The Temporary Girl | JJK Short Story [COMPLETED]

FIVE

Locking the screen of the computer, I got up and prepared to leave for lunch. Mr. Jeon had already left for his lunch, flying by me like a ghost without even saying anything. I had huffed when he crossed the threshold, rolling my eyes at his bluntness.

Now, I had to use my lunchtime to play maid and pick his clothes up at the dry cleaners, something I was almost certain hadn't been mentioned on my contract.

Making sure to get the ticket and stuff it in my purse, I made my way to the chromed elevator.

- Nari. – called someone from behind me as I waited.

- Oh, Sora. Hi.

- Hey, I thought maybe we could get lunch together, since you're new and all. – she said expectantly, smiling at me.

- I would love to, but I have to run to the dry cleaners for Mr. Jeon. – I answered, rolling my eyes to show her how annoyed I was by it.

- Oh. – she muttered, her excitement dimming for a moment. – I have an idea. We can go get a sandwich across the street and I can go with you to get his clothes. If you want to, of course.

- That would be good. – I agreed, walking with her to the metal box and pressing the button to start our descend.

Me and Sora walked friendly beside each other, heading for a café across the street. It wasn't too cramped, and after waiting for five minutes, we placed our order. Walking to a corner table, we sat ourselves and started nibbling at the food.

- This is nice. – I said, eyeing the sandwich in my hands.

- It is, isn't it? – she agreed. – I'm still surprised the rest of the employees don't all eat here.

I smiled at her and continued chewing, wondering the same myself. We were in a comfortable silence, as people came in and out. Once finished, I eyed the time on a clock hanging on the wall, telling Sora we should probably go if we didn't want to be late.

Thank God she knew exactly where we were going, and I didn't have to look it up online or risk getting lost. Plus, she was easy to talk to, and I could totally see her becoming a good friend.

- Miss Song said I'm replacing Mrs. Kang because she is on a sick leave. – I started as we walked. – Is she okay?

- Oh, Mrs. Kang is fine. She got the sick leave because of her husband.

When I eyed her confused, she explained.

- Apparently, he fell down somewhere and broke something. His foot is immobilized and he can't really walk for sometime, so Mrs. Kang had to stay with him.

- Oh. How long had Mrs. Kang worked with Mr. Jeon?

- Since he started, five years ago.

Jeon Jungkook had started his company at a young age, and succeeded right after. He was the youngest man in South Korea to start from scratch and own an empire in such a short time.

He was also the most wanted bachelor in the state, all the women throwing themselves at him in social events. But if he took them up on their offer, he was extremely discreet about it. No one could talk about his personal life, he never gave them any sort of ammunition.

That itself raised a lot of questions. People wondered how he managed to keep his life in such secrecy, or how he never seemed to be accompanied. Some thought him to prefer men to women, but I doubted it. Somehow his cold and assessing eyes had made me sure he was as straight as they come, and that if I challenged him too hard, he would prove it.

- How does she manage ... well ... him? – I asked, reverting back from my reverie.

- Oh, Mrs. Kang is like sixty-two, and surprisingly, Mr. Jeon actually listens to her. Actually, she might the only one he truly watches his mouth with in the company. – Sora said, smiling. – And when he lashes out on her, she chastises him in his face.

- She sounds nice. – I agreed.

- Oh, she is. It's why she took the sick leave, you know. Mr. Jeon wouldn't let her quit to care for her husband, so she is just temporarily away.

- I think I know the answer for that. It's because any other secretary would try to punch him in her first day. – I said, which made us both laugh.

- That good, huh?

- Yeah. But I'm taking Miss Song's words to my heart, he is like that to everyone. So the problem isn't me, it's him.

- That's one way of seeing it. We're here. – she announced, motioning for me walk in first.

Walking to the counter, I handed the laundry ticket to the woman there. She smiled and disappeared behind a door. When she came back, she had about ten plastic bags on her arm.

Thanking her, I divided the hangers with Sora and we walked back to Jeon's. Upon entering our lobby at the top, I retrieved the bags from her and excused myself, saying I had to put them in place and go back to my desk. Mr. Jeon had said he would be back in half an hour, but you should never trust your boss not to surprise you and point out how you have failed his test.

Leaving my purse by my desk, I entered his empty office and headed for his hidden closet. There were no knobs to open it, so trying it out, I just pressed on the panel and thankfully the door unlocked.

Opening the bags I had brought, I extracted the clean shirts and arranged them with the others that were already there. There was an internal drawer, which I realized were for the plastic bags, so I folded them and placed them there.

Sliding my fingers against the fabrics, I acknowledged how soft they were. Checking for the inside of the collar, I looked for a tag containing the brand's name, and confirming my theory that they were custom made.

For whatever crazy reason, I leaned in, sniffing one of the shirts that had been there already. It smelled clean, but there was a subtle smell to it, like perfume. Maybe from when the owner touched it, passing it to the side and choosing another shirt among the bunch.

Dropping my hands and pretending that hadn't happen, I closed the panels and marched out, sitting on my chair and logging in on the computer. I opened a file and started to work, just as the owner of the office I had been in arrived, passing by me like the wind.

I sat immobile for a second, as if he would know what I did just by walking through the door. I only relaxed a couple of minutes later, when he didn't yell or called to throw another smug remark at me.

Taking a deep breath, I went back to work.

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