Chapter 8
MINJI
Dr. Montiel’s fingers press around my ankle, the way a jeweler might appraise a flawed but valuable gem, testing the tender spots, rotating the joint in careful increments.
I brace for a reprimand about not resting enough.
Instead, his gaze softens. “The bone has healed nicely,” he assesses, releasing my foot.
“I’m officially clearing you for normal activities. ”
I wiggle my toes, tempted to mention I’ve already been back at work for a week. Instead, I offer a polite smile. “Perfect timing.”
He scribbles something in my chart, not looking up. “Just ease into things. Your body will tell you if you’re pushing too hard.”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry, running isn’t on my to-do list.”
My phone vibrates and I apologize as I pull it out to see Eliza’s name on the screen.
“Hey, Eliza. What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Singleton is here looking for you. I let him know that you’re not in today.”
“Did he say what he wanted?” I ask.
“He said, and I quote, ‘Then I’ll wait until the queen returns to her castle.’ He’s currently sitting in your office reading a book.” Eliza’s voice carries a mixture of amusement and concern. “I can tell him to leave or…?”
“No, that won’t be necessary. Tell him I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Will do!” Eliza’s voice brightens considerably. “He’s actually super nice. He wasn’t annoyed when I asked him to sign my copy of Sinful Love. I told him I was his biggest fan and—”
“Reel it in, Eliza.”
“Sorry.” She chuckles.
“And please make sure he doesn’t touch anything of importance.”
“I’m literally watching him through the open door now. He’s just reading. It’s kind of cute, actually. Like a puppy waiting for its owner.”
I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me. “I’m hanging up now.”
“But seriously, Minji, he seems—”
I end the call before she can say anything more about whatever romantic idea she’s dreaming up. I looked up to see Dr. Montiel staring at me with curiosity.
“Is there someone special waiting for you?”
“Just work,” I reply.
Dr. Montiel makes a vague noise. “Well, whoever it may be, they’re bringing some color to your cheeks. That’s better than any medicine I could prescribe.”
I’m about to argue when he hands me my work clearance letter.
“Thank you, Dr. Montiel.” I take the letter, purposely ignoring his comment about my cheeks.
“Just remember to take it easy, and if you feel any pain, come in immediately.”
“Of course,” I promise, already sliding off the examination table.
Twenty minutes later, I’m in a cab heading back to the office. What does Aaron want? And why couldn’t it wait until tomorrow, when I’m officially back at work?
When the elevator doors open onto our floor, I take a deep breath. Whatever Aaron wants to talk about is probably going to have me banging my head against the wall. I round the corner toward my office, and I spot Eliza’s eager face lighting up at my arrival.
“He’s still in there,” she whispers, leaning across her desk. “Been checking his watch every few minutes.”
“Thank you, Eliza.”
I pause outside my office door, taking a moment to observe him through the glass.
Aaron sits in one of my client chairs, one ankle resting casually on the opposite knee, completely absorbed in a book.
Not one of his, I note, but Ann Shin’s The Last Exiles.
Something about seeing him reading a novel about complicated love across cultures makes me see in a different light—just a tad.
I’ve never read the book, but I heard great things about it. So, kudos to him.
I open the door, and he immediately looks up, a dimpled smile forming as he rises to his feet. “The queen has returned.” He slides a paper clip in his book before putting it down.
“I’m not sure how ‘shadowing me’ translates to getting comfortable in my office when I’m not around.” I move behind my desk.
Aaron shrugs, unfazed by my frosty tone. “Research. Your office tells quite a tale.”
“Does it?” I raise an eyebrow, easing into my chair. “And what story does it tell?”
“Minimal personal items. No family photos, but—” He gestures to the small jade plant in the corner, “—you nurture something living. Oh, and the two boxes of ramen under your desk.” He smiles. “Minji, your story is still a mystery to me right now.”
“What do you want, Aaron? I sent you an email last night that I was off today. Did you receive it? Or do you personally like to stress me out?”
“Sorry, I rarely check my emails, and I would never want to cause you stress. I would love to be your stress reliever.”
“We both know that is a lie. You told me that you always check your emails.” I purposely ignore his flirtatious behavior.
“Well, with you, texting would be better.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk, bringing us closer. “I came here today for two things, actually. First, I wanted to check on you after that situation with William.”
“I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“And second,” Aaron continues, “I wanted to invite you to something.”
“If this is another dinner—”
“It’s not,” he interrupts. “It’s a launch party. For a new comic book series. My brother Axel is the CEO of the company.”
“A comic book launch party?” I repeat, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. “That’s unexpected.”
Aaron’s smile widens, clearly amused by my reaction. “Yeah well, Axel and I grew up together in the system. He’s family, so going to these events is a must.”
Something about the casual way he mentions his past makes me pause.
Aaron rarely speaks about himself, I realize, but this is the second time he’s mentioned this.
For all his probing questions about my life, he keeps his own story carefully guarded behind charming smiles and witty banter.
I wonder if he is ashamed that he grew up in an orphanage.
“What I mean is it’s unexpected that you’d think I would want to go to something like that,” I say. “Why would you invite me?”
“Because Axel is curious about you.” Aaron’s eyes hold mine. “And because I think you might enjoy stepping outside your fortress for an evening. Think of it as shadowing but outside of these four walls.”
“When is this party?” I should be saying no immediately, cementing the boundaries we discussed.
“Friday night at The Beaufort Hotel. You don’t have to answer now.”
“The Beaufort?” The hotel is exclusive and hosts only the most prestigious events. This isn’t some casual gathering in a comic bookstore basement. “That’s quite the venue for a comic launch. Your brother must be doing well.”
“He’s worked hard for it,” Aaron says, pride evident in his voice. “Axel drew comics on any scrap paper and napkins he could find at the orphanage. Now he runs his own publishing company. To say he is only ‘doing well’ is an understatement.”
I find myself wanting to know more about Axel, about the orphanage Aaron grew up in, about the boy Aaron was before he became the successful author sitting across from me. But his personal life isn’t my business, just as mine isn’t his.
“I’ll think about it.”
Aaron nods, accepting my non-answer without pushing. “That’s all I ask. How was your appointment? For your foot. Everything okay?”
“Eliza mentioned you had a doctor’s appointment,” he explains with a small shrug.
“All healed, but I need to take it easy for the next few weeks.”
“That’s good. I was prepared to carry you everywhere if something did happen.”
“Are you coming in tomorrow?” I ask, eager to steer the conversation to safer topics. “I have a client coming and her case is of the utmost importance. I probably won’t be available for most of the morning.”
“Is it a particularly complicated case?”
“It’s sensitive. Very sensitive. A high-profile client who needs absolute discretion. You’ll need to sign an additional NDA before the meeting if you decide you want to sit in.”
“As much as I would love to, I think I’ll sit this one out.” He stands, reaching for his book. “And Minji, I never want to tell a woman how to dress but for Friday, try to avoid beige or gray. It’s a celebration, not a deposition.”
I narrow my eyes. “My wardrobe choices aren’t up for discussion, Mr. Singleton.” The absolute nerve of this man.
“Just a friendly suggestion.” That infuriating dimple appears as he smiles. “Though I will say that black dress from our dinner was quite memorable.”
Before I can formulate a response, he’s heading for the door, pausing when he meets the threshold.
“Oh, and you might want to brush up on your superhero knowledge. Just enough to make conversation. You will stick out like a sore thumb otherwise. If you need someone to go over a knowledge check with, we can have dinner tomorrow night.”
And here he is trying to get me to go to dinner again. I must give it to him; he is persistent.
“I haven’t even said I’m going,” I call after him.
“But you will,” he replies with maddening confidence. Then he’s gone, leaving behind only the lingering scent of his cologne.
I sit back in my chair, pressing my fingertips to my temples. The man is impossible, presumptuous, boundary-pushing, and far too perceptive for my comfort. And yet, I find myself reaching for my phone, opening my calendar to check if I have any conflicts on Friday night.
I don’t.
My finger hovers over Demi’s contact. She would tell me to go, probably squeal with delight at the invitation. She’d also insist on helping me shop for something ‘that would make Aaron Singleton forget how to form sentences.’ I can practically hear her voice in my head.
Instead, I set my phone down and turn to my computer, pulling up information on The Beaufort Hotel’s upcoming events. There it is: Midnight Warriors - Axel Comics. The promotional image shows chic, stylized characters silhouetted against a mythical background.
A soft knock interrupts my research. Cindy peeks her head in, her expression apologetic.