Diamond Dust - 9

I might be jumping to conclusions, but I had a strong suspicion about who the owner might be.

There was still a short distance to Phantom, but I decided to stop the taxi in front of a small, traditional Korean-style cafe.

After parking the car in the small parking lot in front of the main entrance, which could accommodate about four or five cars, the person who got out was, as expected, the representative of Phantom.

Wearing a shirt with a wide collar and a slim suit that revealed the strong root of his long neck, his hair fell in light waves as he stepped out of the car.

The man in the cobalt blue suit, which was slightly darker than his eye color (though he was wearing sunglasses at the moment), looked even more flamboyant than yesterday, yet more relaxed. His outfit reminded me of Italian men on a weekend picnic, stylish but not overly formal.

“It’s too nice of a day. To be cooped up in a gallery with no windows, just putting on a social smile… You really owe me a fancy meal.”

“Am I doing this just for my own benefit? Stop whining.”

A man from the passenger seat got out and grumbled at him, and the representative responded firmly. The man in the passenger seat, also wearing dark sunglasses, was tall and well-built but clearly Korean.

As I hesitated at the entrance, unsure whether to go in before them or wait for them to enter first, their gaze turned toward me. I nodded briefly in greeting.

“I don’t recognize you. Who are you? The new lover?”

The man in the passenger seat, who seemed more welcoming than the representative, openly showed his interest with this blunt question. The representative frowned immediately at the question.

“Had there been a lover, then it would be a new lover.”

“Isn’t Lau Wiqun supposed to be the sweet lover who treats anyone in bed like a precious partner?”

The man’s teasing question made the representative scoff with a smirk. Although it was a scoff, it seemed like he actually found it amusing.

“Who’s been spreading rumors about me being sweet?”

He handed the keys to the valet parking attendant, who had been temporarily hired for the day, and tucked his sunglasses into the pocket of his jacket while adding,

“So, that new person didn’t sleep with me.”

A smile still lingered at the corners of his mouth, but it didn’t seem sincere. It was a smile that seemed to enjoy the fact that he had caught someone in a weak spot rather than being offended by the rudeness.

There was about ten steps of distance between us. As I considered whether to go in before they did, I reminded myself that he was the owner of the place I was working at.

“So, you’re saying it’s not a lover?”

The man from the passenger seat, who came around the front bumper and lightly rubbed his shoulder, took off his sunglasses and looked at me while biting the end of his leg, asked once more.

This man, although quite handsome with good proportions, didn’t have the same otherworldly quality as the representative. At least, he seemed to be a person like me, albeit with better looks and a more refined appearance.

“By now, shouldn’t you have figured out my taste?”

The representative, sighing as if the conversation was tiresome, spoke with his hands in his pants pockets.

“Just a part-timer.”

Finally, he revealed that I was a part-timer, the identity the man in the passenger seat had been curious about from the beginning.

It was a sunny afternoon in May, with sunlight spilling everywhere, making sunglasses a necessity. Since they were facing away from the sun, I had to squint to look at them.

“Really?”

The man in the passenger seat immediately smiled brightly and approached me, extending his hand for a handshake.

“Hello. It was a bit awkward talking right in front of you on our first meeting. I hadn’t heard about a part-timer at Phantom, but I might also consider working here.”

“Hello. I’m just helping out temporarily today.”

While we exchanged awkward handshakes, the representative walked toward the main entrance. He placed a hand lightly on my back to lead me toward the entrance, and the man from the passenger seat showed interest in the paper bag I was holding.

“Oh, what a pity. What’s that? Is it heavy? Let me carry it for you.”

“It’s just a book.”

I hadn’t made any jokes, but the man laughed so hard that he threw his head back.

When I entered the gallery, only a few steps behind the representative, the opening had already started. Soft music filled the first and second floors, and there was a lively buzz coming from upstairs.

With a parting greeting of “See you later,” the man from the passenger seat quickly followed the representative up the ivory-colored stairs.

The back of the two men, well-dressed in high-quality suits, climbing the marble stairs looked quite impressive. However, one was too complex, and the other was too simple. This wasn’t about their essence but rather their intuitive appearance.

Both were people living in a world unrelated to mine.

After leaving the book at the office, I hurried up to the second floor. It seemed that more than half of the 50 VIP guests who had RSVP’d were already there. As I had heard, they were quite a flashy crowd.

A bit of noisy pleasantries was taking place around the newly arrived representative and the man from the passenger seat. I could also see the teachers and Yuni dealing with small groups of people.

Juhan was manning the temporary desk.

“How did it go?”

“I left it in Manager’s bag in the office.”

Juhan widened his eyes for a moment and then gave me a light tap on the arm while smiling.

“This person is more meticulous than he looks.”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should take it as a compliment, and then just gave a vague smile.

The event had not yet officially started. People were more busy finding familiar faces and exchanging greetings than appreciating the artwork. The area around the representative was the most lively.

“We invited about 50 VIPs, but each of them can bring two or three guests. They could become new clients. Even though it’s not yet 3:30, we already have over thirty attendees, so it’s a pretty good start for today.”

Juhan assessed the situation after skimming through the guest list file.

In the hall right in front of the stairs, a long buffet table was set up against a railing overlooking the first-floor lobby. Simple finger foods and desserts, arranged with floral decorations, were laid out on a tablecloth that reached the floor. Catering staff in uniforms moved between the elegantly dressed guests, serving food and refilling champagne glasses.

The party had a relatively relaxed atmosphere rather than being stiff. On our temporary desk, which Juhan and I were in charge of, a few drinks and light snacks were also set up for us.

I first grabbed a bottle of water with a strange label to quench my thirst.

“The people here are responsible for more than 70 percent of our gallery’s sales. These people really have an eye for art, and they don’t just come here to enjoy a cup of tea and look at paintings as a small pleasure in their busy schedules.”

Chewing on a bite-sized sandwich, Juhan leaned a bit closer to me.

“Do you see that person with the wide-brimmed hat? He just arrived.”

Following Juhan’s gaze, I easily spotted a man ascending the stairs with two attendants.

“That’s the magazine editor who wrote the book Ihyun bought.”

The man, in his late 40s, was shorter and had a plump white face with expressive features. He greeted the representative with a French cheek kiss, indicating they were quite close.

“Kun, congratulations on the opening. Why are you so busy? I can hardly see your face.”

The representative, guiding the somewhat disappointed man into the inner exhibition area, smiled gently. He was undoubtedly handsome, and his smile was impressive, though somewhat mechanical. After all, this was work for him, so it wasn’t fair to criticize.

“‘Monsieur’ is a fashion magazine published by a powerful company that’s a subsidiary of a large corporation. The editor isn’t just any editor but has familial connections to the group. It’s like being in-laws, but still not to be ignored.”

Juhan poured champagne into a slender glass and swallowed his sandwich.

The temporary desk was quite empty due to the busy customers greeting each other and being introduced to new people. No one came to pick up a pamphlet.

“We focus more on fashion, lifestyle, and luxury magazines rather than art magazines. Honestly, the gallery scene in Korea is saturated. A gallery doesn’t need certification; if you have money, you can open one, and there are countless galleries of all sizes. Naturally, many don’t last a few years before closing. Though it may appear sophisticated with its talk of unique painting styles and artistic messages, the competition here is fierce. If you start a gallery just to flaunt a business card with the title of gallery owner, you’ll be quickly pushed out by those who are determined to succeed. It’s obvious that established large galleries have considerable power. With a small market, there’s no room to squeeze in.”

After saying this, Juhan seemed to choke up and patted his chest. I offered him my share of the champagne. With a grateful glance, Juhan downed the glass in one go and then grabbed a cookie.

Today, Juhan had a chain connecting his lip piercing and ear piercing. Although it seemed uncomfortable to drink or eat with, Juhan appeared very at ease, as if it had become a part of him.

“So our representative decided to attract customers who had never spent money on art before.”

After hearing this, I began to understand why the gallery’s main clients were from the fashion and entertainment industries.

“This market is almost based on social connections, so it’s not just about going to a gallery with a painting you like and buying it. Bringing in clients who already deal with other galleries is incredibly difficult, so we targeted people who have money but haven’t bought much art.”

Juhan made a gesture with his thumb and index finger forming a circle, indicating money.

“The result, as you can see, is a big success. We even moved to a building in Samcheong-dong.”

Juhan shrugged lightly, as if it were no big deal or perhaps with a touch of pride. He finished off the remaining piece of cookie in his mouth.