Taehyung flicked the flint wheel of his silver lighter, bringing the flame inches from his lips as he lit another cigarette. Closing the zippo with a "clink" he looked at the clock once again. He was already five minutes late, but he didn't care.
Taking a long drag, he unfolded his notepad, reading the details he had written down when you called him yesterday. Normally, he would have researched you before the first meeting. But yesterday, he was too busy drowning himself in a flood of liquor and tits at the strip club down the street from his basement apartment. He hadn't even bothered to shower this morning – he was sure there was probably still a ring of lipstick tacky around his cock.
"I need you to investigate my husband," you had told him over the phone. These were his least favourite cases. Domestic disputes. Most of the time they ended up coming from some lonely housewife who spent her days primping herself for the ungrateful, cheating bastard she married because he had money. That's what he suspected anyways. That's why he didn't bother to put on his best face for you. Why he didn't care that his suit was the one he wore yesterday, or that he didn't do his research before he got there.
When he was done, he considered lighting another. He even considered driving away – it's not like he wanted the job anyway. The problem was, he needed it. He needed to pay the bills. With that in mind, he sighed a "let's get this over with" and pulled himself from the car, dropping the butt onto the ground before he made his way up the stoney path towards the visitor's entrance.
"Welcome to Devil's Garden," a bright, young woman greeted him as he passed across the threshold and into the cool, air-conditioned building. It was a relief to feel the dehumidified air in the middle of the long, hot summer. The air-conditioning in his car had died years ago, and his apartment never had it, so moments like these always felt like a luxury occasion. His eyes scanned the multitude of wine bottles perched upon the wood palette wall behind the hostess. Perhaps, after business was taken care of, he'd stay for a while - bask in the air-conditioning and try a bottle... or three.
"Are you here for the tour? A tasting?" the hostess asked him after a long pause.
"Uhh... no... I'm here to meet someone," he replied, unable to recall your name from memory.
"Oh?" her eyes widened as she waited for him to continue.
"Umm..." Taehyung flipped through his notepad and began searching for the page with your details. He could feel the eyes of the hostess on him and the unease she emitted as she tried to piece together what he was even doing here. Relieved, he found the page, confirming it was the right one by the address to 'The Devils Garden Winery' which he had messily scribbled across it in red ink. "...I'm here to see a Miss Y/N..."
"Mr. Kim?" he was cut off by the sound of someone calling his name. He looked confused back up to the hostess but noticed her gaze had been diverted to something behind him – to the place where the voice came from. He followed where her eyes led, twisting away from the counter to gaze down the corridor until his eyes landed onto the figure walking towards him. A woman was approaching them.
No.
A beautiful woman was approaching him. He had seen his fair share of attractive women in his life, but it had been long since he had seen a woman stunning enough to stun him.
It wasn't anything in particular about her that had his breath catching in his throat. Perhaps it was a little bit of everything. Perhaps it was the simple, light, white, strappy cotton dress that hung softly over her hips and teased a glimpse of her breasts; or maybe it was the red rubber working boots she paired with it. Perhaps it was the way her skin glistened, slightly dampened in sweat - or the way her hair, once probably perfectly in place but now wind swept – all indicators that she had been working hard outdoors that morning. Or perhaps it was the way she sashayed down the hall; the brightness in her eyes; her aura and confidence that radiated through the room. Whatever it was about her, it spoke to Taehyung – or at least, it spoke to the now attentive friend he had in his pants.
