Mia Scott had been married to her husband for half a decade but as time goes on, love and desire dwindle farther and farther from her life.
Working at an advertising agency in Paris, she lands her biggest client to date, Chanel, when a devilishly ha...
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"So the photoshoot for the new fragrance is tomorrow morning," I casually mention as I sit next to Jimin on his couch with my legs comfortably tucked underneath me.
Taking another sip of his wine, he turns his body to face me. "It is. Should we show up together or just pretend we're meeting there? Would I get fired for living with you?"
Giggling at his questions, I place my glass onto the intricately carved coffee table before turning to face him as well. "Hm, I definitely don't think you'll be fired. I'm pretty sure there's no clause in your contract about having zero contact with someone from an entirely different company. Otherwise, we would have never become friends."
"Good point," he chuckles and my body tingles at his lingering gaze into my eyes.
"As for the photo shoot," I continue, "we may as well arrive together. I doubt anyone would notice and quite frankly, it's none of their fucking business."
Smirking at my outburst of profanity, he leans his side onto the back of the cream-colored sofa with his head resting in the crook of his arm, "You're adorable, you know that?"
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. "I'm not."
"You definitely are," he says just above a whisper as his index finger slowly traces the edge of my thumb and making my heart accelerate. Clearing his throat, he pulls back abruptly and bashfully looks at me. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking about what I was doing. I think three glasses of wine is my limit for tonight."
"I didn't mind," I meekly respond and watch him try to hold back a smile.
He and I had been casually talking for the last three hours ever since we finished our dinner and plopped down in this very spot. The only indication of time passing was the black velvet sky outside of his wall-to-wall windows and the now empty bottle placed between our mostly finished wine glasses.
Even though we both have work tomorrow and an early morning shoot that we are required to attend, I really don't want the night to end. I never want things to end when he's around.
"I'm going to call it a night," I state to break the comfortable silence between us and force myself to go to bed. "We'll need to be ready to go by six a.m."
"Well then, I guess this is where I tell you good night." He stands and holds out his hand for mine to help me up from the couch as if I needed the assistance. Maybe I appear more intoxicated than I feel.
Standing up, my leg tingles from sitting on it for so long and it's hard for me to apply pressure to it. Wincing at the prickling sensation while blood rushes back to the limb, I giggle and hold onto his shoulders to keep myself from falling back over.
"My leg is asleep," I bashfully inform him.
"I hate when that happens." Jimin pulls me closer to his frame as his hands glide over my waist to keep me steady.
