Chapter 1
Jane's POV
Oh, shit... what is that?"
My head is splitting. I barely slept last night because of Dario's birthday party, and now some lousy, inconsiderate person is disturbing the tiny bit of peace I have left.
I wait five whole minutes, hoping the noise will stop.
It doesn't.
Groaning, I sit up, still half-asleep, and fumble through the haze to find whatever decided to ruin my morning. My hand knocks over a book, then a glass of water, before I finally grab my phone.
The alarm is screaming at me.
And then it clicks.
"Oh, shit. I'm late for work."
And just like that , the sleep disappears. I launch out of bed and sprint straight to the bathroom, nearly slipping on the rug on the way.
Great. Perfect start to the day, Jane. Absolutely flawless.
I've never been this fast to dress up in my life when I'm done I Sprint straight too the door without even acknowledging the presence of my Papa and Mama.
" Wait Jane where are you going, you haven't even had breakfast yet"
" I know mama but I'm so late for work"
" but I prepared your tortillas" says my papa
"I'm sorry papi but I really have to go , Adios "
Immediately I enter a bus from the bus station and I'm off to Han and Co Advertising . I know you're all wondering what the shit is going on.
Yeah well It's a long story which I shall tell as my work place is about a 40 minute drive and I'm bored as hell trying my best not to panic. Okay so here it goes.
My name is Jane Alvarez. I'm in my early twenties, graduated from college about five years ago, and somehow managed to land a job at one of the most prestigious advertising companies in the country-yeah, the one I just mentioned.
Han & Co.
And that's where my real problems began.
To be specific, the problem has a name.
Han Min-jae.
My boss.
The man is a walking, talking schedule. I'm pretty sure if you cut him open, instead of blood, spreadsheets would pour out. He runs the American branch of the company like a military camp-everything timed, everything precise, everything perfect.
And me?
I'm the poor soul in charge of making sure his entire life doesn't collapse.
Meetings, emails, lunch, calls with Seoul, calls with clients, calls with people he probably doesn't even like. I handle all of it. If he's early, it's because of me. If he's on time, it's because of me. If he's late...
Well, that has never happened. Because of me.
Five years.
Five whole years of coffee runs, schedule changes, emergency presentations, and last-minute flights.
And today?
I overslept.
The bus hits a pothole, and I nearly bite my tongue.
Great. Just great.
I glance at the time on my phone and feel my stomach drop.
Twenty minutes late.
Twenty.
Min-jae doesn't even tolerate two minutes.
I imagine his face right now-calm, expressionless, eyes sharp enough to cut glass. He probably checked the time exactly at 8:00 a.m., noticed I wasn't there, and silently added it to some invisible mental record of my failures.
Or worse.
He's handling his own schedule.
My eyes widen in horror.
Oh no.
If he touches the schedule himself, everything will be chaos. He'll move meetings, double-book clients, cancel something important, and somehow it will still be my fault.
I press my palms together and whisper, "Please let him still be alive when I get there."
The old woman sitting next to me gives me a concerned look and scoots slightly away.
Great. Now I look insane too.
The bus finally slows to a stop near the glass tower that houses Han & Co. Advertising. The building shines like it's judging everyone who walks past it.
I jump out before the doors are fully open and run toward the entrance, dodging people, nearly colliding with a man holding coffee.
"Sorry!" I shout, not even slowing down.
The lobby doors slide open, and I rush inside, heading straight for the elevators. My reflection in the mirrored wall shows slightly messy hair, uneven eyeliner, and panic written all over my face.
Perfect. Exactly the look of a professional assistant.
The elevator dings.
I step in, press the button for the twenty-third floor, and take a deep breath.
Maybe... just maybe... he hasn't noticed.
The doors open.
And there he is.
Standing right outside his office.
Waiting.
Hands behind his back.
Suit perfectly pressed.
Expression unreadable.
Han Min-jae.
And from the way he's looking at me...
Yeah.
He definitely noticed.