

“Are you hungry?” Lisa asked after a minute.

Jennie turned back slowly.

“That depends.”

“On what.”

“On whether you’re about to suggest some horrible overpriced health café with minimalist furniture and emotional eggs.”

Lisa stared.

“Emotional eggs?”

“You know exactly the kind of place I mean.”

Lisa laughed again.

“I was going to say food truck.”

Jennie blinked.

“A what.”

“A food truck.”

Jennie looked at her like she’d just admitted to recreational arson.

“You eat food truck food?”

Lisa frowned. “You say that like I lick batteries for fun.”

Jennie was still staring.

Lisa rolled her eyes.

“Relax. It’s a good one.”

Jennie narrowed hers.

“This feels like a setup.”

“It’s not.”

“You’re taking me somewhere with folding chairs, aren’t you.”

Lisa smiled.

“Maybe.”

Jennie made a face.

“No.”

Lisa glanced at her. “No?”

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard the menu.”

“I don’t need to. The words food truck already made me spiritually itchy.”

Lisa laughed under her breath.

“God, you’re high maintenance.”

Jennie turned sharply.

“I am not high maintenance.”

Lisa gave her a look.

Jennie sat up straighter.

“I’m selectively refined.”

Lisa nearly drove off the road laughing.

Jennie gasped.

“You are so rude.”

“Selectively refined?” Lisa repeated.

“It’s true!”

“That’s the funniest thing you’ve ever said.”

Jennie looked offended.

Then more offended when Lisa kept laughing.

Then, eventually, very quietly:

“…I’m still not eating from a truck.”

Lisa smiled all the way to Jennie’s building.

When they pulled up outside her apartment, Jennie put her heels back on like she was preparing for battle.

Lisa watched from the driver’s seat with the kind of focus that would have gotten her diagnosed if anyone had seen it.

Jennie caught her looking.

“Why are you staring.”

Lisa blinked.

“I wasn’t.”

Jennie gave her a look.

“You do that thing where you lie badly.”

Lisa frowned. “I lie very well.”

“No. You’re just charming enough that people let you get away with it.”

Lisa stared.

That was… weirdly accurate.

Jennie reached for the door handle, then paused.

She looked at Lisa for one second.

Then said, like it physically hurt her:

“…Thanks.”

Lisa blinked.

“For what.”

Jennie looked away immediately.

“For not making today worse.”

Lisa went very still.

Because okay.

That shouldn’t have done that much damage.

It was just a thank you.

A small one.

A grumpy one.

Barely even delivered properly.

And yet.

Something in Lisa’s chest went warm and stupid anyway.

She smiled before she could stop herself.

Jennie saw it and instantly looked annoyed again.

“Don’t make it weird.”

Lisa held up a hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jennie narrowed her eyes like she did not trust that statement even slightly.

Reasonable.

Then she opened the door.

Halfway out, she paused again.

Didn’t look back.

And said, “Be on time tonight.”

Lisa blinked.

Then smiled slowly.

“Are you inviting me to dinner, Jennie?”

Jennie turned her head just enough to give her a flat look.

“I’m threatening you with punctuality.”

Lisa grinned.

“Cute.”

Jennie got out and slammed the door.

Lisa laughed to herself as she watched Jennie walk into the building lobby without looking back.

Only when the doors closed behind her did Lisa finally exhale.

Then she dropped her forehead lightly against the steering wheel.

“This is bad,” she muttered to absolutely no one.

Because it was.

So bad.

Worse than bad.

Catastrophic, maybe.

Because Jennie was supposed to be a problem Lisa survived for business reasons.

Not someone she started memorizing in tiny pieces.

The way she rolled her eyes before she smiled.

The way her voice changed when she got tired.

The way she said thank you like it was classified information.

That was dangerous.

Lisa knew it was dangerous.

And yet—

when her phone buzzed again with a new message, she grabbed it immediately.

Jennie:

if u are late tonight i’ll tell everyone u cried during the toast

Lisa stared at the screen.

Then laughed.

Then typed back:

Lisa:

wow
blackmail already
marriage would look good on us

Three dots appeared.

Then:

Jennie:

die.

Lisa smiled so hard it was embarrassing.

And because she clearly had not suffered enough today, she leaned back in the driver’s seat and thought, with complete stupidity:

Yeah. I’m screwed.

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end of this chapter 

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