The Japanese Businessman

"Wake up wake up" my alarm clock shouted at me. Ok atleast its like shouting when someone says you to wake up so early in the morning. I looked at the clock and to my realisation I was already late for my office. I woke up as soon as I can and rushed to freshen up. I rush out of my apartment just to realise it was the most annoying day i hate to live, the valentines day. I reached my office really late.

The elevator doors to the Mode offices opened. Besides the typical work frenzy, I walked into on a daily basis, the reception area and glass-walled bull pen where the cubicles were located. As i walked deeper i saw Love shaped balloons scattered all over the place. No surface of the most popular fashion magazine's office space was spared. Cupids shooting love arrows hung from the ceiling. Hearts clung to the walls. And red roses petals everywhere. Each employee table seemed to have a vase of roses. The urge to run in the opposite direction consumed me. I hated valentines day a lot whereas others seems to enjoy the day a lot. But in my defence i hated it a lot for the reason that i have very heartbreaking ncident which i seem to never get over with. But to miss work because of my personal issues was unforgivable. So, instead, I prayed. I prayed to pass the area unnoticed by anyone but to my annoyance i couldn't.

Unfortunately, like my every unanswered prayer, my prayer for a swift death was interrupted by a wave of confetti and the shouted words of "Happy Valentine's—"

The greeting cut off at about the same time when I was about to enter my cabin without being noticed.

"Where are you trying to escape without meeting us baby" kate giggled and asked me.

I gave her a vague expression.

"Who died?" kiara, the top-knotted, hipster-glasses-wearing receptionist asked, referring to my black on black waterfall cardigan and my denims.

"My soul. I was thinking of not getting noticed and here i am bathing eith confetti all over my body" I said, sliding my scowl toward kate and kiara. And glared at them for interrupting my sweet escape. Then suddenly someone threw confetti all over me again.I swear i was going to flip at that person but to my disappointment it was the person whom i could never get angry with, my life long best friend since childhoodand my crush for life Daniel Salvatore.

The confetti shower chilled me to the bone. I took a deep breath and enunciated each word I spoke. "Please Daniel not you too. You know i don't like it?" I narrowed my gaze at the naughty culprit who thought he was being cute.

Daniel shook his head so hard and winked at me saying "spare me my share of valentines day celebrations" He waved his hands for emphasis . . . or as a defensive maneuver against possible attacks from me, I didn't know.

I glared at him with questioning look asking him why? Because he knows very well that i hate valentines day.

Clasping his hands together, Daniel said, "why are you being gloomy. For god's sake its Valentine's Day and it should be a happy occasion."

A guilt took over me for glaring at him once the realization hit that my friends were just looking out for me. I willed the annoyance away as i ran my fingers through my thick chestnut waves tamed by product.

"Clean this up before Miss Pierce gets here." I pointed at the mess.

Kate gave me a evil grin as kiara and Daniel scampered away to i guess get brooms to clean up the mess.

"Don't tell me she is already here" my heart made a beeline for my throat while i checked my watch. "She doesn't usually get in at this hour."

"She's been here since an hour".

A different kind of annoyance ignited in my chest. I always got here before my boss. Always.

"Did she tell you why?" I asked her not bothering to mask the rising panic in my tone.

"She's been on a conference call all…"

The second the words conference and call were uttered, I didn't bother listening to the rest of Kate's sentence. I hurried to my desk located outside Miss Pierce's frosted glass office. The door was closed. The dark silhouette inside indicated her presence.

Dumping my bag on the floor, without bothering to take off my coat and scarf I bent over my computer and cued up today's schedule. I cursed under my breath and inhaled sharply, my lips disappearing into a tight line. At the top of the list was the conference call. I'd been so distracted this past week that i'd completely forgotten about the prep.

Milan Fashion Week in March was one of Mode's biggest events of the year. It took, at least, six months to plan and coordinate the trip. Logistics alone was a nightmare. Meetings, fashion shows, dinners with designers . . . the list of things to do went on and on. As her executive assistant,I held the sole responsibility of pulling everything off without so much as an unplanned hiccup.

I again went through the schedule and realized i was to recieve some japanese delegates and welcome them here but i guess i was already late as i could see them sitting in Miss. Pierce's office. I clicked print and straightened as the printer spat out the schedule. I pulled off my scarf and shrugged off my coat, composing myself to enter the lions den and thinking of the appropriate apology for being late. Much groveling may be involved. Maybe even some self-flagellation.

Not bothering with a deep breath, I knocked once and pushed in. The best editor-in-chief in the business stood behind her desk with arms crossed. She wore a sleek suit covered entirely in peacock feathers with exaggerated shoulders. One of the perks of her position was having all her clothes custom made by the best designers. It was almost like she was a goddess and the designers were supplicants giving her offerings so she showered them with her blessings. Making it into the pages of Mode meant making it in the fashion world. So, yeah, keeping Miss. Pierce happy was a full-time occupation for designers.

She spoke in rapid-fire Spanish just as i nudged the door closed. Someone at the other end replied via the phone's speaker and she shook her head. She spoke again and crooked a finger at me. The walls of my throat closed at the sharp look she gave me. She was a strikingly beautiful woman. If she didn't love the behind-the-scenes more she could have easily been a model like my mother.

Forcing my feet to move, i approached her desk cluttered with fashion magazines, newspapers, and sample swatches. While she continued to argue with whoever it was she was speaking to, i clipped her schedule on a board hanging on the wall then proceeded to tidy up.

Then I saw to the sidelines to see Yoshiyuki Hatori, an upcoming designer from japan who is the main designer for our March issue and Milan fashion week. I greeted him with a smile.

Then my eyes met the most dark and sexy blue pair of eyes i had ever seen in my life. He was the tall man in a gray three-piece Brioni suit i last saw in the spring collection catalog. That suit wouldn't be available in stores until next year. The fact that he wore it meant he had considerable pull and a lot of money. He stood beside Yoshi with the poise of someone who knew what wearing a good suit could do. He had his hands in his pockets, which emphasizes just how broad his shoulders were. A linebacker couldn't have done any better. I had worked with more than enough male models to know the way that perfectly-tailored suit sat contently on his body meant he sported some serious muscle underneat.

For some reason, I was unable to tear my gaze away from Yoshi's companion. His jet black hair was combed away from a face that boasted of high cheekbones and a clean-shaven, square jaw. It wasn't his stunning looks alone that drew the eyes to him. It was the air that surrounded him. He was a man who stood on solid ground and was comfortable in his own skin. Someone who didn't care what others thought. At least, that was my impression of him at first glance.

I stepped forward and dusted off my Japanese. He hoped to hell he wouldn't mess this up.

Yoshi noticed him first and eyed me then grinned as he whispered to his companion, "Otoko wa kawaiku mieru. Kare wa utsukushī. watashi wa kare o motsu koto ga dekiru koto o nozomu"(Trans: The girl looks cute. I could have her).

A sudden blush washed over my face. I'd just been called beautiful and cute by a designer with features so manly they rivaled those of the models in this shoot. I stood frozen, not because of the flirty compliment but the look that came from the man in the Brioni suit, but from staring into steel blue irises—eyes that seemed to undress me.

Being in the fashion industry seemed like the perfect fit for me from the get-go. An internship at eighteen propelled me to my esteemed position today. A million people would kill to be in my Prada loafers. It didn't matter that my boss also happened to be my mother's best friend and de facto godmother.

Then suddenly someone pulled me by my elbow and speak up " sorry gentlemen for the commotion but i want something to do with this fine men hear" Miss Pierce pulled me outside her cabin.

"Tell me why are you late" she asked.

"I am sorry GM. It won't happen again" i replied her pouting.

"Ok only this time. Now go entertain the gentlemen inside for sometime for me".

I went to them and greeted them with a smile.