You might want to read this first before you continue. I leave the rest to your imagination. This was never planned to be written as a conclusive story anyway.

...

It was a little past nine when the elevator dinged open and I arrived at my office lobby. The hall was empty and they had turned most of the lights off. Xavier, the janitor, waved at me from across the hall. I could hear the familiar buzzing sound that came out of his vacuum cleaner as he moved back and forth to clean the floor.

“He’s been waiting for you outside,” he tilted his head toward the entrance door and gave me a knowing look, “I told him that you’re always the first to come and the last to leave.”

I let out a small smile and waved back, “Good night, Xav.”

“Good night, Miss Park.”

When Minzy told me earlier today that a particular somebody was asking for me, I had a gut feeling of who was paying a visit to the big apple.

“You never mentioned anything about being friends with the famous actor Choi Seunghyun,” she half pouted while trying to keep up with my brisk steps to the meeting room.

“It’s because we’re not,” I handed her half of the files I had been carrying and used my free hand to fish the vibrating phone out of my purse. It was my organizer alarm, telling that the monthly meeting with the rest of the partners should begin in five.

The young legal assitance rolled her eyes.

“But he’s downstairs now. Shouldn’t you at least go and see him?”

I turned to face her, retracted the files back from her hand, and pushed the meeting room door with my back.

“Just tell him to come back later. Or don’t come back. Whatever.”

The automatic glass door swooshed open, revealing the back view of a tall silver-haired man who immediately turned around at my presence. Clad in crimson-colored tweed coat, black long-sleeved shirts, and fitted grey pants, his thin lips curved into a hesitant smile. That night was the first time I saw him again after his father's funeral six months ago.

“Hey,” he threw his half burnt cigarette to the ground and mercilessly stomped on it.

My brows arched, “What are you doing here?”

“Taking you to dinner.”

“In New York,” I added, questioning whatever his motives.

“Oh,” he grinned, “Lee Byunghun offered me a role in his upcoming project. Another Marvel’s adaptation. And also there’s this photoshoot with Vogue for their winter spread...”

He stopped upon realizing my less-than-impressed expression.

“Well, anyway,” he cleared his throat to dismiss the thickened awkwardness, “Let’s grab something to eat.”

I stared at him unconvincingly for a good one minute before responding with a curt nod.

“There’s a Burger King down the road,” I walked ahead of him but he grabbed my wrist and hailed a cab simultaneously.

“That’s not happening,” he calmly said, “We’re going to Brooklyn, I made a reservation at Chef’s Table.”

...

I thought to myself why I had agreed to his dinner invitation in the first place as I watched him giving autographs to some people who came to our table. He even accepted some picture requests