𝐌𝐫. 𝐊𝐢𝐦

16

You're relieved that your family is coming down to Seoul today. If it weren't for this birthday party, you probably wouldn't feel the urge to take a break and fly back to the countryside to see your parents and sister, who lives further out in the city and leads a busy life just like you. Not to mention your brother, whom you rarely get to see.

It's nearly noon, and the weather in Seoul is erratic. If you had bothered to check the weather app this morning, you might have been able to do without the jacket.

Just the thought of your family finally meeting your boss - after years of working together and talking about him over the phone - have you sitting on the edge of your seat in Namjoon's Benz. He detects your silence through the faint sound of music from the speakers as he asks, "Have you had breakfast yet?"

You turn to face Namjoon, taking note of his casual attire. His plain white shirt, tucked under a light-washed denim jacket, and neatly pulled back hair make him look even younger than he is. Reminds you of a college heartthrob back in the day. Needless to say, even without the pricey suit and ties that cost more than you'll ever make in your lifetime, he was even more appealing.

You also discovered that he favored hoodies and sweatpants more than you thought. Why are you only now noticing these things about him? You wouldn't even have considered his favorite color or his favorite scent a few years ago. Now suddenly, you can't help but scrutinize his lovely skin tone and the musky odor that pervades his car, clothes, and home.

As you shamelessly set your gaze on Namjoon's stunning eyes, thoughts of your family and the job you desperately need from Mr. Bang's law firm fade and are pushed back in your mind.

"I didn't get the chance to grab anything before leaving the house," you tell him guiltily when you're reminded of your sister's efforts. "But it's alright, I don't feel h—"

"We'll stop by at Cabane first," Namjoon doesn't let you finish when he's already on his way to his favorite five-star restaurant.

"Sir—"

"Namjoon," he corrects you right away. "You're gonna call me that when we're not at work."

You sigh and awkwardly stir in your seat. "I'm fine, really," you reassure him, but even that doesn't convince him. "We can just go straight to the mall. They only gave us an hour, we don't have enough time."

"Do you really think they'll cancel on me?" Namjoon chuckles, removing his right hand from the steering wheel and resting it on the back of your headrest.

He's right. He's Kim Namjoon; he can have the mall all to himself whenever he pleases. It just reminds you of his power, and how much money can do for someone, though it is something you can never relate to.

"Don't worry, they can wait." He's already pulling up outside the place as he finishes his sentence. You don't linger and quickly get out of the car, following him inside.

"Bienvenue Monsieur," A woman greets you both with enthusiasm and an attractive smile, but you know it's more towards your boss than you.

You clear your throat, making your presence known behind Namjoon's towering figure. The woman finally tears her gaze from the attractive man, raises her brows patiently, and flicks her thick lashes. "...et Madame," she finally acknowledges you. You've been here more than you could count, but she pretends as if she only recognizes your boss. You don't mind that, but the fact that she never greets you is beyond insulting.

The young woman, who seems to be in her early twenties, plasters a forced smile on her lively face as your eyes fall on the tag, pinned to her chest. You can't hide your bitterness when you mumble, "Miss Hwang, est-ce exact?" She nods at your question. You catch the slight twitch of her mouth as she holds eye contact with you. Guess she didn't expect you to know French.