All eyes were focused on us as we stepped out of the car, causing everyone to come to a halt and pause their work. Adjusting my glasses, I proceeded forward in an attempt to leave quickly, the sound of my heels clicking echoing in the silence that filled the air, reminiscent of an examination hall. It felt as if time had frozen, much like in time travel movies.
Mr. Han cleared his throat and glanced around, prompting others to resume their tasks, as if time had suddenly started moving again. The atmosphere left me feeling incredibly uneasy. I lowered my gaze, readjusted my glasses, and hurriedly made my way to the ladies' restroom.
Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I let out a sigh, Oh my gosh, that was very awkward.
"You okau?" I turn to my left at the familiar voice. "That was definitely a centre of attention." Charlotte chuckles.
"It was freaking awkward." I say, taking another look at myself.
"You know why?,” she asks, taking my attention. She takes a step forward and moves her closer to the mirror. She pulls out her lipstick from her bag and carefully applies it delicately, tracing along her already plump red lips. 
"Why?" I ask, looking at image qith furrowed brows.
With a slight pout, she gently rubs her lips together and puts the lipstick on the sink. She turns to her right, and I look at her, a wide grin playing on her face.
"Han doesn't drive anyone, you know, not even his personal assistant. He prefers travelling alone, and that smile he had when he was next to you, it will surely make others look in horror.” she says as she pulled out her compact powder.
"Are you close to him?,” I ask curiously to know the relationship between them because he doesn't treat her like he treats his staff.
"We've known each other since college, and my father is a friend of his uncle. Despite our connections, you know he rarely talks to casually. " She dabs the sponge on her cheeks  and after a lottle touch-up, she puts all in her bag.
I move my head backwards as Charlotte takes steps towards me and moves her head closer to mine. "He surely has sonething on you." She quips, "You're special."
"That's nonsense." I snarl, taking a step back, and I leave the washroom.
He has something on me. He surely has something on me because I just made him arrange a stack of books with me. Anyway, I can not resist myself from having a positive thought of him as he bought me the book. 
Entering my cabin, I promptly gather the files that need to be set. Glancing at the clock, I note that it is currently half past ten, meaning we will be heading out for lunch in two hours. Dylan dropped me a message asking whether I would be there and was happy to know our upcoming official meeting as business associates.
I stretch my arms, yawning, and I ease my shoulders as I lean back into my chair. Ny phone rings and sit upright as I pick up the call.
"Hello," I say drowsily.
"Ms Anna, I'm waiting for you, in the parking lot." The dry familiar voice informed and quickly moved the phone screen to my view, noticing the time, it's twelve, and we should be there in half an hour. I grab my bag from the table, and I rush out. On my way, I save Mr. Han's number.
Contact: Mr Weirdo
"Sorry for the delay,” I apologiz , getting in I fasten up my seat belt and turn towards my left meeting those two deep orbs staring at me.
"Done?" He asks, a subtle hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
He smiled, and it was small but charming. 
Based on everything I have heard about Mr. Han, it was believed that he never smiled, not even when a camera was aimed at him, he rarely was approachable and friendly. However, it doesn't seem like it. Perhaps, the gossip surrounding him was merely unfounded speculation.
"Yes," I nod and he starts the engine.
As we arrived at the restaurant, we made our way towards the reserved room. Inside, we found a man who appeared to be in his mid-forties. His hair was a mix of salt and pepper, and he was dressed in a grey tuxedo with his coat left unbuttoned, a white shirt and a plain grey tie. Standing beside him was a younger individual, likely in his early thirties, with gelled-up blonde hair that accentuated his blonde eyebrows, a pair of blue pants, a light blue shirt, and a blue tie adorned with white spots. On the other side stood Dylan, flashing a smile at me, dressed in a simple white shirt paired with black denim. Dylan had a penchant for casual attire, always opting for anything other than a suit, and yet he managed to look effortlessly stylish. However, on occasions that demanded a more formal dress code, he would don a suit and exude undeniable attractiveness.
Mr. Han I and walked to the table and before taking our seat we did formal handshakes. Mr. Han sat opposite to the oldest person, and  I settled in front of Dylan.
Walking towards the table, we did all the hand shakings, Mr Han sat opposite the person who was with salt and pepper hair, and I sat opposite Dylan.
The topic of discussion revolved around the upcoming project, which involved the construction of a new hotel. Dylan's company, Perfectin, had been entrusted with the task of handling the interior design. Although the company was still in its early stages of development, it had already gained a reputation for providing high-quality services and was poised to become a leader in the industry. As the discussion progressed, I diligently took notes on the key points that needed to be documented. Once the conversation concluded, everyone rose from their seats and exchanged handshakes, expressing their enthusiasm for collaborating with one another. The other two men bid their farewells and departed, leaving only Dylan, Mr. Han, and myself in the room.
"Heading home?" Dylan asks, it's evening now, and I've got nothing else to do in the office. 
"I'll drive you.” Mr. Han interrupts from behind me, he takes a step ahead next to me.
"Hello, I'm Anna's friend, Dylan," Dylan introduces himself again with a different tag. He moves his hand forward casually as they did it formally earlier.
Looking up at Mr Han, I notice his clenched, his already sharp jawline tightened. What gone into him now? Why isn't he replying?
"Mr. Han," I interject, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled between us. I extend my hand towards Dylan, who still has his arm outstretched for a handshake. However, before our skin can make contact, Mr. Han swiftly takes hold of Dylan's palm and initiates the handshake. Observing his demeanor, it is evident that Mr. Han is making a conscious effort to maintain a gentle grip.
Is he crazy? Why is he treating my friend like he never wanted to meet him? Jerk!
"Mr Han, Ms Anna's boss.” he says in pride.
Does he have to tag himself as that, like come on Dylan already knows, he is my boss and they already did all these earlier as business partners but isn't this introduction of becoming close.
This man is dumb, I mean my jerk boss is dumb.
"I've heard about you from Anna,” Dylan says passing me a playful wink. This guy will never be good at keeping in secrets, he always has the desire to tease me with my secrets.
"Good to know that Ms. Anna speaks about me, I hope it isn't something bad." Mr. Han sneers passing a glare at me. 
"It definitely is." Dylan say, holding in his laughter.
"And Anna, shall I..."
"I'll drive her home." Mr. Han interrupts, politeness forced in his tone. I look up at him ro see him watching Dylan with a tight smile.
"Okay, I actually thought of driving you home but see you later. I gotta go and discuss about this with them.“ Dylan recounts and takes a step back with a wide grin. "I'll call you later," he says as he walks past me.
"Alright, Mr Han. Goodbye.” He bids as he picls his bag from the table we sat and leaves.
"Am I off now? Or should we gobto the office." I adjust my glasses walking back to table to pick my bag.
"Wait," Mr. Han's voice makes me to atop before I could keep a couple of steps.
"Yeah,"I ask, turning around with the tip of my heels.
"I'll drive you and—"
"And?" I ask looking up at him with raised eyebrows and my hands crossed.
He looks around, euns his hand on his head and looks down at me. "I want you to do me a favour." He says after a long silence. 
Alright, his voice was simcere enough tobask for a favour and that look on his face, damn, he is adorable. Mr Han the one known of beingcold-heartedd ,the popular, the hottest CEO, is asking me a favour so cutely. 
Really, this is something which should be trending in social media I guess because he is a favour of media.
"What?" I interrigate crunching up nose,  curious to know what he wants me to do. What can I do for him in the first place?
He stoops down, aligning with my height, his eyes directly staring into mine. "Be my girl!"he murmurs softly.
"What?" I exclaim, my voice nearly escaping at a higher volume.
Thank God that we are in a secluded space, as otherwise, I would have undoubtedly drawn the attention of the surrounding crowd.
"My mom arranged me a date and I'm not interested in it so I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend." He explains as he stands straight, and lowers his gaze.
I stare up at him taken back. I know that sounds reasonable or why would he ask me to be his girlfriend out of all those hot girls are after him? It doesn't make sense and we just met yesterday.
"Why don't you tell your mom that you don't like it?" I ask, throwing daggers at him.
"If I could, why would I ask you to help me?" he shrugs, like I'm the one seeking for help. That attitude, I'm not gonna think highly of him anymore because he got me the book— by the way, did I ever think highly of him except the fact thatvhe is too good looking. 
"But sorry I can’t, get someone else to do it." I roar as I turn around to walk away.
Abruptly he pulls me into in a hug, I freeze startled. His touch made me feel something else , all I could hear was his loud heartbeat. I know this sound insane, but even it was a sudden forced reaction, I get this feeling like, i don't know, I've felt this before. Every time when Ibjad a bad day, when my mother threw tabtrums at me, when the fight of my parents were to be heard through the neighbourhood, when I sagmt out on the staircase, this warmth comforted me. It feels like this feeling has been stored at the back of myvhead wjere I could recall in an instant. 
"I won't let you go until you say yes,” he demands and his voice brought me back to reality.  
I blink and inhale his scent, the smell of rosewood. Damn, this guy!!! He looks good, smells good but his personality needs some improvement. Really, this is so childish. How could he even think of convincing someone like this.
"Let go!" I screech like a witch and wiggle in his hold, but I couldn't move him even an inch.
Alright, it seems like his trick worked because I've been trying to get rid of him, but I couldn't do it and this foul act is somewhat convincing. I chuckle at my mentally imagining to hug someone ordering him to buy me books.
"Okay, okay... I'll do it." I say in gritted teath and he releases me the next second.
Why did I even agree to it? Ahave gone stupid being with him?
"Thanks." He says, and his usual voice is back. He adjusts his collar and walks away.
"You're incredibly immature." I comment aloud. However he waves itvoff dramatically. 
He is crazy, I mean, really crazy