Kim Hana, a successful business woman, meets Jeon Jungkook who runs a business too. The two young aspiring CEOs are then bound together by a frustrating court case. Will Kim Hana learn to love a CEO?
Headline: Kim Hana at the Red Carpet, Arms Linked with Jeon Jungkook
"Really?" my eyes widen.
"Sure, just wear a watch to the event," he winks as he gets to his suits. An outfit in hand, he walks over beside me.
Is that vanilla? Refreshing, but warm.
I watch as he cocks his head to the side before sliding the glass open and taking out a silver one. He presses it into my hand with a crooked smile.
"Wear this one," he grins before walking out. I grip the cold metal, heart thrumming.
"Let's go, Kim!" he calls out and I quickly walk out.
The whole way to the door I am admiring the watch.
"Aren't you one of the richest people in Korea?" he asks in amusement as he locks the front doors.
"I don't spend money on watches," I mumble. I hear him snicker before his hand appears in front of my gaze. I lift my head up.
"Yeah?" I ask.
"Keys. You're going to be so distracted by the watch you'll crash the car," he chuckles. I roll my eyes and throw the keys at his arm - he somehow catches it.
"Does it even match with the dress?" his brows raise as we enter the car.
"Doesn't matter, I'm wearing it," I smile brightly. He laughs.
"Thank you...?" he probes. I groan.
"Yes, yes, thank you Jeon Jungkook," I mock him.
***
I walk into my living room, Jungkook trailing behind me. Just then, my phone vibrates.
Minnie: yo ill meet you at the event yea?
Me: mmhm ill see you
"Okay, we have like, one and a half hours to get ready. Get changed and we'll meet back here to do touch-ups," I instruct. Mira and I had perfected this routine.
"Yes ma'am," he mock salutes.
"Bathroom's down the hallway, I'll take the one beside my room," I say as I take the box the staff wrapped for me.
***
I pat my dress down and look at myself in the mirror.
Sigh. Okay.
I pad into my closet for a set of heels before walking out into the living room where I see Jungkook cuffing his sleeves.
He cleans up nicely. Not that he doesn't look nice in informal wear- what am I saying? We're in our twenties, we look good in anything.
"Ready to get started?" I ask with a grin and he looks up. He is in the cosiest-looking turtleneck with a black suit. Black is his colour - hell, everything is his colour.
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