CHAPTER TWENTY | I want it I got it, I want it |KIM NAMJOON

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The girl clad in a tight-fitting mauve color suit, tapped on her watch lightly and carefully treaded with her words, "Sir, there are still people in the boardroom meeting. We can start with it all over again unless you don't have . . . anything else to do."

My mind was boggled at the last cryptic line as I squeezed my eyes into golf-sized balls. And I realized it late when Nam Joon's handheld me by my waist and rather used it as a support to stand. We were clumsy. Our clothes rustled against each other, my hand still very much collaring him.

A glowing ember leaped from his half irises as his fingers threaded on my wrists. And I closed my eyes for a moment but just as I opened them I found him padding out of the room.

Suddenly my visit seemed goalless. I couldn't let myself go like that. I raised a hand at the fleeting figure, mentally getting on my knees and rubbing off my nose on the ground. Please! Don't go! A broken sister is begging you!

Before he could pull the door to exit, he looked at me and chirped, "Coming back at you after a short while. Choi Hanuel, is it?"

What? I jumped up at the little white hope that he not only had understood I was a different person but was ready to hear my piece. In hindsight, I shouldn't forget that my mission to give Somi a doting father and discuss my love life with Uncle Mojo came with a time bomb alert warning. So, I had equipped myself with the knowledge that if I happened to be inept in this, it could cost me a lot.

In a few minutes, Uncle Mojo's tensed voice exploded into the thick air as he entered inside. "Hello? Is Mr. Kim in here? Hanuel . . . where is she?"

I smiled cockily and swiveled on the executives' chair and placed my legs on his table in a bossy attitude. "I'm here, Uncle Mojo! Tada!"

His eyes grew abnormally large as he darted toward me at a slow-motion speed. "Hanuel . . . why are sitting there? Do you not have a little sense of how much affront I'll have to go through, at this old age, if anyone sees you entering someone's private space? And he's the vice president of the company, for God's sake!"

"C'mon, Uncle Mojo. Whether he is the VP or a VVIP, that Kim Namjoon had committed the biggest error of mistaking me as his personal secretary, ha." I pointed at myself with ease of pride. "I'm only having my time. Want to see how beautiful the sunrise looks from the 15th floor? Let's see." I toddled on that chair and pulled the strings of the window.

As Uncle Mojo cooled down, he grinned while placing his hands on the headrest of my chair. "Looks like you already like your brother-in-law?"

"Does that matter?" I said sourly, and a glowing picture of Taehyung walking beside me and gaping at the beautiful scene distracted my attention. In which he had sported a CEO's aura, with his attire reeking of wealth. He winked at me and waved a hand before morphing in the space.

Uncle Mojo pushed the chair a little and then I woke from my thoughts.
"No doubt about Namjoon's killer looks. But I think his memory is not sharp and strong. I mean why would he ever forget the face of the person who is staying at his close quarters?"

He smacked my head savagely. "Idiot, big people don't remember normal faces. Once he devotes some time from his busy schedule looking at Molan's pictures, he will never forget her angelic face. And will ask her hand for marriage quickly."

My frame absorbed into the chair, despondency palpable on my face. "Not really, I think her pictures didn't charm him enough as he flipped the file on the table with disinterest."

"What? Did you show it to him?" At this point, his knees shivered despite the AC operating at a moderate setting.

"He snatched it from my hands thinking it was some business file──" I choked on my saliva as the door slung open and a hot-headed Namjoon with his secretary hot on her heels made us jump out of our calm talk zone.

Uncle Mojo and I sprung up to meet with him who pounded a fist at his forehead twice and loosened his tie before laying straight on the couch. "I'm going to get them all beheaded! I'm going to── argh," he rousted. "How can they fucking reject my designs?!"

Uncle Mojo didn't move from his place. I licked my lips and tiptoed to whisper in his ear, "He looks in a very bad mood. I wonder who is going to start a conversation with a cut snake?" He shot at me and adamantly witnessed the scene. I puffed out air through my lips as I knew the elder was scared to even take a breath. As if taking a breath in front of Namjoon was like siphoning his portion of air.

The girl began to fan him with one hand briskly, as the other hand yanked a phone against her ear. "Sir── sir, Mr. Wuang Zi is asking about your final decision about issuing circulars to Indonesia's branch. What should I answer him?"

Namjoon heaved for more air as his chest rose above the couch like the first drop of rain.

"Water! Wa-te-rr! He needs water!" Uncle Mojo yelled and the girl haphazardly picked up a glass and water jug from the table. Even, I emboldened her to save the man from behind.

She crouched down and made him drink it. His eyeballs completely hiked upward. And I feared he might pass out in here. But soon, he gained consciousness as he analyzed our faces, but couldn't say a single word. My mind ordered me to unbutton his shirt and the girl helped a little by telling, "Ma'am, he functions like that. Don't worry about it."

"Look he needs more water!" Uncle Mojo cut off the girl.

I saw Namjoon trying to fall back into normal condition. After all, he was a young and healthy man, capable to fight back nausea. But these two people were creating a panic out of a considerably light situation.

"Stop babying him and back away you people!" They were appalled and instantly cleared away as I closed the distance between us, I dropped to my knees. "Listen, man, you don't need this water." I took it from his hands and gave it to the girl swiftly. "I've some other reliable solution which would stick with you till your last breath. And will keep all your tensions at bay. I promise."

"W-hat is that?" he said, a bit eagerly as he lent me his precious time.

I pursed my lips and nodded passively. "Don't you think you should shift your focus from work, a little, toward nourishing a mini version of you, who would one day take hold of this business empire? And will never let his Dad oops . . ."

"A child," he proposed, a distressed blush highlighted his cheeks. "But where would I get it from?" He searched my eyes.

I gawked at him and whipped my head at Uncle Mojo who was towering over me. He smiled at me and said, "She will explain everything."

"Like-- like everything?" I asked doubtfully and he only smiled. "Fine. Can I sit next to you? I believe in short order but──" I looked at Uncle Mojo again.

He insisted, "Don't miss on the details Haneul, tell him everything."

Namjoon joined his sprawled legs together. "Yes, please."

I closed my eyes and gracefully perched at the edge of the sofa; at a safe distance from him. "See, this whole process is just as emotional as biological it is in nature. When two bodies of different sex are hit close to the bone, a spark erupts, and then both the humans' lose control and enjoy the exotic journe─"

Uncle Mojo shoved his fist into my mouth and washed the sensational item from the surface sweetly, "Son, for that you need a girl from a rich family. And we are here to give you one."

I rolled my eyes at the rich word and as I ripped his hand off, Namjoon asked coyly a few moments later, "You were talking about the technoetic journey─"

My face broke into laughter. "No, it's not the technoetic but exotic journey. First off, you have got to remove the chips of technology, assignments, emails, etc from your head to survive in this world." I brushed off my hands and rose. "Ha, And trust me, it's an exciting journey. Will crash you wildly from your fifteenth floor to a down-to-earth person every single night." I winked and saw the girl snickering, trying her best not to get noticed.

Namjoon was flustered. "Down to earth person every night . . . then what about mornings?"

"Look, your secretary has understood it." I tossed a glance at her and walked out with an embarrassed Uncle Mojo. "Boys, are just so dumb at times . . ."

***

I grabbed Eric by his hair roots and shook him like a mixer jar. "You are neither good in destroying things nor in fixing them! State me the reason why didn't you kill yourself the day you were born?"

"My hands were too short to reach my neck. Oh, please, it hurts," he yelled and slouch-tilted like a palm tree.

"Hanuel, that's enough," Uncle Mojo said, flagging a hand.

"No, I won't. You were supposed to swap the red and black wires of the TV, then why you touched the yellow one." I tugged him and dragged him to the conked-out TV. "Look, you have messed everything up. Now, who is going to fix this?!"

"Kim Taehyung!"

My throat dried and Uncle Mojo listened attentively. Mine gripped slackened on his hair and he threw his shoulder backward, looking tired as Uncle Mojo neared him. "Kim Taehyung, Molan's chauffeur right?"

"Yeah . . ."

My unusual body movements tried to eliminate his involvement in this. "Unc--let's--umm--let's--umm."

Eric continued reasonably, "I think he should have a little knowledge about this since he is a loner in the city and does everything on his own."

Realization inflicted upon Uncle Mojo as he squeezed his shoulders. "Call him. Call him now!"

I interrupted, facing both of them, "You think he will come here from her office just to do a mere one minute work. How ridiculous is that."

"Why not? We pay him and we have a legal right to ask him to do what we want." Uncle Mojo was not ready to listen to me, and I was partly happy that I would see my boyfriend face to face. Fine. I'm ready.

"I'll video call Namjoon to ware him of the plan once again." I clipped my leg under my hips on the modern pistachio-colored armchair and waited until the call got connected.

After an hour, I was greeted by Taehyung formally, just because we were in front of Uncle Mojo, the tyrant. Eric told him about the situation and Taehyung only nodded with a downward gaze. I waited until Uncle Mojo left from there to smoke.

Taehyung bent and held a wrench in his hand. Stung by excitement, I lifted from the chair and threw the cushion across the carpet. I intended to run my hand on his curved spine slowly. He immediately stood erect, and mumbled in a gruntle tone, "Your Uncle will watch us."

I closed my mouth in disdain. "I don't think the number of times I've taken his name I've would have taken even yours. So, please we will not talk about him."

His long fingers danced with the wires and I hated the fact that my presence didn't affect him much as his concentration froze in the task at his hand.

"Taehyung it's been three minutes and you didn't even look at me," I complained. Then I planted my hands on his face and drew his face closer until our lips met. He pushed me off abruptly and I saw giddy Eric leaned against the wall, face-palming in the air as he reenacted our brief kiss.

The lean guy pivoted on and slapped Taehyung's back forcibly. Wow. I never thought he would be this strong. Taehyung awkwardly smiled at Eric and asked me softly, "What went wrong with this TV?"

"Well, it's a part of our plan that went wrong because of this loser namely Eric Nam. Today, we have someone coming to fix this, you know that for Molan thing."

"Aah, Hanuel you are probably amongst the biggest losers. This taxi driver has asked a random question to unravel your babbling as he lingers on in the aftermath of that kiss." He hissed and hit Taehyung once again. "I speak from experience."

I pointed an accusation finger at him. "Keep your experience in your pocket, Mr. Know-it-all. Your carelessness has caused enough stress for poor Tae to be here and back three times today."

Taehyung pacified the matter with his voice glazed with honey, "Madame has told me not to come back as she will take a lift from her friend. Besides, God has sent us to extend a hand forward and help everyone."

Taehyung was such a people-pleaser that I was afraid of others taking advantage of his naiveté. And that is why I was restless to tie a knot with him, so that, in my lifelong company he would take lessons from me and give cold shoulder to useless people.

Suddenly, Uncle Mojo appeared and peeped over the TV. "Is it done?"

Taehyung murmured, "Yes, sir."

"Explain Hanuel everything." He whirled on his heels and halted for a second. "I mean about the TV. Only appropriate content as my ears works really well."

I sighed as I was teleported to Kim Namjoon's cabin by Uncle Mojo's tight words. "Hmm, so what do I have to do?"

"These wires tips are touching lightly the main joint, just tell him to use wreck pliers to tighten them up and it will be good to go."

He smiled.

And I smiled back. "By the way, what were you just saying right now?"

Taehyung's eyebrow touched his hairline and his jaw dropped. And in that juncture of incredulity, Uncle Mojo began to push him toward the door. "Thanks for your help. She will do as you said. Just be punctual for tomorrow."

The clock made a circle and struck at eight pm. Uncle Mojo and I were in the living room. Namjoon had already arrived and ambushed himself in the dark corner outside our mansion. Eric had locked himself up with Somi in her room. So we killed time until Molan showed up.

We quickly made ourselves busy with the things situated near us.

"Hey, how is everyone?"

Her alluring presence would knock his senses off. I ran to her and squeezed her in a hug. When normal people should be smelling of bad odor, Molan was surrounded by an air of jasmines.

Uncle Mojo started, "Go, wash yourself up. We will watch some TV and then have our dinner."

"Yes, but let me first check my dear Somi──"

"Somi, Somi is sleeping in her room. I helped her with her art homework and tucked her to bed," I lied proficiently.

She then resumed her course and my ears followed her to the room. Uncle Mojo coughed and showed me thumps up.

Twenty minutes later, Molan joined us and I couldn't take my eyes off her pretty face. Her long black hair was spread against her back, and she wore a pink satin night suit. I cheered and tapped a spot next to mine for her to accommodate. "C'mon we will watch your favorite cooking show. See, I got myself a diary and a pen to note down the recipe."

Molan mouthed that's great.

Uncle Mojo took his seat next to me and elbowed me. As I stood up I pulled my shirt down and tripped over the uneven edge of the fur carpet en route to switching on the TV.

Suddenly the screen turned whitish and grainy. A sound like the heavy pattering of rain dampened our enthusiastic spirit. Not ours, but hers.

"Why aren't the channels coming?" Molan questioned, tilting her head sideways.

"Ah, we have to call a repair person to fix this problem. Uncle Mojo, do you know anyone who can do this stuff?"

"Yes. I know one extremely humble boy who would fix this in minutes. Let me search his number . . . ah, yes, Kim Namjoon."

"But, it's too late. I think you should call him tomorrow morning," she said in her unique melody in the hollow air.

"No! I've to watch the episode right now or else what would I imagine in my dreams." I paced out in the room and noted the way she had been pressing her knuckles in pleasure.

"Ah, trust me. I'll have him at my beck and call."

Several minutes later we heard a muffled screeching sound of the metal panels and an obscure figure coming onward with a toolbox. "I'll get him." I took measured steps with him and once I stepped into the patio, I filled his ear, "Listen, do as per our plan. Take time in pretending to work, and then please her with some flattery."

"Okay. Okay."

When I was caught back judging his appearance, I was too sure that his too clean and ironed outfit wasn't mirroring a repair boy's look from any angle. "Nam Joon, there is only one thing missing from your outlook. A tie," I said with sarcasm. "What the hell is this? You are looking a job aspirant more, and a repair boy less."

"What can I do? Shall I return and come back tomorrow?"

"Oh, what an idea, sir! You have become my role model. Feel free to come here anytime. Consider this as a grand film's set and do as many takes as you wish."

"Fine. I'll come back tomorrow." He nodded with sincerity and glanced at his way back.

"My ass." I grabbed his hand. "They have seen someone coming in. Now there is no option but to face them. Let's go."

Namjoon traveled up to the TV and asked normally, "Is it a cable problem, or some internal problem?" Once he saw Molan in person, he blushed and looked elsewhere.

"That you have to check," Molan answered. He crouched on the floor uncomfortably and opened his toolbox. "He looks perplexed himself," she said lowly under her breath.

I gulped hardly.

He finally showed some improvement by inserting a plier behind the wide TV screen. The buzzing sound from it stopped for a second as a picture of a pint-headed chef preparing a lychee popsicle struck on the screen. I clapped, and his exquisite dimples pleased our eyes. I caught Molan staring at him, too.

"When making this icy sweet treat, the first step is to clean the bottom . . ."

The cookery channel suddenly switched to physical fitness channel. ". . . place the bottom on a clean mat. Next step is to raise both your legs and spread them wide slowly . . ."

He did something at the back again. It came back to the unfinished ice cream recipe. " . . . then take a long stick and push it inside deeply until you don't feel like to pull out . . ."

Namjoon probably was cursing as it switched to the " . . . stay in this position for five minutes or more depending on your strength . . ."

" . . . enjoy it with your partner. And don't just stop at one serving, go on with many more!"

"No! I can't do this! Please spare me!" Namjoon grasped his skull and jumped on his feet like a baby dragonfly trying to take its first flight. He floated in the other direction and left the iron items on the floor.

"So, anyone up for dinner?"

Uncle Mojo and I replied in unison, "No."

A/n

My mama is using the phrase "down to earth" quite often so I just went with a euphemism for *ahem* if you understood it. *winks*

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