"No Iced Americano for me today?" Megan pouts as I set my purse down on my desk.
I grin. "You missed your chance yesterday," I say teasingly.
"Seeing that this place is still up and running like always, I'm going to assume you didn't drink the coffee," she says, turning back to her laptop.
"No," I confirm. "Ethan was here, so I gave it to him."
I haven't seen Ethan after he had the meeting with Mr. Park. But it's not like I expected him to walk by my desk again to say goodbye.
"Ethan?" Megan questions, turning back to me. Her left eyebrow jumps to her hairline and a smirk rises to her lips. "I'm starting to hear his name more often these days. Is there flirting going on?"
I take a few seconds to think about an answer. I've noticed that I'm seeing Ethan more often lately and that the number of our interactions are increasing, but I don't want to read too much into it. I don't want to assume he's trying to show interest when our encounters so far have been purely coincidental.
Except for the roses.
"He's nice." is what I finally decide to say. "The most I can say is that we're just friends, and that might even be too much. I mean, I don't know anything about him."
"Yeah, sure." Megan snickers, like she's not buying it. I ignore it because I know I can't change her mind no matter how hard I try. In her head, I'm sure I'm already wearing a wedding dress.
Ethan is a handsome and charming man. I'd be lying if I said he doesn't catch all the women's eyes. And he knows that well, which makes him seem really confident.
"Let me know if you need a wedding planner," she says. See, I said it, "Anyway, we have a meeting in ten."
"Oh?" I draw my eyebrows together. "I didn't know that."
I sit down in my chair and log onto my laptop. When I open our agenda, I do indeed find that there is a meeting scheduled for eight o'clock, which I didn't know about yesterday. This meeting was actually scheduled for noon today.
"Mr. Park rescheduled the meeting because, apparently, he has to take care of something urgent later today. He sent out an email to everyone," Megan explains, already gathering her documents.
We are going to talk about a new project for which we are still in the planning phase. We usually have this kind of meeting at the very beginning of an ad, so that we on the creative team know exactly what we're going to be working on and what our client's requirements are.
I looked at a few past commercials for the company the day before yesterday and I have to admit that they are demanding. I am sure that the client will have high expectations of us because of that, but that is something we are used to.
I also gather my papers and grab a notepad and pen so I can jot down the most important things. At the end of meetings, my notes are always a mess like my head because I tend to scribble all my ideas on them as they pop into my head so that I won't forget them.
But since they are just notes for me and no one sees them, it's fine. I always make sure the notes I show to my supervisors are neat.
Megan and I head to the conference room down the hall. It's my favorite room to hold meetings because the morning sun shines right in and everything is bright and open. It makes me feel productive and I can think better.
Megan tells me about her headaches yesterday and how her migraines sometimes make her life harder, which makes me sad. She struggles with them from time to time, but I hope she will find a solution to them as soon as possible.
We round the corner, ready to enter the conference room a few feet away and that's when I see someone who causes me to stop in my tracks. I halt abruptly, almost knocking Megan out, and she cries out.
Mr. Jeon enters the same conference room where we will have our meeting and I panic because he is usually not present. It's rare that he joins us in planning meetings, Mr. Park is in charge of that.
And then I remember what I did yesterday.
"Girl, why are you stopping just like that in the middle of the hallway?" Megan asks, adjusting the papers in her arm because she ran into my back.
"Am I tripping or did I just see Mr. Jeon walk into the conference room?" I mutter, eyes wide.
"I don't know, could be." she shrugs, looking at me suspiciously. "Why?"
I turn to her, "Because I might have done something he didn't like."
Megan looks toward the conference room and then back at me. The confusion can be read like daylight in her eyes. "What did you do?"
I take a shaky breath. I had to bring papers and discuss them with him, which I didn't do because Ms. Moulin opened the door for me practically half-naked and I didn't know how to feel about it. So I just gave the documents to her and left.
But that's not what I tell Megan. Because I know she would ask questions - too many questions, which we don't have time for right now.
"Long story short; I had to do something for him and I didn't do it the way he wanted it done," I explain and she lets out a thinking sound. I try to read the damage in her scowl.
"Honestly, I don't think it's too bad—"
"He's going to fire me, right?" I turn to her hastily, panic rising inside me.
"What?"
"He's going to fire me, and then I won't be able to pay my bills. My landlord will kick me out and I'll end up under a bridge with some junkies." I grab her by her shoulders.
Not to mention I thought he called me to talk to me about that one night. Now I'll probably end up without a job and without an explanation. Can things get any worse?
"Geez, Kayla." Megan takes my hands off her shoulders. "He's not going to fire you. You're one of the best employees in this building."
"You really think that?" I let my shoulders drop.
"Yes," she assures me. "Okay, maybe you made a mistake, but Mr. Jeon doesn't fire people just like that," she says and I raise my eyebrow at that. We both think back to Tiffany. "Maybe he does, but he won't. All right?"
I scratch my head, considering her words. "Okay." I then say and she starts walking back to the conference room.
I don't know why, but my heart is hammering in my chest and the closer I get, the more nervous I become. What if he gives me dirty looks the whole meeting? I don't think I can take that. Especially not after everything that's happened between us.
When I came back home from his house yesterday, I cried. Okay, maybe for twenty seconds, but it still counts as crying!
Frustration had been building inside me over the weeks and because I was so hopeful about finally being able to get an explanation for everything, I found his ex-girlfriend standing at the door. Or maybe his now-girlfriend? I don't know.
Everything makes me so confused and I don't know what to think or feel anymore.
I try to swallow my nervousness and enter the room with Megan. Almost everyone is seated at their place and they are talking among themselves. I dare not let my eyes roam the room, though a strange feeling rises in my stomach as if someone is watching me.
Looking to my right, however, I then see that Mr. Jeon is sitting at the far end of the long table, taking notes on his notepad. I take a deep breath and try to get rid of these feelings because I'm starting to get paranoid.
Megan and I sit down at two empty seats and that's when Mr. Park enters the room, closing the door behind him. He smiles as he sets down his laptop and connects it to the projector before then opening a PowerPoint presentation.
"Good morning, everyone." he greets. "Thank you so much for making it to the meeting despite the short notice."
He opens the presentation and makes sure everything is going right. Mr. Park - though always smiling and nice - is a hard-working man, defiantly taking his work very seriously. He may not give the impression at first, but he always wants everyone to work with discipline and diligence.
"If you are all ready, we can start," he announces after he has prepared everything. We all nod. "Jungkook, you're ready too?"
My eyes work on their own and I find myself looking in his direction. He nods briefly, his features neutral. I notice that his hair is falling over his forehead today, and it gives him a more boyish look than the contained and adult one.
The three-piece suit hugging his body in all the right places, however, presents the exact opposite. I mentally slap myself for why I've now decided to observe him, but before I can look away, our eyes meet.
He stares over at me and even though he's sitting so far away from me, it feels like he's piercing me with his eyes. I break eye contact, unable to take it any further, and focus on what Mr. Park is presenting to us.
The meeting lasts about two hours and we discuss possible approaches and ideas for the new project. The room feels at least ten degrees warmer because I constantly feel like I'm being watched.
You know that feeling when you walk past a person and suddenly you're too focused on your walking that it feels like you've forgotten how it even works? That's exactly how I feel right now. I don't know how to act anymore and everything I do feels unnatural.
Trying to ignore this feeling, I come to the realization that this works best if I focus on my notes and that's exactly what I do. After everyone has presented their ideas and we have reached an agreement, we are dismissed.
I hurry out of the room with Megan because the air in the room was getting thin. We are one of the first out of the meeting and not even looking back, we head back to our desks.
I put my notes on my desk and Megan does the same. "Where are you going?" she asks as she watches me walk away.
"Restroom," I reply.
Thoughts somewhere else, I walk down the hallway that leads to the women's restrooms. Just as I turn the corner, I run into something hard. Looking up, I come into view with a chest.
Mr. Jeon's chest.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Jeon. I wasn't looking where I was going." I apologize, my eyes looking everywhere but into his brown ones.
Wait a minute. This moment feels too familiar for my liking.
"It's okay," he says, his voice unaffected and steady.
I clear my throat and look up at him only to see he's already looking at me unwaveringly. He doesn't say anything else, and I have no choice but to interpret his gaze with a thousand meanings. Until I can't stand to look into their depths anymore.
"I, uh—I will be—" I don't finish my sentence, or rather I'm interrupted as Mr. Jeon takes a step to the side, blocking my way. It's not inappropriate or anything, so it doesn't push me to feel uncomfortable or endangered.
But I'm freaking out and my heart agrees with me.
I look back up at him to be able to understand what he's up to, but all he does is just stare. I can't help but be pulled in by his eyes.
"Yesterday." He begins, after what feels like an eternity. "Why did you leave like that?"
Should I start looking for a box to put all my stuff in after he fires me?
I scratch my forehead, where his eyes drift to right then. What should I answer him? I know Mr. Jeon likes professionalism at work, and I can hardly tell him that his ex-girlfriend - again, maybe even now-girlfriend - was the reason I got embarrassed and left.
"I asked a question, Ms. Carlson," he says, now stepping closer.
The way he towers over me and the lingering of his perfume, make me giddy. If he's trying to get an answer from me right now because he thinks I didn't hear him, he's wrong. The sound of his voice still echoes in my ears.
It feels like I'm reliving my dream from a few days ago. Only this time it's real and I don't have the option of running away from it by waking up.
"You had company," I say after taking a deep breath. "I didn't want to invade your personal space, so I thought it would be okay."
"I had to go over the papers, Ms. Carlson." He replies, but his voice shows no scolding. "I told Mrs. Blue that specifically."
"No, please, Kiyara had nothing to do with it." When I made the decisions, I didn't think about whether it would affect others. I can't risk Kiyara getting in trouble because of me when all she wanted to do was pick up her daughter. "I acted on my own."
He shakes his head. "I'm not going to scold Mrs. Blue for something that wasn't her fault."
That calms me a little and I lower my gaze. "Thank you," I add.
He sighs, which draws my attention back to him and I watch him frown down at me. "If I want to do business, I do business. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," I nod. A sound close to a growl rises from his chest.
At this point, my back is pressed against the wall behind me because the distance between us is so small that I can't perceive anything but him. If I were to take even the smallest step forward, my nose would collide with his chest.
"I just assumed and I didn't want to interrupt," I explain, desperately trying to make things better.
"Don't assume next time," he rasps. "Just do what I say."
My eyes flick up to him. His gaze jumps between both of my eyes, and just for a moment, his eyes drift elsewhere. I swallow. "Yes."
He nods, dwelling for a few seconds before walking away. It's only when he's rounded the corner and disappeared from my sight that I can breathe freely again.
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Recovering from that tense moment this morning took all my concentration. I walked back to my desk, sweating and flushed. I didn't know how to act. So much so that I even went back to my seat without going to the bathroom first.
But this conversation once again confirms that I have duties and when someone entrusts me with a task, it's my job to do it the way I was told.
Maybe I should talk to him? I mean, actually talking about your thoughts and problems is decent adult behavior, so I guess I should approach him openly. But I can't because every time I see him the feeling of his face so close to mine makes my heart skip a beat.
Besides, I don't know what his answer would be. What if he says that I just imagined it. I can't even think about the embarrassment if something like that were to happen.
Maybe I should start erasing that night from my mind. Nothing happened anyway, and constantly looking for an answer I'm not going to get anyway is starting to be too much.
I take the fresh air of the evening into my lungs as I step out of the building. I finished work some time ago and now I'm ready to go home and take a long bath.
Opening the Uber app, I enter my destination. It shows that the driver would arrive in ten minutes and that's great. I take in the night, the cars passing me as I wait.
I'm about to open a game so I can pass the time until my Uber arrives, but quiet footsteps stop me. I turn around, only to see Mr. Jeon approaching. He has his briefcase with him, which leads me to believe that he has also left work.
"Good night, Mr. Jeon." I blurt out, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. I can't ignore people once I've made eye contact.
"Good night," he says back.
I thought he was just going to say goodbye and then walk on, but he comes to a stop a few steps away from me. He takes a look around and I wonder if he's checking for anything in particular. He turns back to me.
"Are you waiting for someone?" he asks.
"Yes. I'm waiting for my Uber," I reply.
He nods in understanding before taking a step closer. A cloud deflates from his mouth as he exhales. "Do you always take the Uber to work?"
"Um, yeah, most of the time. I don't have a car." Again, I offer too much information without anyone asking. I'm unstoppable. "But I do have a driver's license, in case you were wondering." He wasn't.
He nods again. We stand there in silence, neither of us knowing what to say. I like it more when we have a casual conversation, it would definitely be an improvement to the tension we've felt between us lately.
He seems like he wants to say something, but I'm not sure what's stopping him. Maybe I'm not the only one bothered by the tension.
"Do you want me to dr—"
Before he can finish his sentence, the ringing of a phone interrupts him. I know it's not mine because I have a different ringtone and I'm holding it. I pull my coat tighter in the front as I watch him fish his phone out of the inside pocket of his coat.
"Hello?" he speaks, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to answer. "I just got off work. Why?"
The closeness between us doesn't give me the option of not listening in on his call, though I try to appear as uninterested as possible so he doesn't think I'm trying to eavesdrop on his conversation.
I can hear the faint sound of someone talking coming from his phone, but I can't make out who the voice belongs. Not that it's any of my business.
"Where are you?" I hear Mr. Jeon ask as I watch the street lights. "Okay. Will be there."
I'm still wondering why he didn't leave and what it was he was going to say before the caller interrupted him. Did he want to give me a ride? No, I must be delusional.
God, am I on drugs without knowing?
He clears his throat, catching my attention, and I realize he has ended the call, his phone still in his hand.
"When is your Uber arriving?" he asks me, his eyebrows now drawn together and forming a line between them.
I check the app on my phone. "It says five minutes."
He doesn't comment, simply nods. He steps a little closer, looking down the street. I'm confused as to what he's still doing here, even though he clearly told the person on the phone that he'd be there - wherever it is.
It's quiet between us and I have to fight the smile from my lips as he stays with me waiting for my Uber.
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A/N: this chapter's Mr. Jeon 👇🏼🤤