Stolen Kiss

The café was calm warm lights, soft chatter, 

the faint clink of cups and plates. And there he was.

Vincent LeClair, my boss.

Why does everything he does look so... 

perfect? Even the way he sips his coffee feels like an expensive commercial.

"Miss Rose à Montasia."

I jolted at the sound of my name rolling off his lips.

"Y-yes!" I squeaked, stiff as a statue.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging into a faint smile.

"What's the matter? Daydreaming?"

His voice was so calm too calm for my panic.

"I—I was just... wondering about you."

Wait. Did I just say that out loud?!

His eyes softened, lingering on me with an unreadable expression.

"You know, Miss Montasia... this industry isn't your everyday world. 

Getting to where I am wasn't luck it was a lot of hard work."

He leaned back, his tone dropping lower.

"Only a few survive here. People in this company? They're like wolves. 

Watching. Waiting for the slightest chance to strike."

Then his gaze sharpened, pinning me in place.

"And I don't want to hear about anyone trying to take advantage of you. Is that clear?"

My brain short circuited.

Since when did he care? Isn't he the one taking advantage of me every chance he gets?!

I nodded dumbly.

He chuckled lowly, reached over, and ruffled my hair like I was his pet puppy.

"Good girl."

Before I could process the heat flooding my cheeks.

Then a barista walked up to our table.

"Hi sir, is that your new p—"

Vincent cut him off, sharp and final.

"Yes. She's my new intern. Rose à Montasia. She works under me."

The barista gulped and scurried away.

What is this company? A fancy office or a mafia in disguise?!

Vincent pushed aside our empty cups and stood, adjusting his watch.

"Today, you'll learn how we operate in the B1 room. Get your notebook and pen ready. 

And keep up with me."

And just like that, I had no choice but to follow the wolf king himself.

B1 — The Fabric Floor

Fine fabrics lined the room, right to left. 

The gentle snap of scissors, the hum of machines, the warm smell of new cloth and fresh thread wrapped around me like a blanket. There I was standing still, completely stunned.

I admired how safe this room felt. The people too.

Everyone who passed by greeted my boss, like it was a reflex.

Is he really that nice? Does everyone want to talk to him that badly?

I hurried to follow behind him, step for step, as he pointed at each station, explaining its purpose.

Then he stopped so abruptly I almost crashed into him.

His right foot hadn't even touched the ground yet when he looked down and bent over.

A small pin on the floor.

He picked it up, holding it between his fingers. 

His voice sliced through the quiet hum of the room.

"Whose pin is this?"

I squinted a tiny green paint mark at the tip.

"Let me ask again. Who's working at the green station?"

Everyone froze.

Then, slowly, a girl stood up.

Orange, messy hair that looked like it hadn't seen a brush in ages.

"I-It's me, boss..."

She bowed so low.

"I'm sorry! I overlooked it — I didn't mean —"

"That's enough."

His tone was cold steel.

"Do you know how dangerous this is? You could send someone straight to the hospital with this carelessness."

The poor girl nearly melted into the floor.

"I don't want to see this mistake ever again. Understood?"

"Yes, boss..."

He turned, pin still in hand, and gestured at me.

"Listen up, everyone. This is Rose à Montasia. She's my intern. 

I expect each of you to help guide her whenever she needs it. Today she will observe your work. So do it perfectly."

Then he clapped once, sharp and final.

"Dismissed."

Oh. My. God.

Look at him. How can a man look that hot even when scolding someone?!

Is this how bosses are supposed to be?

After Hours

After a long day of me being a supervisor okay, okay, 

more like an awkward observer it was just Vincent and me, sitting at a tiny table on B1.

One by one, the designers had packed up and gone home.

He leaned back, watching me with those eyes that could see through me.

"So, what did you learn today?"

My mind blanked completely.

"I... I learned... uh..."

Aaghh! Words, come back to me!

He leaned in closer.

"What's in your notebook?"

Oh no. Not that!

Truth be told, I hadn't written a single useful thing.

Just doodles. Of his face. Over and over.

Don't ask me why! I don't know either!

I hugged my notebook to my chest like a life raft.

He gave me that look the one that says Really?

"Hmmm... So, what's in there?" 

My face just turned into a plum.

"Fine! Keep your secrets"

He smirked, and I felt my face catch fire.

He pointed his pen at a bolt of fabric across the room.

"See that blue fabric over there?"

"Oh, that one?" I pointed at the deep royal blue roll.

"Yes. Starting now recreate the dress you designed."

WHAT?! A second chance at that dress?!

I jumped up so fast my chair nearly fell.

"Yes! I'll make it perfect this time!"

I scrambled to gather everything. scissors, needles, measuring tape.

And there he was my boss, lounging back, drinking what must have been his fifth coffee, watching my every move.

Of course he'd call for more coffee like it was air.

Who wouldn't want to be him? Heck, I wanted to be him.

Finally, my masterpiece was done.

I turned to him, beaming.

"Did I do a good job?"

He didn't look impressed. If anything... 

he looked tired.

"Do you even know what time it is?"

I checked my watch.

10 PM?!

We started at six where did the time go?!

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Looks like I have to send you home now. Come on."

My heart somersaulted.

I get to ride in his car?! Eeeek!

"Yes, sir!" I chirped.

He gave me a look that basically screamed. Behave yourself.

In His Car

I grabbed my bag, trying to look graceful, and followed him out like an obedient puppy.

When we reached his car, he opened the passenger door and tilted his head at me.

"Sit in the front. I'm not your driver."

Eh?! First class seat?!

I climbed in, instantly turning to stone, clutching my bag like a shield.

A Storm at the Gate

As the car slowed in front of my house, my stomach dropped.

Lucas. Pacing back and forth by my gate.

"Oh no no no... Vincent. Please keep moving."

Yup. I called him Vincent out of sheer desperation.

My hands scrambled for his arm.

"Don't stop. Please. Keep moving."

He glanced past me, then smiled slowly.

"He's coming this way."

"Then MOVE!" I begged.

He was so calm.

"Too late now." He leaned in.

His hand slid to my neck, brushing my cheek. 

He pulled me closer and kissed me.

"Eh!" What!!!