“How was your trip?” Jongin asks, handing me a hot cup of tea to help with the jetlag. He sits next to me placing his arm behind me along the back of the couch and props his feet up on the coffee table.

I take a sip and inevitably burn my tongue. “It was nice,” I say before blowing on the hot liquid in the mug. “It’s a little too crowded over there though.”

“Did you go shopping?” He looks away from the TV for a moment and watches me with a smirk on his face.

“Maybe,” I answer, still blowing on the tea. He watches me for a moment longer through squinted eyelids and returns his eyes back to his sports highlights. He knows ‘maybe’ will almost always mean yes in my case. I was never one to beat around the bush when it came to saying no, but for some reason it wasn’t always easy for me to yes. Maybe’s are so much easier.

“I’m sure your seven thousand dollar dress will be beautiful.”

My head snaps towards his direction and I stare at him with rounded eyes. “How’d you know?” I whine.

“You used our bank account?” I think back to the credit card I swiped and I slap a hand to my forehead. It wasn’t my fault that I mixed up the two cards. They were from the same bank. But that specific account sent notifications straight to Jongin’s email. “Hey, I told you it was supposed to just be a window shopping thing.”

“Yeah, well, you know me. I’m so easily blown away by pretty things,” I admit.

“I know,” he says with a smirk. “It’s why you’re marrying me.”  I choke on my tea and he pats my back.

“Yes, Jongin, not because you have a personality or anything. But because you're pretty,” I say sarcastically.

“My bank account should also be added to that equation,” he jokes.

“Speaking of money… This guy tried to steal my bag over there too,” I say, changing the subject. I almost forgot how terrifying that moment actually was. “Out of all the people walking around Times Square, I was targeted.”

“That bag is pretty expensive,” Jongin replies. He bought it for me last Christmas and I hadn’t stopped using it since. “Well, it’s still sitting in its holy grail in the room, so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“The guy had a gun, Jong, it was pretty bad.”

He looks over at me and rubs my shoulder noticing the distress on my face. “How’d you get out of that mess?”

“That guy I was with turned out to be some super hapkido master and he just handled it,” I say, recalling the event.

 He wraps both of his arms around me and places a gentle kiss on my cheek. “I’ll have to thank him some day.”

Thanking Baekhyun was the last thing Jongin should be thinking.

***
 

“Hey, good work on the meeting last week. I heard you did well,” my boss says approaching my desk.

“Thanks,” I say, looking up at her. She was never one to give compliments, so it was a bit shocking. I glance at the stack of papers in her arms and hope they aren't for me, but then she dumps a mountain of files on my desk and it isn’t that shocking anymore.

Hyosung is holding back a laugh across from my desk and I try hard to keep a straight face. “Have these done by the end of the day.” Her tone is back to its normal rigid self and she strides off, heels clicking all the way to her office.

 I grab the first folder at the top of the stack and begin inputting it into the system. I am nearly halfway through the files when I notice Baekhyun speed walking to his office looking more than disheveled. His hair’s a mess (which actually isn’t really a bad thing), his eyes are tired, and his tie’s undone and hanging around his neck.

“Wonder what happened to him,” I think out loud as I watch him all the way to his office.

“He probably woke up late,” Hyosung assumes and I raise an eyebrow at her.

“You? Defending Baekhyun? That’s new,” I comment. Hyosung’s always hated Baekhyun and seized every opportunity to make a snide comment about him.

“I wasn’t defending him; I was just… stating the obvious. …And maybe I ran out of sarcastic remarks, I don’t know.” She violently jabs at her mouse and frustratedly slams it down on her desk. I watch her with an amused smile. “I think my brand new printer’s broken.”
 

The company decided to get everyone individual printers for their desks, instead of a few central printers on each floor for efficiency. Which did mean less trips to the supply closet, but that's probably a good thing. 

“Uh… What the heck?” Jongdae, the guy whose cubicle is directly adjacent to Hyosung's, says out loud. Papers are printing from his printer nonstop and they all happened to be Hyosung’s. To my left, I hear Luhan snickering to himself.

“Oh my god, you rewired the printers, Luhan?!” Jongdae complains. “No wonder you were here so early…”

I roll my eyes. Luhan’s the prankster of the office, so this came as more of an annoyance then a surprise to us. One time he programmed the copy machine to only print out copies of his face, which was stupid because he was caught right away, and another time he changed all of the languages on our computer to Russian and we couldn’t even type in our password to actually get into the computer. These things happened more often than not. “You’re an idiot,” I mutter to the delinquent.

“Whoa, those are strong words coming from the girl that’s sleeping with the finance manager,” Luhan disputes. The three of us stare at him with wide eyes from his sudden jab and Jongdae quietly shushes the boy. Luhan stares back at us with his confused doe like eyes. “Oh, sorry, was I not supposed to say that…?” Jongdae face palms with a shake of the head and my cheeks burn.

Baekhyun comes out of his office and walks past the mess of a situation happening at our cubicles without even a glance in my direction. His tie was tied and his hair was settled into place, but his eyes were cold and hard.

I quickly shake myself out of the trance and stare down Luhan. “If you dare speak a word of that ever again I will not hesitate to throw your beloved 3DS out the window.” Luhan would always be on the handheld device more than he actually did his work. It was beside me how the boy ever got his work done let alone was still employed in the office.

His eyes widen and he brings his hand up to his forehead in a salute. “Yes Ma’am.”

Everyone returned back to their work and Jongdae hands Hyosung the multiple copies of files that were printed from his own printer. She leaned forward and whispered to me, “Do we really talk that loud?”

“Yeah,” Luhan and Jongdae say in unison with their eyes glued to their screens. Jongdae’s ‘yeah’ sounds more hesitant than Luhan’s straightforward tone. Hyosung makes a face and I can only wonder what other secrets the two could possible know about us.

***

The phone on my desk rings and I groan, thinking that it’s probably my boss needing me to run another errand for her. I’ve been waiting for her to hire a new assistant so I don’t have to keep being her lackey but she’s taking her sweet time with that.

I pick up the phone and am surprised to hear a deeper voice on the other end. “Hey, come to my office. I need to talk to you.” I stare across the floor at Baekhyun’s office. The door’s closed, which is unusual because it’s always open.  I slowly place the phone back in its cradle and Hyosung looks at me waiting for me to tell her what’s up with the look on my face.

“Baekhyun told me to meet me in his office,” I whisper, but I figure it’s no use since apparently both Luhan and Jongdae have supersonic hearing. “He said he needed to talk to me,” I say while standing up.

“You’re not seriously going over there are you? It’s a trap,” Hyosung asserts.

“It’s not… that,” I say, trying to avoid talking about so openly now that I knew that two next to us were always listening. “He sounded serious.”

“Seriously ,” Luhan jokingly mutters and I grab a pen off of my desk and pelt it at his head. He successfully dodges it, but I throw another and it hits him square in the eye. “Hey, you’re lucky I closed my eyes or you could have a lawsuit on your hand,” he says pointing at me with the pen and rubbing his eye looking like a 5 year old wiping tears out of his eye. I will never understand how Luhan is older than me.

I continue on my way to Baekhyun’s office and wonder what he could possibly want. He wouldn’t call me into his office just for . Would he?

I walk into his office and plan to leave the door open, but he tells me to close it behind me and I suddenly feel like Luhan was right (which is something I would not easily admit to).

I slowly sit down at one of the chairs in front of his desk and watch his expression to try and get a read on the situation at hand. However, Baekhyun’s face remains stoic and it’s clear to me that something’s wrong.

“Minkyung knows.”