I am frantically rushing around the company, looking everywhere for the dark-haired woman I have been searching for all morning. Farah seems to be nowhere in sight, and it's probably not because of her petite form.
One of our clients has not approved the execution of a project-related script and is asking for a rewrite, and I need her to schedule the necessary meetings for that. Farah is our organizer and the bridge between our clients and us. She communicates with the secretaries of each company and I can't find her anywhere.
The last few days have been very busy and with the holidays and New Year's Eve approaching, we need to work harder to finish the last projects before the end of the year. I am totally anticipating my days off and finally being able to sleep in in the mornings.
I'll be staying at my parents' house, the furniture in my old room is still intact so I can come over whenever I want. Christmas is one of the best times of the whole year because my parents and I spend a lot of time together. And because the food is indescribably excellent.
I let out a sigh as I drop into my chair. Megan turns to me, a questioning look in her eyes. "I've been looking for Farah all day because I can't continue working until I've gotten in touch with the client, but I can't find her anywhere," I explain and she nods.
"I haven't seen her either," she says before turning back to her computer.
Great.
Just as I'm about to give up, head lingering against my chair, I spot Lizzie. She was in a meeting and judging by her smile, the meeting must have gone well. She greets me as she walks past my desk to get to hers before stopping abruptly.
"Oh, Mikayla." she turns to me and I hum. "Weren't you looking for Farah?"
"Yeah, but I couldn't find her," I sigh.
"I just saw her walking to the elevators. I think she's about to leave." she jerks her thumb in the direction of the elevators and my eyes widen. I can't let her go home before I talk to her.
"Crap. Thank you!" I exclaim, already jumping to my feet and jogging toward the elevators. I stumble a few times, but I don't let that hold me back. With the important papers in my hand, I race past a few colleagues and also Josh, who tries to strike up a conversation with me, but I run past him apologetically.
Why does it feel like I'm running in slow motion and where is the war-heralding, dramatic soundtrack coming from?
I'm almost at my destination when I see a familiar face a few steps ahead walking down the hallway in my direction. My eyes widen as I realize that I've spent the last few days avoiding Mr. Jeon and hiding from him.
Which, mind you, is not the easiest thing to do. I still haven't had the courage to face him. Especially not after what happened a few days ago. I don't know what I was thinking hiding under my desk, but I panicked.
Some may judge me for it because it shouldn't be a big deal and I should be over it, but whenever I catch even a glimpse of Mr. Jeon anywhere in the building, I get a weird feeling inside. I get nervous and all I can think about is the night of the launch party.
Thank goodness there is still a small hallway to my right and I make a right turn like a professional stuntman. The company is big and there are several ways to reach your destination, which confused me at the beginning of my career here. It took me time to figure out the labyrinth of rooms and hallways.
I take quick steps, blocking out everyone else, and when I make a left turn to the elevators, I bump into someone.
Mission failed.
Mr. Jeon is standing in front of me. Tall and broad, he looks down at me both intimidating and surprised at the same time. I take a step back so we won't brush against each other, but I'm still standing so close to him because the wall behind me prevents me from stepping any farther away.
He straightens and presses his lips into a straight line. I could offer a quick hello and continue on my way, but something in his eyes stops me and it feels like my feet have grown roots.
His eyes jump between mine before he then lets out a long sigh through his now parted lips. His hair is neat as ever, but this time a small strand falls onto his forehead, and funnily enough, I have to dig my fingers into my palm to keep from reaching up and brushing it out of his face.
"I'm sorry, I didn't look where I was going," I say nervously, his intense gaze making me gulp.
His right eyebrow jumps to his hairline. "I think you were," he says. Before confusion even has a chance to settle into my features, he continues. "You changed your path."
"I—what?" I laugh nervously. Why does he always have to see through me? I know I'm an open book, but come on, no one can be that unlucky. "No, I was looking for someone to discuss something with."
I try to show him the papers in my hand, but they've disappeared. Great part two.
He steps closer and looms over me, causing me to press my back further into the wall to leave a good distance between us. Otherwise, I don't think I can survive whatever this is.
His head tilts back ever so slightly causing his eyes to look darkly at me. His gaze travels over my face. "Are you avoiding me?"
Abort mission. Abort mission!
What am I supposed to say now? I can't very well tell him he's right. That would make me seem unprofessional and sensitive. Maybe that's what I am, but that's exactly what I try not to show.
I chuckle again. "No, of course not." my voice cracks mid-sentence as he takes another step closer. My whole body is now pressed against the wall and I can feel his warmth.
My eyes almost close on their own as I breathe in the familiar scent of him. Damn his cologne.
Memories from the night of the launch come flashing into my head and I feel like I'm back in the same position. His face is close enough that every detail I couldn't perceive in the darkness that night I can now make out perfectly under the fluorescent lights hanging from the ceiling. But it's also too close that it makes my heart beat hard against my chest.
"Is it hot in here?" I ask after he doesn't respond to my last sentence. I fan myself, nervously looking around me. "I don't think the air conditioning is working. Should I go and inform the team in charge? Maybe the electricity is out. But the lights are still working. Then it's probably just the air conditioning."
I'm babbling again.
Mr. Jeon shakes his head. "Mikayla," he says in a raspy voice.
The way he says my name sends a shiver down my entire spine. Good lord.
He looks at every inch of my face before his eyes stop on my forehead. Mr. Jeon's eyebrows draw together in deep analysis until I realize what he's looking at. When I tried to hide from him under the desk a few days ago, I hit my head, which left a bruise.
He shakes his head again and then my whole body freezes as I feel the lightest touch on the spot. With the gentlest contact I've ever felt, he lets his thumb brush across my forehead as if it will make the bruise fade away.
His eyes are soft as he watches his thumb caress me until his dark brown orbs stare back into mine. His lips part to let the faintest whisper fan my face.
"Don't hide from me," he says.
I think I'm going to faint.
But then I wake up.
"Mikayla, honey!" someone knocks on the door and it startles me so much that I fall out of bed. I let a yelp echo through the room because my precious ass cheeks are now kissing the floor. Not literally.
The comforter has wrapped itself around my body and has me in a chokehold, giving me the slightest feeling of claustrophobia, but I still make it out of the tangle.
"Yes?" I call back as I finally stand on both feet. The door swings open and my mother stands on the other side.
"Breakfast is ready," she announces with a smile and I can smell food wafting in my nose. "Are you still in your pajamas?"
I take a quick glance at the clock on the wall. It's ten in the morning. "I was about to head downstairs." I smile. I mean, it's Sunday, I most certainly wouldn't be awake at the crack of dawn.
She laughs. "I'm sure you were." she waves her hand in her direction. "Come on. Get dressed. Your father is about to eat the tablecloth."
I burst out laughing and my mother closes the door to give me privacy to get ready in peace. I let out a long and loud sigh, walking over to my floor-length mirror.
My hair is a mess just like my head. I look at my forehead and there's no bruise staring back at me. Because it's been more than a week since I hit my head on the table.
I don't even know why I had the dream and why it felt so real. I shudder as I feel the non-existent touch of Mr. Jeon on my skin and rub my forehead to make the feeling go away until the skin turns red.
Christmas was the day before yesterday, I will go back to work tomorrow. It was the first time I dreamed about Mr. Jeon and I don't appreciate the way he appeared in it at all. It confuses me and makes me get frustrated because I can't find any meaning to it.
Sure, I avoided him as best I could in the company, but I didn't even try that hard. He wasn't around most of the time anyway or in his office, probably sitting behind a pile of papers.
Ignoring and trying to forget the pointless dream, I throw on a clean t-shirt I used to wear in high school and run to the bathroom across the hall to wash my face.
Descending the stairs, I'm already laughing because mom slaps dads hand as he tries to steal a strip of bacon without her noticing. He thinks because she can't see he might get away with some, but mom is very alert.
"Thank God you're here, Mikayla!" He exclaims when he spots me. "I'm being abused in this house."
"You are so dramatic, Isaac." my mom sighs. "Can you pour me some tea, please?"
"Anything you want." dad smiles and I can't help but love their interactions.
They've always been like this for as long as I can remember. Always thoughtful, loving, and helpful. No matter what fate has thrown their way, they have expertly overcome together and that's why I admire their relationship and them as people and hold them up as role models.
I sit down at the table and we have breakfast just like in the old days. I always make sure to stay over at my parents' house on holidays and also every now and then so we can catch up on the latest things. Quality time is important for all of us.
After breakfast, which was filled with laughter and a bit of loving banter, I help my parents clean the table. My mom hates doing nothing and my dad, the helpful man that is despite his back pain, brings the dirty plates into the kitchen for me to wash.
"Should I tell your dad to carry your bag downstairs?" my mom asks.
I had told them that I probably won't stay for dinner because tomorrow is work and I have to clean my apartment and take a shower.
"No, I'll go and get it. I didn't bring too much anyway," I say, wiping my hands after I finish the last plate.
"You should have taken a few more days off, honey. I missed having you here," she says, her voice becoming sad. I walk over to her and give her a tight hug. "You should bring Megan next time. Haven't seen her in a while."
"Yeah, work has been busy the last few days. Actually, she wanted to come over for a few hours but she couldn't make it." I tell her to which she nods understandingly.
My parents love Megan, she's practically like a second daughter to them. Although we've only known each other since we started working together, we have a friendship that feels like we spent our entire childhoods together.
"How's Jungkook doing, by the way?" she asks, making me choke on my own spit. I cough, eyes wide and not knowing why she's suddenly asking about my boss.
I pull myself together, trying not to look suspicious because my mom is like a radar and knows everything. "I'm sure he's fine," I shrug. "Haven't seen him around much lately."
"Hmm." she hums, sympathetic. "You should bring him over again. I really liked him. Is he single?"
"Mom!" I gasp. "How am I supposed to know? Leaving that aside, it's none of my business."
She waves her hand dismissively. "You kids are weird these days!" she says, almost scolding me. "If I were you, I would have snatched him up by now."
"What?" I whine. "He's my boss. Plus, I don't really know him."
"Boss or not." she stands in front of me now, her hand on my shoulder. "He was very nice, respectful, had manners. And he's handsome."
"I don't mean to be rude, but how do you even know if he's handsome or not?" I ask. My mother's disability has never been a taboo subject for us, so I know she won't be mad about the question.
I really want this conversation about my boss to end. Especially after the dream I had last night, I have mixed feelings anyway that confuse me.
"Is he handsome?" she asks.
I scratch my head. "I mean. I guess he is good-looking."
"See. I know these things," she states proudly, her smile reaching from ear to ear. She pats me on the shoulder before walking away and I take a deep breath to let my flushed cheeks cool.
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I don't know why I had the dream I had because everything at work is actually going smoothly. We haven't had any delays or complaints about the projects, but I guess all the stress lately must have drained me mentally.
New Year's Eve is in a few days and that's why we don't have any open requests or anything like that. I'm actually quite proud of our company for working so diligently this year. We've never had so many projects and the happy clients are also a positive influence on our work.
I'm typing away on my computer, answering a few questions from a client about a script I worked on. Almost everyone is back after celebrating Christmas with their family and it's not as quiet as it was a few days ago.
Lizzie got sick over the holidays and that's why she's not here today, but it's not a big deal for her because she wouldn't have much to work on anyway. Josh told me that he went out with the guy from the launch party for another date and that they are getting along well so far, which makes me happy for him.
I'm engrossed in the email I'm typing when then a young man shows up in front of my desk.
"Mikayla Carlson?" he asks as he reads my name off a small device.
"Yes, that's me." I straighten my back, curiosity settling into my features.
"These are for you," he says, holding up a large bouquet. The smell of fresh roses immediately fills my nose and I take a whiff. There must be at least thirty red roses in the bouquet, so the delivery guy struggles to look over the bouquet at me.
"Oh."
I can't hold back the smile that fights its way onto my lips as I get up from my chair to take the flowers from the delivery guy. I sign on his device and he leaves before I hear a whistle from behind me.
I turn to see Megan with wide, excited eyes and a teasing smile. "I've never seen such expensive-looking roses. Who are they from?"
I blush. "I don't know, to be honest. I wasn't expecting them."
She comes to stand beside me. "Isn't there a card?" she asks, looking in the bouquet.
She fishes out a card and hands it to me. I can literally feel her excitement and I have to admit that my heart started beating like crazy. I have never been sent flowers to my workplace, not even from my past boyfriend.
These roses cannot match your beautiful smile but I hope they brightened up your day.
E.
"E as in an Ethan Stan?" Megan gasps.
I smile shyly. "I don't know, but I am guessing."
I set the flowers down on my desk and look at them. They are beautiful, their dark red color glowing under all the lights. I'll make sure to thank Ethan, though I'm not sure if they're from him. I don't know anyone to send me flowers though and I'm not sure why Ethan sent them.
He was very nice at the launch party and I appreciate him driving me home. I felt bad that he had to leave the party because of me, but he assured me that he was bored anyway and wouldn't have stayed much either.
I try to ignore Megan's excited chatter and run to the kitchen to look for anything resembling a vase to put the roses in. I find a jar big enough to hold the roses until I go home tonight and fill that with water.
I put the roses in the jar and secure them so they don't fall over and break. I don't have Ethan's phone number, so I can't send him a message to thank him, but I will do so at the first opportunity when I see him again.
Sitting back in my chair, I continue with my work, but the smile never leaves my lips. It is such a sweet gesture and so thoughtful. Knowing that he was thinking of me while picking out the roses makes my insides warm.
But it doesn't last long because I hear footsteps coming from my left side and when I look up from my computer, I see Mr. Jeon walking in my direction. But I decide not to run from him today and try to keep a straight face as best I can, no matter how much my heart is racing.
He's wearing a white dress shirt hugging his torso today, paired with dark slacks. The aura he radiates is so strong that I can't look away. Yesterday's dream comes rushing back into my head and I take a sharp breath.
When our eyes meet, his steps slow. He doesn't break eye contact for a long time until his attention falls on the roses on my desk. He says nothing, though he is in audible proximity, his face is neutral.
He stops in front of my desk, his gaze fixed on the roses. "What are these, Ms. Carlson?" he asks, his eyes back on me.
"Roses, Mr. Jeon," I reply politely. I can't hear myself through the pounding in my ears.
"I can see that," he says, clearing his throat. His jaw clenches. "But this is an office, not a flower store. Put them somewhere else, please."
I watch his back as he then walks away.
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A/N: Feels good to be back, I hope you enjoyed it!💗