“Why are you suddenly asking about a boyfriend?”

Debbie tensed immediately. Gray had been particularly irritable lately—picking fights over trivial matters was standard, but he’d been especially critical of her last column, claiming it fell below standards.

When publication time approached and Debbie couldn’t produce another column, he reluctantly included it in the magazine. Despite his harsh criticism and near-burial of the piece, reader response had been surprisingly positive.

Fan letters ranged from questioning whether the column was meant to be comedic to praising how she tackled the heavy subject of workplace unpleasantness through black comedy. Debbie had been waiting to confront him about this, ready to argue that readers clearly enjoyed what he had nearly rejected.

But Gray had remained silent, and things had grown awkward between them recently.

“Why are you asking something like that?”

When Debbie responded, a mixture of complicated emotions crossed his face—an odd expression impossible to pinpoint. His earlobes turned red with embarrassment now that he actually had to speak.

Why on earth is he asking about boyfriends, and what’s with this silence?

Gray opened his mouth seemingly to say something, then firmly closed it again. Under a streetlight, a couple engaged in a deep kiss, writhing like intertwined snakes, until they noticed Debbie and Gray and scurried away into a darker alley.

“Do you have a boyfriend or not?”

Gray asked, stopping in front of the publishing house building. He couldn’t meet Debbie’s eyes and instead fidgeted with the door handle.

“Why are you hesitating so much just to ask that?”

Debbie snapped, unable to contain herself. Why would he ask such a question right after seeing a kissing couple?

“I thought it might be intruding on your privacy,” he muttered, pulling out his keys to unlock the publishing house door.

“What’s the problem with answering something so simple? No, I don’t have one.”

“Really, none?”

“I said no!”

She wasn’t in a mood to have a pleasant conversation with him yet. His nitpicking over her last column still stung too much.

“Why do you keep asking—”

Debbie started to respond irritably when suddenly a strange feeling came over her. Why was he avoiding eye contact and acting so shy? Could it be that he was asking about a boyfriend because he had feelings for her?

Her eyes widened in shock.

‘Why would the editor-in-chief be interested in me? No. That can’t be it. Absolutely not. There’s been nothing between us that could possibly lead to romantic feelings.’

Debbie desperately tried to deny this possibility.

Gray spoke with an awkward expression. “It’s because of your column, right? Having to stay out late like this instead of going home.”

Debbie gave him a sidelong glance.

Since when did you care so much?

She entered the darkened publishing house, grumbling internally.

“I never intended for you to conduct research so late at night,” Gray said, closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry I didn’t consider that aspect.”

Debbie glanced back at him as she walked into the office through the darkness. Given his usual attitude of constantly demanding manuscripts, she couldn’t understand why he was suddenly apologizing.

“For what?”

A small light illuminated the office—a magical lamp. Though small in size, it was an extraordinarily expensive item. Debbie always felt amazed seeing magical artifacts from the old era, even though she knew the publishing house was wealthy.

“I should have considered that during your research, unpleasant situations might arise where you’d need protection.”

Debbie pursed her lips at Gray’s words. “You’re only realizing this now?”

He took off his coat and hung it on a nearby coat rack. “Next time, ask me to accompany you when you’re doing research.”

“What?”

Debbie was about to sit at her desk when she looked up at him in surprise.

“It would be difficult to cover bodyguard expenses out of your own pocket. So take me with you instead.”

‘Oh no. Does he really have feelings for me?’

Debbie felt dizzy. There’s nothing about me that would attract the editor-in-chief… why on earth? Her eyes wavered.

She had no particularly pleasant memories with Gray, so his apparent attempt to spend more time with her under the pretext of her not having a boyfriend felt extremely uncomfortable.

‘I was just being nice to him because I felt sorry that Henrietta dumped him. Surely he hasn’t fallen for me.’

No way. Absolutely not. It can’t be. Debbie imagined Gray using her single status as an excuse to get closer until one day they suddenly became a couple.

She pictured herself having to treat him with deference everywhere they went, with him finding fault in everything she did.

‘Ugh. Just imagining it makes me want to throw up.’

Oblivious to her thoughts, Gray continued, “I also bear responsibility for assigning you that column.”

Debbie narrowed her eyes. As far as anyone knew publicly, the column consisted of Debbie’s interviews, but the secret that she actually experienced the content firsthand had never been revealed to anyone.

When he mentioned the column and responsibility with such a concerned expression, she felt a pang of worry.

‘Could he have figured out that the column content comes from my actual experiences?’

He was unnecessarily perceptive, somehow managing all his work despite coming in late.

‘Going around with Gray! He’ll discover the secret behind my column. This is like a bolt from the blue! It was shocking!’

She feared both his subtle attempt to assume a boyfriend role and the possibility that he might uncover the truth about her column.

“I… I prefer going alone!” Debbie stammered, too shocked to speak clearly.

“I’m concerned you might need help in dangerous moments like tonight,” he said, rubbing his forehead with a long sigh. “Today, seeing Miss Debbie Jones standing alone among drunk people made me reconsider things.”

Gray loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He looked extremely tired and somehow deflated.

“This isn’t like you, Editor-in-Chief. What do you mean by ‘reconsider’?”

Hearing this, Gray crossed his legs, sank back into his chair, and let out another long sigh.

“I can reconsider things too. After all, I’m the one who forced you to sign those harsh terms.”

Perhaps the night had made him sentimental, allowing his hidden conscience to resurface. 

Come to think of it, Gray did smell of alcohol. Reconsideration. It seemed like a word completely incompatible with Gray. Maybe drinking alcohol when he usually didn’t had softened his emotions.

“Oh… really?”

Debbie forced a trembling smile. Whenever she had resisted doing something she didn’t want to do, hadn’t he always silenced her opinions by invoking their contract, using the power of authority and money?

And yet he scrutinized her manuscripts so meticulously, editing and refining sentences until she became confused about their very identity.

“You said you don’t have a boyfriend. So there shouldn’t be any misunderstandings if I accompany you on your research from now on.”

Ugh! You yourself are creating misunderstandings.

“That’s alright. You’re busy, Editor-in-Chief.”

Debbie tried desperately to change his mind. Cold sweat poured down her back.

“I’m not busy.”

He rested one arm on the desk and propped his chin on his hand, speaking with a languid expression.

“Aren’t you the busiest person in our publishing house? I can handle my own work.”

“Hmm… not particularly? I come in later than anyone. The employees do the work, and I just review it.”

“No, really! My research schedule is so irregular—how could you possibly match it? It’s fine. I do well enough on my own.”

“You get permission from me for your writing plan anyway. Who knows the schedule better than I do?”

He kept pushing the situation seemingly demanding she answer “yes.”

“No, no, really, no. Today I went to cover the Founding Day parade and got an impromptu opportunity to interview dancers who participated. Though I didn’t get much material.”

Absolutely not. Never Gray, not even if pigs fly.

‘Editor-in-Chief, I’ve been nice to you and tried to take care of you because you acted like the world had ended when Henrietta dumped you—not because I like you!’

Debbie imagined shouting this at him as she opened her mouth.

“These spontaneous opportunities happen so often—how could I possibly coordinate with you?” Debbie spewed out excuses while shuddering.

“Weren’t you glad to see me earlier? Your expression suggested so.”

Gray hit the mark. For about one second, she had been happy to see him. The problem was that every moment after that one second had been filled with regret.

“Aaack!”

Debbie let out an involuntary scream. Gray examined her with a startled expression.

“What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t possibly tell him she screamed because she found the idea of his company so repulsive. However, he stared at her intently, determined to get an answer. Rolling her eyes, Debbie resorted to a classic excuse.

“Well…”

“What?”

“A b-bug kept lurking… no, I think I saw one pass by…”

“What? What kind of bug?”

Gray stood up from his chair. Debbie quickly pretended to flip through books on her desk, afraid he might approach.

“I… might have been mistaken. Maybe it was just my imagination.”

“I’ll have to tell the janitor to be more thorough.”

He rose and seemed about to approach Debbie but instead walked past her into the editor’s office.

Gathering her courage, Debbie called after him, “I appreciate the offer to accompany me, but I really prefer researching alone.”

But Gray, while rummaging around in his office, insisted on accompanying her. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable. What if something happened?”

But it’s really fine… Debbie frowned.

For some strange reason, whenever she looked at Gray, she found it difficult to express her thoughts clearly.

“That’s an editor’s order.”

He delivered the final blow. He was skilled at evading opposition, circumventing objections with words that sidestepped the core issue.

“Let’s think about it over a cup of tea.”

Debbie took several deep breaths before looking at Gray emerging from the editor’s office. He was holding teacups.

“This tea is good for hangovers.”

He skillfully prepared herbal tea himself. When Debbie stood up to help him, he shook his head. 

“Just sit and rest. If you’re bored, lie down on the sofa and take a short break.”

“I’m fine.”

Gray pulled Debbie by the arm and insisted she sit on the sofa. It was strange that someone who disliked holding hands would so casually grab her sleeve. Perhaps it was because she had clung to his arm earlier while walking.

“Just lie down for a moment.”

He made her lie down and covered her with his coat. Clink, clink.

She hadn’t noticed until now because she’d been so tense, but suddenly drowsiness washed over her while Gray prepared the tea.

“Yaaawn.”

She really shouldn’t have let her back touch the surface. She’d been running around all day covering the Founding Day festival, then spent the evening at the dancers’ gathering without proper rest until dawn, so her exhaustion was understandable.

Sleepiness crept in. Fighting against her heavy eyelids, Debbie slowly closed and opened her eyes. Even trying to keep them wide open proved futile.

Zzz…

By the time Gray brought two cups of tea, Debbie had already fallen into a deep sleep.

“Haha…”

Gray looked at her with a resigned smile and placed the tea on the sofa table. Then he sat down beside the sofa where Debbie was lying. Her dark brown hair was disheveled across her forehead. She was completely defenseless. Something about the way she slept so soundly, like she was in her own home, felt oddly vexing to him.