Monica was about to press for an answer when she remembered the city hall and store were very close, and leaned back. Cicci, watching Monica, spoke up.
"Didn't you say he's a highly talented painter from Korea?"
"Yes, dubbed the 'Star of the East.'"
"..............."
"Cicci has different thoughts, I see?"
"To be honest, I don't understand."
"Haha, you won't understand what Ban is doing halfway through. It's normal. Please accept it."
"Yes, ma'am."
As the car stopped, Monica looked out in slight surprise.
The store, not yet opened and still ordering its sign, was busy with construction. But the problem was the passersby, stopping briefly to look at the store before continuing on their way. Though they didn't linger long, almost no one simply walked by.
With curious faces, they would glance at the store, cock their heads in wonder, chuckle, and then continue on their way.
As the driver opened the rear door, Monica stepped out and asked Cicci, who was already outside,
"What's going on with the store?"
"..............."
Cicci motioned with her eyes as if to say, 'See for yourself.'
Monica frowned and headed towards the store.
Finally arriving at the storefront, Monica looked through the window at the store and was so astonished she couldn't even laugh.
"What on earth."
Blue. Everything was blue.
The walls and ceiling, every space except the floor, were covered in blue paint. Not neatly applied, but roughly, as if elementary school kids had playfully thrown paint and then smeared it with brooms rather than proper brushes, creating a comical scene.
Cicci came up beside Monica and said, "It's a bold choice."
"He started working alone a few days ago. But now, the entire store is being painted blue."
Monica frowned deeply.
It was her precious business venture, a flagship store for her brand, so how could she be happy with it looking like that? Monica, scowling, stared at the store.
However, recalling the beautiful paintings Jung-hoon had presented in Korea, including the murals he painted in the town, Monica began to think there must be some plan in his mind.
Monica, about to open the door of the store, checked through the glass to see that Jung-hoon was not inside and asked,
"Where is Jung-hoon?"
Cicci, checking the time, replied,
"He's probably gone for lunch at this hour."
"Alone?"
"According to the reports from Marco, the driver, they always go to eat together."
"He eats with the driver?"
"Yes."
Jung-hoon is an artist.
Not a businessman, nor a tycoon, and certainly not a noble.
He doesn't dine with his chauffeur as an act of patronage, but simply as eating with a colleague.
Monica chuckled and said,
"Call and find out where the restaurant is. I need to eat lunch anyway."
"Sure, Monica."
**
"My goodness, what is this, Marco? It's delicious!"
"Haha, that's not Italian food, it's Greek food. It's called gyros."
"What? It's not a taco but something else? I thought it was Mexican."
"It does look similar, but it's definitely Greek."
"Now that you mention it, the dough is a bit different. Kind of like a crepe."
"Exactly."
I've been having fun lately getting recommendations for Milan's best eateries from Marco, assigned as my driver by Monica. Marco, who's lived in Milan for over 20 years and is two years younger than me, knows every nook and cranny of this town. I realized this the day after I arrived in Milan when he didn't even need to turn on the navigation to get to the art store.
It's truly fun to travel with a local friend.
Then, Marco's phone rang while we were eating.
Seeing the screen, he was startled and rushed out to take the call.
A moment later, Marco, holding his share of the food, said,
"The secretary-general and the boss are here. I'll eat in the car."
"You can eat here, it's okay."
"I may be fine, but not in front of them. I'm just a driver."
Hmm, Italy also can't escape its class society culture.
Europe has been dividing classes between nobles and commoners for so long, so perhaps it's inevitable?
Watching Marco hurriedly leave, Monica soon enters. I wave my hand high to signal I'm here, and she comes straight over.
"Did you come?"
"Jung-hoon, do you like Greek food?"
"No, it's my first time trying it, but it's good. Delicious."
"This place is known only to the locals of Milan."
"Haha, Marco introduced it to me. He's a good guy."
Nothing beats praising someone in front of their boss. Noticing a woman I hadn't seen before next to Monica, I leaned forward.
"Do you speak English?"
A stern-looking beauty with glasses nodded.
"I'm the secretary-general, Cicciolina. Nice to meet you, Jung-hoon."
"Oh, you know my name. No need for introductions, then?"
"Yes."
"It's almost lunch, right? Let's order something."
Monica nodded at Cicci, who then went to place the order. Hmm, that must be convenient. Maybe I should hire a secretary if I earn a lot? Eh, no need for a servant at my side.
Turning my gaze from Cicci, I found Monica staring intently at my face.
"What's up?"
Monica seemed to want to ask something, then just smiled.
"Just. It's been a while since I've seen you."
"Oh, Monica, you're quite the simple one."
"Haha."
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