Chapter 6
1119 Words
Wilona sighed as she surveyed the neatly packed boxes scattered around her new apartment.
It had been two exhausting days of searching, but she had finally found a place that suited her needs—modern, comfortable, and close to the office. Now, all that was left was moving in and making it feel like home.
Melly has a villa in the suburbs and she asked Wilona to live there. But for Wilona it was impractical because she knew the city streets very well every day, from her experience six years ago.
She would be exhausted before starting work and when she got home, if she accepted Melly's offer to live in her villa, because it was quite far from the city center where her office was located.
This apartment was recommended by one of the staff and after looking at two other apartments, he finally decided to take one of the two-bedroom units in this apartment.
With a determined breath, Wilona grabbed the edges of a large cardboard box filled with clothes and heaved it toward the bedroom. Just as she reached the doorway, a deep voice startled her.
"Need a hand?"
Nina nearly dropped the box. She turned, her breath hitching as she took in the man standing at her door.
It was him.
The same man she met on her first day at the head office. They bumped into each other in front of the coffee counter and Wilona's coffee spilled on his expensive shirt.
A man with deep dark turquoise eyes and a beautiful jawline like a model from a men's magazine
"You?" Wilona blurted out, eyes widening in surprise.
A slow, knowing smirk tugged at his lips. "You remember me. That’s good."
Wilona's eyebrows raised in an annoyed manner. "Of course. There's no way to forget someone who made me miss out on a good cup of coffee after a tiring meeting and instead made me a criminal because my coffee spilled on your shirt."
The man laughed and rubbed his eyebrows casually. "Not a pleasant memory, really, right? But, well, never mind, it was funny anyway."
Wilona eyed the man warily. "Err... What are you doing here? I mean, why are you here?"
The man casually leaned against the doorframe. "Moving in," he said, tilting his head toward the penthouse elevator. "Looks like we're neighbors."
Wilona felt her stomach churn. Is it a coincidence or what, but why in this very big city, in three days they have to keep meeting and even, will become neighbors?
"So, do you need my help or not?" the man asked again.
Wilona hesitated for a moment, but when she saw a large box with the word 'books' written on it, she subconsciously stepped back and pointed at the box.
"Okay. Please carry the box and please, be careful."
He chuckled, easily lifting the box as if it weighed nothing. "I'll try."
Wilona watched the man lift the box easily, as if it were just an empty box. From behind, she could see the hard muscles moving as the man lifted and put down the box and several other boxes.
"Is this all?" the man asked after all the boxes were carried. He looked at the boxes on the floor. "You have very little stuff."
Wilona shrugged. "I'm a minimalist," she said nonchalantly. "Yes, this is all."
The man smiled. "Minimalism is good."
Wilona wiped her forehead and looked at him. "Thanks for the help. I--" She suddenly remembered the promise she had made to him. "Oh. Your shirt. I said I'd replace it."
That man glanced down at his crisp, black button-up. "Forget it. Instead, how about you be my guide?"
Wilona blinked. "What? A guide?"
"Yeah. I just moved here and don't know much about the situation here. I think I need some help to adapt. I have a lot of shirts like that, so how about I ask you to be my guide, in exchange for that shirt?"
The man said his sentence in his usual casual tone, but Wilona felt that there was something implied in his words.
Wilona looked at the man with a doubtful look. She remembered something.
"Ah. That day, why were you at the head office? My company?" Wilona asked suspiciously.
She couldn't possibly forget how neat the man looked at that time, and his style didn't look like a stranger at all. But, now he said that he was new to this city?
The man smiled. "Just business."
She frowned at his lack of explanation. "What kind of business?"
He simply smiled. "You'll find out soon enough. Besides, we're neighbors, so I guess we'll start seeing each other more often from now on."
A shiver ran down Wilona's spine at the cryptic response, but she ignored it. Instead, she sighed. "Fine. I'll be your guide. But..." She paused, suddenly realizing something important.
She didn't even know his name.
"And what should I call you?" Wilona asked, raising an eyebrow.
The man smirked. "We've exchanged phone numbers, but we don't even know each other's names." He held out his hand. "Josh."
Wilona stared at his hand for a beat before shaking it. "Wilona."
"I know," he said smoothly.
Wilona didn't hear his words too clearly. She raised an eyebrow. "What did you say?"
His smile was almost teasing. "Nothing, just felt that your name is nice and unique."
Wilona felt her cheeks warm. "Alright, Josh," she said with a small sigh. "Like I said, I'll be your guide, but don't expect me to be your guide forever. It's just because I promised to replace your expensive shirt, but I haven't had time to go to the mall."
Josh chuckled. "We'll see about that. And, actually, you won't get that shirt in any mall, because I didn't buy it here and it's custom made, limited edition."
Wilona pursed her lips in annoyance. Josh was playing with her. She would soon find time to get the shirt and give it to Josh so she wouldn't have to be his guide anymore.
Josh moved his eyebrows playfully, seeing Wilona's attitude that showed her annoyance.
He stepped out of Wilona's apartment and stopped in the doorway, turning to look at Wilona who was standing behind him.
"Unit two," he said.
"Huh?" Wilona asked confused.
"My place. Unit two. You can call me if you need help," Josh said softly. "Or... When you just need a friend for dinner or looking for breakfast before going to work."
"Uh, y-yeah, thank you," Wilona replied nervously.
As he walked toward the penthouse elevator, Wilona couldn't shake the feeling that their paths crossing again was no coincidence.
And that thought unsettled her more than she'd like to admit.
- Writer
