The category of “adult magazine” was a title that made people view everything through colored glasses.

“Hmm…”

Debbie examined her to-do list. The calendar was filled with red and blue circles, along with tiny detailed tasks written in small print.

Among all those tasks, only a few truly reflected the adult magazine’s nature—her column and some special feature articles. Fashion, sports, and celebrity gossip actually dominated the content. There were even jokes about past political issues and erotic serial novels.

This reality differed from her initial impression when she joined, vaguely thinking adult magazines were simply bad.

‘With such diverse content…’

The crime and depravity people associated with “adult magazines” weren’t actually created by the magazines themselves. The relatively decent content wasn’t just characteristic of “Troublesome”—competing publications were similar.

They addressed sexuality, but with an attitude of “So what? What’s the big deal?”

It was the provocative photos that first caught people’s attention, and the controversies stemmed from how viewers interpreted them. Even the most shocking photos lost their impact after repeated viewing.

‘This situation makes me want to write my column better.’

Making an adult magazine truly worthy of its name—people looked down on adult magazines, but the reality was different.

Her column addressed what people were curious about but too embarrassed to ask elsewhere, providing straightforward answers to their unspoken questions. This realization motivated her to put more effort into her work.

Debbie’s desk drawer was stuffed with reader postcards. The concept of reader postcards for an adult magazine seemed strange, yet they gave her more reason to write her column diligently.

“Debbie, we need to leave.”

Gray approached and tapped her desk twice, pointing at his wristwatch to indicate they were in a hurry.

“Yes…”

Debbie stuffed her notebook and fountain pen into her bag like a cow being dragged to slaughter. Today was finally the day to interview Lorraine.

Having Gray hurry her along made her feel like her lunch might come back up. The interview would have been enjoyable if she were going alone, but having Gray accompany her like a shackle made it miserable.

Who wouldn’t feel uncomfortable traveling with their boss?

“Get in.”

Gray pointed to a long automobile parked in front of the publishing house. Debbie narrowed her eyes when she saw it—the car looked oddly familiar.

“Isn’t this the president’s car?”

Gray opened the passenger door and replied, “Yes.”

Debbie hesitated and took a step back.

“Why are we taking the president’s car?”

“I borrowed it. Is there a problem?”

“No, but isn’t this car expensive?”

“It is.”

“How can I ride in something like that?”

“Is being expensive a reason not to ride in it?”

“What if it gets scratched? You’re not going to make me pay for damages, are you?”

“You’re strangely timid about this. Why worry about compensation first? How do you ride in carriages without worrying about scratches?”

Gray gave her an irritated look. Debbie couldn’t bring herself to say she worried Blake might use even minor issues as an excuse to summon her.

“How can you compare carriages and automobiles? This one is so shiny and polished that even a fingerprint could leave a mark…”

Gray pushed her from behind, and Debbie found herself in the car before she knew it. He closed the door and went around to the driver’s seat.

Debbie clutched her bag nervously. Gray suddenly grabbed her hand and pushed it aside. As she twisted in surprise, a black strap crossed her body.

“Safety belt.”

Click.

Gray fastened what he called a safety belt. Not understanding what was happening, Debbie had initially been suspicious of where his hands were going but then breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why are you so startled?”

Gray looked at her with another irritated expression.

“I’m sorry. Does the president often ask you to drive?”

“Well… something like that.”

When Gray started the engine, the car shook with a loud noise. Debbie found the vibration very uncomfortable and tense.

Listening to Debbie’s unnecessary comments, Gray frowned. Her constant worrying was incomprehensible to him. He didn’t realize she simply wanted to avoid entanglement with Blake and was making excuses.

“Is this your first time in a car?”

“…Yes.”

Vrrrrrm.

The engine vibrated. Suddenly feeling nauseous, Debbie squirmed and finally couldn’t bear it anymore. She opened the door and tried to get out.

Gray, about to depart, grabbed her in surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

“I really can’t ride in this.”

Debbie grimaced and stretched her foot out, determined to exit.

Gray reached over and closed the passenger door.

“What’s the problem?”

Debbie couldn’t honestly express her feelings. She really didn’t want to ride in Blake’s car. She worried Blake might suddenly appear and slip into the back seat, or that he might complain about her fingerprints on the car or dirt from her shoes on the luxurious interior.

The memory of how he had used his power to try to take advantage of her made her anxious. The car still carried the strong musk fragrance Blake typically wore.

“Could we… could we take a carriage instead?”

Debbie hesitantly offered this alternative.

Gray gripped the steering wheel, revealing his wristwatch.

“Are you going to be late? Lorraine is busy.”

“Ah…”

Debbie thought of Lorraine’s face and quietly closed her mouth.

Lorraine turned out to be an even more famous dancer than Debbie had thought—a top talent at Voluptas.

Not only could she dance, but she could also sing and act, which was why investors were planning to debut her as the lead in a play. The industry was buzzing with expectations of a huge success.

“If this play succeeds, she’ll become too busy for interviews. So let’s hurry.”

He cut off Debbie’s hesitation and focused on driving. Watching him, Debbie tried to push thoughts of Blake from her mind.

But the strong scent of Blake’s perfume in the car kept making her feel sick. No matter how expensive or high-quality the perfume might be, to Debbie it was nothing but an unpleasant stench.

Gray is not Blake.

Debbie took a deep breath.

Loveless s*x. Her decision to try it once for the sake of her columnist mission had been a mistake. The unwanted relationship had left a lasting wound.

‘I’ll never do that again. Never without love.’

Debbie bit her lip firmly, making this promise to herself. She knew that if she happened to meet Blake again, those unpleasant memories would resurface and restrict her freedom.

That’s why she wanted to avoid encountering him again at all costs.

The car had already passed the intersection in front of the publishing house. Blake’s hotel came into view. After parking and approaching, an employee came over and whispered something to Gray.

“We need to go to Centum Theater.”

Gray got back into the driver’s seat without hesitation.

“Why?”

“Lorraine hasn’t returned because she was working overnight. They say she’s at Centum Theater.”

“Should we reschedule for another day?”

“Let’s go to Centum Theater and decide there.”

Leaving the Voluptas entertainment venue behind, they headed toward Centum Theater where Lorraine was reportedly rehearsing.

The sky was blue, and flocks of white pigeons swept across it like clouds. The car moved quickly and quietly, with refreshing breezes flowing through. It would have been a perfectly happy day for an outing.

Debbie gazed blankly at the sky, momentarily forgetting everything as she enjoyed the comfortable ride that couldn’t be compared to carriages, trams, or trains, and appreciated the passing scenery.

Screech.

They arrived at Centum Theater in what seemed like a magical instant.

It must have been a late lunch hour, as people who appeared to be staff members were gathered on the green lawn around the outdoor theater, eating packed lunches.

Debbie was absently watching them when she became aware of someone approaching from behind.

“I parked the car. Let’s go now.”

Gray had returned. White bricks formed neat patterns on the ground, creating a beautiful contrast with the grass on either side.

Suddenly, Debbie felt like going on a picnic. How wonderful it would be to go somewhere with a lawn and peacefully bite into a sandwich.

But beside her, Gray was grumbling.

“Why is the pavement management so terrible?”

The white bricks were uneven, with puddles from last night’s rain occasionally splashing up, but it wasn’t bad enough to be annoying.

“And what about these people sitting on wet grass before the rain has even dried? Laughing like everything’s fine.”

He was full of complaints.

“They collect so much tax, but where does it all go if this is the result?”

Debbie tried to hypnotize herself.

I can’t hear anything… I can’t hear…

In truth, he didn’t need to accompany her to this kind of interview. She might have appreciated his company if it were for safety on a night journey, but this was a wide-open space on a main road in broad daylight.

He claimed to be busy yet followed her around complaining. Unable to understand his psychology, she had given up trying at some point.

‘The editor-in-chief… is simply impossible to understand.’

But she could never see what was really happening—that Gray’s gaze kept drifting toward her, and being acutely aware of this, he kept muttering to divert his attention.

She didn’t realize he was constantly cursing himself internally, trying to redirect his gaze that sensitively followed her every small movement despite his desire not to care.

‘Damn it, I can’t even control my own body.’

Today especially, Debbie’s profile in the sunlight looked exceptionally beautiful.

Her natural makeup style, which concealed flaws while highlighting her strengths, was actually the best solution for someone unskilled at applying makeup.

To Gray, who was used to heavy makeup, Debbie’s clear face, where even the fine hairs of her pores seemed visible, subtly stirred his heart.

Particularly, her lip glaze, which preserved her natural lip color while adding shine, made her lips look fresher than ever.

‘No. Think about the column.’

Gray touched his throbbing temple, recalling the content of Debbie’s previous column. Remembering that he was the target of all that criticism, he clenched his fist at the cold assessment before barely regaining his composure.

Yet whenever he glanced at Debbie again, his heart rate increased, irritating him and making him look for anything to criticize.

‘This too shall pass.’

Gray clenched his molars.

They reached the theater waiting room where Lorraine was reportedly resting during her lunch break. As they turned the corner, they nearly collided with several people walking quickly toward them.

“Oh my!”

Debbie barely stopped in time, narrowly avoiding a collision with one of them.

“Watch where you’re going.”

The husky female voice sounded familiar.

“Oh…”

It was Henrietta.

Instead of saying anything to Debbie, Henrietta simply smiled.

Debbie instinctively looked in the direction of Henrietta’s gaze. Gray, who had been following, stopped in his tracks.

“Rita, do you know these people?”

A well-dressed middle-aged man called to Henrietta.

Henrietta gave a flirtatious smile, glanced once at Debbie and Gray, then half-covered her face with the fan she was holding and took the middle-aged man’s arm.

“A little.”

Her attitude was extremely affectionate.

The middle-aged man looked at Debbie and Gray with suspicious eyes.

“What kind of relationship?”

“Just people I’ve crossed paths with once? But they’re so trivial and boring that I barely remember them.”

Henrietta’s gaze flicked toward Gray before settling on Debbie.

The subtle smile she directed at Debbie seemed to ask, “You know why I’m saying this, don’t you?”

“What kind of relationship is that supposed to be?”

The middle-aged man questioned Henrietta accusingly.