Misunderstanding

"What are you doing here?" were the first words that sprang from Qiao Zeyan's mouth when the doors closed shut behind him. He had now regained his composure, resuming a look of plain boredom and disregard.

Internationally successful professional singer Han Qian of Liuxian Entertainment tilted the corner of her mouth into a cautious smile, twirling the glass of wine in her hand. "The secretary allowed me inside," she answered, making her way toward him. He still looked unconvinced. "Don't worry," she carried on, "I didn't bribe her with an autograph."

"You know you shouldn't be here at all." There was undoubtedly disapproval in Qiao Zeyan's voice. "People will misunderstand."

"No one recognized me, Zeyan, don't worry. And plus, what could there possibly be to misunderstand?" she reasoned, though her reassurance did nothing for him.

He veered to the side and toward his desk where a large white bag sat, the name of a famous bakery downtown printed on the front in cursive letters. He lifted it from the tabletop, the scent of sweet tarts and desserts wafting out from the bag. Han Qian tipped her chin at it, setting her wine glass down.

"I bought it before I came here so its fresh. You should eat it while its still hot," she instructed, moving over to join him.

After all the years they'd known each other she still didn't know he hated sweet things.

"Thank you," he replied nonetheless, pushing the bag aside as he sank down into his chair. "I appreciate that you have the heart to buy me these things, but I won't be needing them in the future."

He raised his head to watch Han Qian, but the singer only faced him, leaning onto his desk on her elbows. He tilted away slightly, trying to keep his ditance. He didn't want to be so close to her. But anyone walking into his office right now would think otherwise of him, especially when she moved herself closer.

"You still haven't answered my question," he reminded her, eyes flickering to his laptop screen, which was filled with recent files he still hadn't had time to check.

She rested her head in a hand, the other reaching over to flick through some of the papers stacked in a corner of the table. "I have a performance tomorrow night in Beijing, so I'll be leaving in a while. I've already booked a flight for you for tonight so you can come. You don't have anything on your schedule for tomorrow, do you?" A strand of her curled black hair slipped from behind a ear.

Qiao Zeyan looked up from his work, his fingers freezing on the keypad.

"Tomorrow night?" he repeated, running a hand through his hair.

"Yes, tomorrow night. Since you are my fiance, I've reserved a VIP ticket for you to the concert."

The whole building seemed to go silent all of a sudden.

"Me being your fiance shouldn't mean I immediately get VIP treatment."

He could see that Han Qian was trying not to frown. "Of course it does. We've been engaged for nearly a year now."

Qiao Zeyan sighed. "I can't go, anyway. I'm sorry."

"You've never been to any of my concerts before, and its always because of work. When are you ever free?"

"I really can't go tomorrow night," Qiao Zeyan tried his best to sound apologetic.

The truth was, he had been hoping Han Qian was free tomorrow night.

"I have a dinner party to go to tomorrow as my presence is required by the Board leaders. If all goes smoothly tomorrow, ACE may greatly benefit from it," he explained, returning his attention to the computer screen.

"Is it really that important?" she questioned, folding her arms.

He only nodded.

Han Qian flipped her hair over her shoulder, retrieving her phone from a handbag that matched her extravagant outfit. "Send me the location of your dinner party tomorrow. I'll come and find you when my concert is over."

"There's no need," Qiao Zeyan said solemnly. "It's better if you go straight home after your flight to get as much rest as possible."

His fiance clearly didn't look pleased. "Then remember not to drink too much. I won't be there to remind you," she demanded a moment later, dropping her phone back into her luxurious handbag. "I have a flight to catch now; I'll see you soon."

Like she always did before, Han Qian came up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder before letting her lips press against his cheek.

And at that split second, a knock came from his office doors. He straightened in his seat, Han Qian drawing away with a smile on her face as she took a pair of Chopard sunglasses from inside her bag, swiftly placing them on her face.

"Come in," she called out for him, turning on her heel to the door. It opened hesitantly, regret and confusion plastered on a familiar face through the small gap.

Han Qian winked at Qiao Zeyan, grasped the door handle before swinging it wide open as she sashayed past Fang Lingyi, who was clutching a folder against her chest. Her inferiority compared to Han Qian made something in Qiao Zeyan's chest heat up. He ignored it when Lingyi entered the room.

Though on the outside she seemed much plainer than Han Qian, Fang Lingyi shone a thousand times brighter in his dull office, giving off a glow only he could see.

Her eyes were instantly drawn to his face - and something on it.

Qiao Zeyan wiped at the red lipstick stain on his cheek before clearing his throat, gesturing at the folder she carried.

"Is that the report?" He forced himself to sound bored.

"Yes," she answered, the fiery and defiant attitude diminishing.

He took it from her outstretched hands, their skin brushing before she quickly backed away, pressing her lips together. He set it down on his desk, right next to the bag of desserts Fang Lingyi seemed to suddenly notice as well.

"I hope I wasn't disrupting anything, President Qiao," she said, avoiding eye contact with him. He inwardly groaned.

"Not at all," he told her, trying to understand the expression on her face.

It took her a minute to respond. "Since I've already delivered my report, I should probably leave you to it."

"Wait," he surprised himself by saying. She paused, looking at him expectantly. "Do you have any plans tomorrow?"

That caught her off guard.

"Why?"

"Just answer my question, Lingyi."

"No," she said simply.

"Good. You can accompany to a dinner party tomorrow night," he told her, twisting in his seat to face her directly. "All the Board leaders will be there."

She didn't seem frightened at all by that piece of information, her shirt crinkling when she tucked her arms over one another, eyes narrowed in deep thought. "And you can't ask anyone else to go with you?" He knew she referred to Han Qian, though she didn't know who exactly she was.

"If I did have anyone else to ask, would we be here having this conversation?"

She checked her watch while asking, "What time does it start?"

"I'll come and get you when it's time. All you need to worry about is finishing the rest of your work before tomorrow night." A small smirk made its way onto his lips.

That exasperated look he loved was back in place on her face.

"You can leave now," he commanded, "I'll message you the details later."

Fang Lingyi sneered. "Fine."

"Oh, before you go, take this with you," he stopped her, handing her the bag of food Han Qian had bought for him. "I know you like sweet food, so you should probably have it." He deliberately left Han Qian out of this.

Fang Lingyi looked uncertain. "You do know it isn't appropriate to give your employees gifts, right?"

"Take it," he insisted.

Still looking unconvinced, she murmured a "thank you" before taking it from him. She peered inside, the look on her face shifting from unsure to impressed.

"Where did you get all these?"

"Some bakery down the street," he said, amusement coating his features.

That gleam of excitement in her eyes only made his smile grow.

Spotting his amusement, Lingyi squared her shoulders. "Thank you again, President Qiao. I'll be sure to complete all my tasks before the deadline."

"Then I'll see you tomorrow," he grinned, watching as she hurried out the door, her smile ten times wider than his.