A/N:  Rated Mature: possible triggers: forced kissing and holding/trapping and unwanted advances. The character called Tae in this story is not and does not portray the actions of the real-life person of Kim Taehyung from BTS.

With all the contractors showing up at the same time, what should have taken less time became an hours-long ordeal.  

Today was when you were making the final selection of who would be hired for the renovation. Each contractor, builder, and craftsman voiced their ideas for another's plans, and mild disagreements ensued. It seemed everyone had an opinion of what would work or look best, hoping they would win the contract for renovation. It was very fatiguing, keeping them on track with their own jobs. 

From an initial meeting with the contractors and builders, you found you liked Mr. Cuthbert the best for helping you renovate. He was stubborn, not giving in to others 'better' ideas. He stood firm that he wouldn't compromise on the work or take shortcuts as some of the others suggested you do.

 One, condescendingly, went so far as to explain that, as a man, he knew what would be best for you. That bidding contractor you dropped and replaced him with a highly recommended female contractor, much to the man's chagrin.  You were hoping the final meeting would go better, so much for hope.

 After they left today, you realized you had missed lunch when you heard a loud growl from Jimin's stomach. Laughing, you talk with him about what to have for dinner, and once you agree on what you want to eat, Jimin orders for you both. You sat and ate at the bar, reviewing the plans, diagrams, and estimate sheets together.

Jimin yawns for the fifth time, and you smile at him, sympathizing with his need for sleep.

"Go home, Jimin, and get to bed." You pat his arm, gaining his attention before he nodded off.

He yawns again and doesn't argue but cheekily says, "Yes, Mom."

You laugh as he gathers his things to leave. "Are you heading home now, too?" he asks.

"Not yet. I have a couple of things I want to do before I go."

Jimin doesn't like the idea of you being alone, so he sits back at the bar. "I will go when you go." He tries to hide another yawn, but you notice anyway.

"I'll be fine, Jimin. Please go home before you're too tired to drive. Don't forget you must go to the permit office in the morning."

He kisses you on the cheek and hugs you before wiping a smudge of dirt from your chin. "Goodnight, Novi. Do you want me to take the whiskey with me?" He sheepishly grins with hope.

The builder, Mr. Cuthbert, brought a bottle of Ardbeg Whiskey from the Isle of Islay, Scotland, as a gift. He wasn't aware you had already decided on him as the winning builder tonight. You won't think of the 'gift' as a bribe.

Laughing, you place your hands on the gift bag the bottle is in. "Oh no, you don't, little brother. I will be taking this with me and keeping it till opening night."

He tries one of his cute pouts on you, but it doesn't work. Finally, he relents. "Okay, okay, but call me when you get home."

You laugh, saying, "You will be sound asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow."

He firmly takes your hand and sternly tells you, "Call me when you get home, Novi."

You sigh. Sometimes, your little brother can act like a bothersome, bossy big brother.

"Yes, I will." You kiss him goodnight on the forehead like you used to do when he was little—reminding him of the sibling hierarchy.

He laughs and heads home.

About half an hour later, as you put all the papers in a folder, you think about what happened earlier in the private dressing room. You leave the folder on the bar and return to the small room. 

When you walk in, you stop, close your eyes, and inhale the faint hint of cigar smoke and whiskey. You open your eyes and approach the board. You just had to see him before you left.

Your hand goes to the picture of him sitting at a table with a microphone. Reaching out to lightly touch the edges, you are hit with a memory, but how can it be a memory? You have never met him. Yet you are standing beside the photographer as he takes a picture of Suga, and he is looking at you as the camera's bulb flashes.

You hear him say your name and then hear it called again, like from a distance. You turn as you hear, "Beautiful, are you still here?"

You look back at the picture of Suga and swiftly leave the room, returning to the bar.

"Tae, what are you doing here?" You're tired and would rather be heading home not visiting with Tae.

He grins as he approaches you, holding out his hands to take yours. "I was driving by and saw a light still on. I thought maybe you and Jimin were still cleaning. I thought most of the dust must be gone by now, and I could help in some way." He takes your hands in his.

You pull your hands away and step behind the bar, putting the folders in your brief bag. "We were able to clear up the bar area before the contractors started showing up."

Tae is looking around as he steps closer to the bar. "Where's Jimin?"

You laugh. "He was falling asleep at the bar. I sent him home. He worked hard today and has to get up early tomorrow to go to the Building Permits Office for one of our contractors before work can begin."

Still checking the place out, he steps behind the bar and close to you. "He left you here alone. That's not like Jimin to be so careless."

You step away, putting on your coat and hat, then pick up the gift bag and carry it in one arm. "Oh, stop. You know Jimin is not careless, a little overprotective, yes, but never careless."

Tae mumbles under his breath. "Yeah, overprotective to the point of annoyance." But you don't hear him.

"What was that?"

"Oh, I was just saying I think it's great that he's overprotective, especially if it's of you, Beautiful."

Most girl's knees would melt at the sight of his boxy smile, but not you. There is another whose smile touches your heart. You glance at the 'Private' door and then at Tae.

"Tae, I have asked you to stop calling me that. It's too close to a term of endearment, and we are only friends because of your association with my brother."

In a deep and sultry voice, he says, "You are a beautiful princess with hair like spun gold." He steps close, blocking you behind the bar. He caresses your cheek and tucks strands of golden blond hair behind your ear. He leans close, lust filling his eyes. He finally has you, and he leans closer, about to kiss you.

Oh, what the . . .no!