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By the time I got home, I was having a hard time sorting out my feelings. Oh sure, my libido was temporarily satisfied from my amazing romp with the boss lady but quite aside from that, I felt terribly disappointed with myself for getting so easily drawn into a tumble with a married woman. I actually felt a little like I'd cheated on Hae-Won, even though she never said anything to give me any hope of building any kind of a relationship with her.

After a hot shower, I lay in bed taking deep breaths, trying to quiet my brain but I wasn't having much success. I scooted to the side near the wall and let my head droop down next to the vent hoping to hear her breathing. Yeah, I know it's silly but knowing we were within hearing distance of each other seemed, I don't know, kind of intimate. I imagined Hae-Won sleeping in something like an oversized T-shirt and wished it was mine. I imagined doing to her what I did to Shelly and found myself with a woody that required some attention. I wanted her so bad that just a few tugs brought me to a pretty impressive climax considering the load I'd dropped in Shelly less than an hour earlier.

I don't know what time I finally dropped off but I slept right through the alarm and was almost late for rehearsal. Maestro Falcone had already taken the podium when I dashed onto the stage in a sweat, snapped open my cello case and took my seat beside Hae-Won. The Maestro smiled and was kind enough to give me a couple of minutes to get myself together. I was embarrassed at being the center of attention and holding up rehearsal and Hae-Won giggled at my state of disarray.

Maestro Falcone didn't feel it necessary to make many adjustments and the rehearsal went so well that we began working on one of the pieces for the second concert. Late that afternoon as we were packing up our instruments, I asked Hae-Won to walk with me to my car. When we got outside, I told her that I had quit my job at the restaurant and asked if the teaching position at the academy was still open. She said she was pretty sure it was and that she'd stop in at the office and pick up an application for me. As we parted, she hesitated like she was going to ask me something but changed her mind and waved goodbye as she crossed the street.

I found myself aching to be with her but if I got the teaching job, we'd be colleagues on two levels and I supposed that would make it even more unlikely she'd agree to go out on a date with me. Her reluctance even caused me to fear that she might already be betrothed in an arranged marriage or something. Shit! How would I be able to compete with that!? In my mind, I was cursing her parents and their antiquated Korean cultural traditions.

The next day after rehearsal, Hae-Won gave me the application and sat with me to help me fill it out. She said she'd already talked to the HR director and that I could take the completed application over right away if I had time. I asked if she'd go with me but she said she had a student waiting and assured me the director was a very nice lady and that I'd be just fine on my own.

Well, Hae-Won must have really done a sell-job on me because I was met with a big smile and hand-shake and the whole interview process didn't take more than twenty minutes. It seems they already had a waiting list of students for me. The academy requires each student to study at least two instruments, one of them being piano because it's pretty hard to really get a good feel for musical theory without some time on a keyboard. There were a surprising number of students whose primary or secondary instrument was the cello.

I spent the next two hours processing into the school system and meeting some of the other instructors. Hae-Won was still busy with her students. When I left the building, I already had five students assigned to me and my first session would be the next day at nine AM. My life as a waiter was in the past.

Within a few days, I established a functional routine. While the pay wasn't quite what I was making at the restaurant, it was close enough that I didn't miss the difference. Between the orchestra and the academy, I was paying my bills and even putting a little in savings.

Each teaching session required its own preparation, depending on how far advanced the student was. To be honest, going in, I wasn't sure I had what it took to be a teacher but that worry faded quickly. The classes were fun and I found I had a knack for generating some enthusiasm in my students. In fact, at rehearsal a couple of weeks after I started at the academy, Hae-Won said she'd been hearing good things about me from some of my students.

Opening night for the season was on us before we knew it. Two days before, the Maestro said she hoped we'd remembered to get our formal wear dry-cleaned. Damn! It hadn't even occurred to me! As soon as I got home, I dragged my old tux out of its box and tried it on. At least it fit but it definitely needed cleaned and pressed. I headed down the stairs on a dead run hoping to get to the dry-cleaner's down the street before they closed and almost ran right over Hae-Won at a bend in the stairwell. I just avoided colliding with her by sticking my hands out on either side of her head and stopping myself against the wall. My tux wound up draped across her head.

"Oh, jeez, Hae-Won! I'm so sorry! Are you OK?"

She lifted my tux jacket off her face and laughed, "I'm just fine. What's all the rush?"

"I completely forgot about getting my tux cleaned until Maestro Falcone mentioned it at rehearsal. I was just trying to get to the cleaners before they closed. In fact, I'd better get going!"

"You're too late. I just walked by there and they're locked up tight. How badly does it need cleaning?"

"Well, it's probably acceptable but it's been packed away in a box with mothballs so it stinks as I'm sure you're aware by now and it's pretty rumpled. I doubt the audience will be looking at me but you and everybody else around me aren't going to enjoy the smell."

She took my elbow and said, "I can fix that. Come with me."

I followed her up the stairs to her apartment and followed her lead by kicking off my shoes at the door. She had a compact stacked washer and dryer and the dryer had a steam cycle, something I'd never even heard of. She tossed the pants and jacket into the dryer, set it and hit the start button.

I had visions of it coming out three sizes too small. "Um, the label says 'dry clean only'. Are you sure this is gonna work?"

"Trust me, I do this to my velvet dress all the time. Would you like some tea?"

"Uh, yeah, I would. Thanks."

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