I wake up today to an e-mail from Yeri of my full itinerary for today, and it’s horrible.

I had thrown myself onto my bed the moment I stepped into my bedroom yesterday, falling asleep from seven p.m in my work clothes up to this morning when the sunlight glared through my windows. Apparently, it’s a good thing that I didn’t draw in my curtains last night, because if the sun didn’t wake me up, I would have missed my brunch meeting with a new possible client because my phone had died last night.

So now I’m driving to this newly opened café situated right in the heart of Seoul with my phone very slowly charging next to me on the passenger seat, the red LED light blinking obnoxiously as if telling me what an irresponsible person I’m being right now. I can’t use it yet because it’s still on twenty percent, and it’s killing me because I have a few unanswered texts and a couple of missed calls from Minseok.

I silently pray that there is still a good ten minutes of drive before arriving at the café because I kind of need that charging time, but before I knew it, the stupid GPS woman’s voice announces that the location I’m headed to is on my right.

Perfect. It’s one of those nature-themed expensive-looking cafés that looks like it only has three breakfast meals on the menu, and their parking space is right next to the street. It’s like god knows I’ve had a horrible start to my week and he thinks it’s good to keep the horrible streak.

“What is this, New York or something?” I mutter under my breath as I skim through the rows and rows of import cars, already picturing what food I’ll have Yeri order for me as soon as I get into the office later, because obviously this café’s ten-thousand won French toast isn’t going to feed my hunger.

Thankfully, I find a spot next to a shiny black 2018 range rover Evoque, and I curse all the way through my parking attempt because now my Toyota Camry is going to look like next to it. Stepping out of the car with forced positivity, I unplug my phone and throw it into my bag hoping that the café comes with a charging station. I look at the time on my wristwatch and I’m proud to say that I’m actually ten minutes early.

Not so surprisingly, there is a waiting line right in front of the café, and I wince at the length because I’m not in my most comfortable heels today. I had dressed to impress, not for comfort. Hesitantly, I approach the line, hoping that my client had already reserved a spot for us today.

“Reservations under Kim Jun…moon?” I tell the hostess unconfidently.

“Oh, come with me please,” to my surprise, the girl doesn’t even go through the list she’s holding on her hand before she smiles at me. I follow her through the whole café, and she leads me to the second floor where it’s significantly quieter and the music is calmer. She walks me to a table right next to the balcony overlooking the garden they apparently have, and apparently, my client is already there.

“Mr. Kim! I must’ve misread the time that my assistant had sent me, I’m so sorry for making you wait. Did you wait here long?” I apologize in panic, bowing my head repeatedly towards the man sitting in front of me. I try to remember the time written on the pdf file Yeri had sent me this morning, and I’m pretty sure that he’d made an appointment at 10a.m. It’s not even 9.50 yet!

“You’re not late at all! My work is just around the corner, so I figured I’d stop by early. Please take a seat,” he smiles at me, urging me to take a seat with both of his hands. So I do.

He offers me his hand to shake and sends a handsome smile at me (even though I can’t see his face because he’s wearing these huge sunglasses) as he introduces himself.

“Kim Junmyeon. You can call me Junmyeon,” his handshake is firm and confident, and I’m thankful that he introduced himself first because I’m pretty sure I’d thought his name was Junmoon.

“Bae Seolhwa.”

The first thing I notice from Kim Junmyeon is his pale, pale skin, from his hands to the exposed parts of his face and the smooth expanse of skin that peeks through his ed floral silk blouse. I can instantly tell that he’s a man that puts thoughts into his outfits, and that can either make it or break it as a client for me. Sometimes it gets complicated when certain clients insist on bad designs just because they think it’ll look good, but most of the times it’s not, so I’m hoping he’s the latter kind.

“I still apologize for making you wait, though. Had I known, I would’ve gotten here earlier,” I smile apologetically, patting down my skirt and putting down my bag on my lap. “Have you ordered already?”

“Now that you asked I realized I haven’t, but feel free to order anything first,” he tells me, reaching for the menu placed in the middle of the table. He frowns at the menu for a split of a second, before finally taking off his sunglasses. “Wait—I’ve been very rude, haven’t I? I forgot to take off these sunnies because it was just so bright this morning. Sorry.”

The second he looks up at me, my heart stutters a little. The man is absolutely gorgeous. I guess today isn’t so bad after all. Somehow, though, he looks a little familiar like I’ve seen him somewhere before. I don’t have time to think about that, though.

“No problem. Though I was kind of hoping that you had ordered something first, because I’ve actually never been here before, as embarrassing as that sounds,” I reply, looking through the surprisingly impressive amount of food choices that are listed on the menu.

“My favorite is actually not on the menu, but I can get that for you if you’d like. Do you fancy salmon?” I notice that Junmyeon has a very sophisticated vocabulary, and I don’t know whether I should be awed at the level of intelligence the man has or be scared that he’s going to find out that the designer he’s going to hire is actually stupid.

“I don’t mind salmon. I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” I smile politely, settling the menu back onto the table quietly. Junmyeon returns the smile handsomely, showcasing his perfect pearly-whites before he raises his hand to call for a waiter.  My eyes wander to the garden right under this balcony we’re sitting on as Junmyeon orders our food, thinking about my schedule for the rest of the day.

Right after this brunch with Kim Junmyeon, I have a work lunch with my Seoul branch staffs that’s long overdue, followed by a final dress fitting with one of my clients, and then a meeting with my interior designer for my Busan branch boutique over dinner.

I let out an involuntary sigh that catches Junmyeon’s attention and I mentally curse myself for being so unprofessional.

“Is everything