Sauvage | Jeon Jungkook

Seven

"I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting?" she asks as she comes to a stop beside me.

I clear my throat and look away. "Not really. I was talking to Mr. and Mrs. Bonneville."

"Good evening." she smiles kindly before shaking hands with both of them.

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Jungkook?" Mr. Bonneville wonders, eagerly waiting as a big and happy smile plays on his thin lips.

"Yeah, sure. This is Mikayla Carlson," I say. "She's um—"

"Your girlfriend as you kids call it these days?" Mr. Bonneville teases.

I knew this conversation would come up the minute I introduced Ms. Carlson to anyone because it's really only natural to come to an event like this with a real date. And I'm here with one of my employees.

I stumble over my words as the couple in front of me looks at me waiting and I freeze. I hate it when that happens, but that's when Ms. Carlson steps in for me. "No, I'm just his date for tonight," she says.

I look down at her, but she's looking at the couple. I can see her cheeks taking on a slight blush under her makeup, so I look away again. There's a suspicious but at the same time teasing look in the old man's eyes, but I ignore it.

"Sure." he nods along with his wife as they look back and forth between us. The air becomes quizzical, but thankfully they both quickly excuse themselves. "I'm not young anymore and these knees are definitely not meant for standing for that long."

Ms. Carlson chuckles at that, her eyes shining. The dark makeup around her eyes makes them stand out even more. She has hazel eyes with flecks of green and honey. And she doesn't seem to find this as uncomfortable as I do.

After the couple is out of earshot, she turns to me. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. Jeon."

"It's okay," I reply, ready now to finally head into the main event room, but she stops me.

"I've never been to such a fancy event before and I'm getting a little panicky. What do I do?" she asks, her voice taking an octave higher just like it always does when she starts bubbling. "Is my dress appropriate for an occasion like this? Am I overdressed, underdressed?"

When she stops talking she looks at me with expectant eyes. It's a genuine question, but the problem is I don't know how to answer her. These types of events always go the same way and since I've been used to them for years, I honestly don't know what to do besides sit and talk to the people who approach me.

And about her dress—

Just for a few seconds, I let my eyes travel down. Her dress is kept simple in a very dark blue that almost appears black. The fabric is velvet and has a deep v-neckline in the front that I quickly look away from. It flows evenly down until it touches the floor and the slit on her thigh that I saw earlier is just out of view because she is standing still.

When I find her eyes again, she is still looking at me as she was a few seconds ago. Her black hair is parted in the middle and she has tucked one side behind her ear.

I've never really known how to tell a woman what she looks like. When I was dating Camille, she always wanted to know what I thought of her outfit, her hair, her makeup before we went out to dinner or anywhere else.

And no matter what I said she never really seemed enthusiastic or satisfied by my answer.

"Yes, it is appropriate," I answer and she immediately smiles.