'Til I Found You (COMPLETED)

3

Amendments and new policies roll out within his first week, including a salary increase—a long-standing request that finally becomes a reality. It plasters a smile on everyone’s face, everyone except Lea. She remains tight-lipped about their "history." No one knows their secret, and the effort it takes to shun the inevitable rumors makes her irritable and short-fused.

He is austere, focused, and professional. His undeniable aesthetic and stoic nature make the other women in the faculty drool, but Lea remains the outlier. Still, her workday never ends without hearing his name; he is the undisputed darling of the academy. Between welcoming the handsome new director and the looming chaos of finals week, everyone is exhausted.

When Monday night arrives, Lea finds herself wishing she could stop the Earth from revolving. She stares at her reflection in the mirror for the nth time, feeling a deep sense of discomfort. The honk of a car outside is her cue.

She trails down the stairs, bracing herself. As she twists the doorknob and steps out, she finds him leaning against his matte black car, arms crossed like a beau ideal. His eyes scan her entirely—noting how stunning, seductive, and hot she looks in her light blue fitted dress and high heels. Her red, plump lips are the perfect chic touch. As she walks toward him, the world seems to stop for him. He is instantly transported back to the first night she caught his eye.

♡ ♡ ♡

The cold breeze hugs his skin as he walks out of his establishment. It has been a grueling day spent updating the menus for all four of his branches. He is determined to stay ahead of the trending Korean food craze and outpace his competitors. It took a month of meticulous planning, but it’s a success. He should be celebrating.

If only Luisa were here. She was his first everything—the first love he can never truly replace. In his younger years, he was driven by a desperate passion for success. When the opportunity to study culinary arts abroad arose, he grabbed it, even though it meant leaving her behind. Luisa begged him to stay. For a while, the distance wasn't a problem, but good things often reach a sudden end. She grew tired of waiting. By the time he realized it, she was with someone else.

He didn't give up easily, but love had evaporated from her heart. She married another man. Five years have passed, and he hasn't looked at another woman since. He wants his first love to be his last.

The nearby bar is his usual refuge. Tonight, he sits alone, watching old couples dance to the soothing music. His parents are due to visit from Alaska soon, and the pressure they put on him is mounting. they want to see him with someone new; they want him to move past the ghost of Luisa.

"One martini," he orders.

As he enjoys the unique, relaxing ambiance, his gaze shifts. A few feet away, he finds a mesmerizing woman sitting alone. The light catches her lovely face as she scrolls through her phone. Her uniform suggests she’s office staff or a bank teller, but he doesn't care about the details. He is drawn to her. He moves to approach her, but a crowd cuts him off. By the time he clears the gap, she is leaving.

Disappointment sets in, but he heads for his car. Just as he unlocks the door, a voice calls out from behind him.

"Excuse me? That’s my car."

It’s her. The woman from the bar.

"Miss, it’s mine. You probably have the wrong car," he explains. She is clearly intoxicated.

"That’s mine. Don’t bug me," she snaps, stumbling forward. She trips, and he catches her.

"You’re drunk," he says.

"I’m. Not," she insists. Suddenly, she retches, throwing up all over his shirt.

"What the—!" He pulls away, but she goes limp in his arms.

With no other choice, he takes her to his place. He lays her on his bed, grimacing at her soiled uniform. He can't leave her like this. He grabs a clean white shirt from his chair.

The room is dim, lit only by the moonlight peeking through the window. As he unbuttons her blouse, his breathing turns heavy. The moonlight kisses her smooth, fair skin and exposed legs. The white shirt clings to her voluptuous body. If staring were a crime, he’d be behind bars.

The tension is too much. He spends the night in a cold shower, a desperate, manly need he hasn't felt in ages. Cussing as he reaches his climax, he decides to sleep on the living room sofa. His self-control isn't strong enough to share a bed with her.

The next morning, he wakes up late to a flood of messages from his secretary. When he checks the bedroom, she is gone. His white shirt is neatly folded on the bed. A wave of dismay hits him—she left without a word. He decides then and there to track her down.

The world conspires in his favor.

"I'll buy it," he tells Mr. Tan, the owner of the school where she teaches.

"But Sir, there's already a buyer..."

"I'll double the price," he cuts him off with a smirk.

• • •

The venue is packed with prominent business figures. Lea feels edgy and out of place. Her anxiety spikes at the thought of meeting a former client, but the feeling fades the moment he slides his fingers between hers.

She glances at him, but he keeps his eyes forward. His warm hold turns into a gentle, protective grip that makes her heart pound. It has been years since she felt this way—safe.

All eyes are on them as they step into the room. He wears a wide, confident smile; she forces herself to do the same.

"Mr. Martinez, long time no see," an old man says, approaching them.

"Mr. Uy, I thought you were on vacation," he smiles back.

"Business comes first. Now, introduce me to this beautiful woman."

As he introduces her, his arm slips around her waist. Her cheeks heat up. True to his word, he never leaves her side. He acts as a shield, fending off every enamored man who tries to show interest.

"Thank you," he utters once they are back in the car.

"Do I have a choice?" she retorts.

"I walk the talk, Lea. I’ll pay the agreed amount for this." He starts the engine.

"I don't need your money. I just... I don't have a choice," she sighs.

"Fine. But the deal stands. By the way, I’m meeting some old friends next Saturday. I need you there, too."

She looks at him. "You still haven't told me your story. Why do I have to keep pretending?"

"Then let’s stop pretending," he grins, his eyes flashing with mischief. "Let's make it real."

She raises a brow. "In your dreams. We don't even know each other."

He chuckles, and to her surprise, she laughs along. Being with him feels dangerously comforting. But as she looks out the window, a somber thought takes hold. A decent man like him doesn't deserve someone with my past.