Chapter 7
AARON
To be honest…
I’ve never wanted to touch someone so badly in my life.
Not just a casual brush of hands or a polite, professional handshake.
No, I want to map every inch of Minji’s skin with my fingertips, to rediscover all the places that make her breath catch and her composure crack.
The thought consumes me as I watch her across the conference room, reviewing documents.
It has been three days since we shared dinner at Nakazawa.
It’s like there’s a magnetic field in the room, one that bends photons and logic.
Nobody else seems to notice, or they’re pretending not to.
Even Minji herself, perched at the head of the conference table, perfectly poised, doesn’t give a single outward sign that the air between us is thick enough to shape with a butter knife.
It’s the way she doesn’t look at me—from the moment I entered—and how none of her movements seem accidental.
When she sifts through discovery packets or jots a note in the margin, her focus is absolute.
The only visual cue she’s even aware I exist is when she adjusts her hair behind one ear, a habit she repeats every thirty-two seconds.
I counted.
She’s put together as ever today. Dark navy pantsuit, powder-blue blouse buttoned all the way to the collarbone, and a pale pink lipstick that looks like a concession to the idea of femininity, tactical and almost begrudging.
“Mr. Singleton, are you paying attention? This is the third time today that you have spaced out.” Minji calls me out.
“I’m sorry.” I straighten up in my chair. “I was just processing.”
The other associates around the table shift uncomfortably, sensing the tension between us. Tension that shouldn’t be, because to them, Minji and I barely know each other. Which is still the case, but that dinner has made us more than strangers but less than acquaintances. In my eyes.
“Well, you can process without staring or spacing out.” Her tone professional, almost unbothered. I do spot a slight flush creeping up her neck that tells me she’s not as unaffected as she pretends.
“You’re absolutely right,” I agree, picking up my pen. “I should be documenting this fascinating discussion about… What was it again?”
William Wilson, the attorney who’s been handling Minji’s cases, coughs into his fist. “The Thornton assets.”
“And I hope you’re doing the same.” She cuts her eyes to William. “We wouldn’t be having this meeting if you had done your job correctly.”
I sense there is a story between the two, but I don’t think I want to know. Workplace drama is the worst kind of drama. You must remain professional and respectable or risk losing your job for punching a coworker or two. I’ve been there and done that when I was a retail associate in college.
William’s jaw tightens, his knuckles whitening around his Mont Blanc pen. “I followed standard procedure for offshore accounts—”
“Standard procedure?” Minji’s voice is deadly quiet. “There’s nothing standard about the Cayman shell corporations Mr. Thornton created. You missed three of them. Three.” She holds up her fingers for emphasis.
“I would have found them eventually.” William lets out a deep breath.
“Eventually doesn’t cut it when assets could’ve been liquidated daily.” Minji slides a folder across the table. “I’ve drafted a motion to freeze everything until we get full disclosure.”
I scribble in my notebook, not actual notes about the case but observations about Minji.
The way her eyes flash with annoyance as she speaks to him.
How she taps her index finger twice before delivering a particularly devastating point.
The almost subtle victorious curve of her lips when she knows she’s got the upper hand.
Good to know the fiery side of her from college hasn’t changed.
For forty minutes, Minji dissects the case strategy while William shrinks in his chair.
The paralegals’ fingers blur across their keyboards, capturing every syllable.
I doodle what might be the outline of a new character in the margins of my legal pad, nodding sagely whenever phrases like ‘discovery protocol’ or ‘fiduciary obligation’ float across the table.
The thought of doing this daily—swimming in a sea of technicalities and loopholes—makes my creative soul wither.
When Minji finally releases us from legal purgatory, I fumble with my notebook and pen, stretching the process of packing up. Just as I’m about to make my move, I catch William hovering near her chair. Shit. His body language screams, ‘I need a private word.’
“Can I speak to you in private?” he asks her.
“I can leave, if need be,” I offer. I can always catch up with her later.
“That won’t be necessary,” Minji says. “Whatever you need to say can be handled via email.”
“This requires a face-to-face conversation, Minji.”
“Schedule it with my assistant,” she replies. “I’m booked solid, and as you are aware, the company photoshoot is today. So please reach out to Eliza.”
“Do you have to always be a bitch?” William sighs.
“You know when we were dating, you were never this uptight. Are you not getting fucked regularly?” he whispers, leaning in close enough that the words were meant only for her to hear, but I hear him.
I stand instantly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.
Minji’s expression doesn’t change, but I catch the slight tightening around her eyes, the straightening of her spine.
“That’s enough.” I’m not the confrontational type, but when it comes to Minji, I will always be ready to throw down. “You need to leave.”
“This doesn’t concern you. Why don’t you go back to your little romance fantasies, writer boy? This is between Minji and me.”
Any man calling another grown ass man a boy is disrespectful, and I will not tolerate disrespect.
I move quickly towards him, and Minji blocks my path, placing her hand on my chest. “Look at me,” she repeats it once more.
Reluctantly, my eyes go from William’s to hers.
“I got it. No worries here.” She gives me a small smile, and I let out a deep breath.
That bastard is lucky. Minji saved him.
“Mr. Wilson,” she says, turning around to face him.
“Your comment towards me was inappropriate, and it’s sexual harassment.
If you’d like to continue working at this firm, I suggest you leave now.
This is my last time giving you grace. Next time, I’ll be speaking with HR and Caleb about this incident and the one prior. ”
William’s face flushed an ugly red. “You wouldn’t—”
“I absolutely would.” She cuts him off. “And we both know Caleb takes these matters seriously, especially after the Hong settlement last year.”
The mention of whatever the Hong settlement is makes William pale visibly. He snatches up his leather portfolio and stalks toward the door, slamming it shut behind him. Minji exhales slowly, her shoulders dropping just a fraction.
“I’m sorry about that.” She turns around to face me. “William is…”
“A dickhead?”
“I was going to say unprofessional, but your assessment works too.”
I step closer, careful not to invade her space, but I want to be near her. “Were you two really…”
“Unfortunately,” she admits. “Four and a half years of dating.”
“Four years?” I struggle to keep the surprise from my voice. “I wouldn’t have pictured you with someone like him. I don’t know why I thought your type was someone more… I don’t know, manly?”
Minji gathers her papers, avoiding my gaze.
“Yeah, well, I believed in that silly thing called love and happy endings at one point in time.” Her voice tightens on the last words.
I want to ask her more about William, about what happened, but I remember the boundaries. Her personal life is off-limits.
Instead I say, “For what it’s worth, you handled that with impressive restraint. I was ready to punch the shit out of him.”
“I know. I saw it all over your face, and I’m happy you didn’t.
You would have been escorted out of here and not allowed back on the premises, and I’m sure William would press charges.
” Her phone pings, and she glances at the screen and sighs.
I hope whatever is on her phone can wait.
We’re finally talking to each other after three days.
“It’s almost my turn for the company’s calendar shoot.” She sighs. “I need to go.”
“Mind if I tag along? It might make for an interesting chapter, the corporate ritual of the annual photoshoot.”
“I thought you finished the book.”
“I mean, I did, but I can always throw in a chapter or two.”
“Well, you are more than welcome to tag along if you don’t go throwing punches when you see William. Also, just observe. No commentary during the shoot. Remember you’re still a shadow.”
“Scout’s honor,” I promise, raising three fingers in a salute.
“Were you even a Boy Scout?”
“Not even close,” I admit, with a grin. “Orphanage kids don’t typically join the troops. Well, not at the orphanage I grew up in at least.”
A flicker of surprise graces her face, followed quickly by a kind of reluctant curiosity.
It’s the first personal detail I’ve given, and I can see her cataloging it away, reassessing me in light of this new information.
I’m not ashamed that I grew up in an orphanage, but I don’t like it when people assume things about me because of it.
All my life I had to deal with that shit.
“Come on,” she says finally. “If we’re late, Caleb will assign me December again. I refuse to pose with another Santa hat. I’m eyeing April.”
“Why April?” I ask, taking a step back. However, I already know the answer. It’s her birthday month, but until she remembers me I have to act like I know nothing.