Tiffany wasn’t that big on getting her nails done, in fact the handful of times she had gone to a nail salon she had been dragged there by Jessica or Elo. Still, the sight of the brightly lit, well maintained interior of the nail salon at Saks Fifth Luna, the space baby of Saks Fifth Avenue, brought a smile to her face.

“Don’t you just love walking in here?” Jessica gushed. “I can almost forget that you accepted a job from some literary mob boss whom you know nothing about.”

“Really, Jessica,” Tiffany sighed. “Tell me how you really feel.”

Jessica did not grace her with a reply, instead huffing discontentedly to herself and surging forward as they neared the receptionist desk.

“Jessica Jung and Tiffany Hwang. And I would like some mineral water.” The receptionist had barely enough time to glance up to see who was ordering her around before Jessica sailed pass and headed right into the salon proper.

“She’s always like that.” Tiffany offered as she hustled pass after her friend.

“Sally!” Jessica was calling out when Tiffany made it to her side. “We need this quick. We have a dinner party in the country at five.”

“How exciting Miss Jung, and your friend?” Sally was bottle blonde, bedecked with some sort of neon glitter color on her nails that made Tiffany’s eyes ache just looking at her. Tiffany gave her thin smile as Sally beamed her too bright smile in her direction. Tiffany blinked, convinced she could see spots.

“Tiffany Hwang,” Jessica announced proudly. “Best friend, author, recent Lit-Lu employee.”

Sally gasped and clapped her hands excitedly as she led them to two stations next to each other. As Tiffany and Jessica took a seat Sally asked anxiously, “Was that handsome owner there? Oh, he is so cute.”

“You mean Jaejoong?” Tiffany wondered.

“Handsome or cute, Sally, pick one.” Jessica snapped.

“Oh, both, both Miss Jung, and yes, Miss Hwang, that Mr. Jaejoong, aah, he just makes chills go down my side.”

“I think it’s go down your spine.” Tiffany replied gently.

“I doubt that’s what you mean anyway, Sally, but then English isn’t your first language anyway, is it?”

Sally blinked at Jessica in confusion. “But, it is . . . “

Jessica slammed her hands down on the desk and leaned forward. “Listen carefully, Sally, we need these nails done, okay. We both have had a trying day and now we have to go to our friends dinner thingy, and God love her, and so do I, but the people she’s forced to associate with because of her position are just so, so boring. Sometimes I just want to kill myself, Sally, are you understanding me?”

Sally nodded wisely all the while gathering her various nail paraphernalia as Jessica spoke. She was buffing Jessica’s nails before she even resumed speaking. Next to her, Tiffany was receiving treatment from a nail stylist who was silent but friendly and watching Jessica warily out of the corner of her eye like Jessica was about to strike; Tiffany lips quirk at the thought that in the right mood, that was not entirely inaccurate.

“So I need masterpiece nails, Sally, nails that are so beautiful I can distract myself from being bored to tears, oh, ooh, and make them shiny enough that I can see my reflection in them. At least that will keep my attention . . .what, Tiffany? What’s so funny? Oh, should I stop talking, oh okay, Sally what do you have to say?”

Tiffany had to fight to keep from laughing out loud at Jessica’s antics.  Poor Sally was momentarily nonplussed but then perked up as a thought occurred to her.

“Oh, my friend Katherine met this new guy.” Sally beamed at the both of them after this announcement. Jessica raised her eyebrows and shook her head as if to check her hearing.

“And? Is that it?”

“Jessica,” Tiffany admonished her.

“Tiffany met a new guy this afternoon.” Jessica suddenly blurted.

“Jessica!” Tiffany protested, while Sally and the other stylist cooed in approval.

“His name’s Changmin. Apparently he works for that Jaejoong Kim at Lit-Lu so Tiffany will be seeing a lot of him.”

“Is he cute?” Sally wanted to know.

Jessica looked at Tiffany, then Sally and finally the nail stylist who glanced up at her from filing Tiffany’s nails. The full force of all three stares was too much for Tiffany. “Yes,” She sighed.

Sally literally squealed. “How exciting!”

“Yes,” Jessica said with a decidedly evil grin. “Tiffany’s wearing his sweatshirt.”

“Ooh,” Sally leaned over and took a peek at the bright blue hoodie with the words “The Killers” written in white graffiti font across the front. “I was wondering why you were wearing such a big sweater.” Sally giggled. “It’s so high school.”

Tiffany glanced at Jessica with hatred in her eyes. Jessica merely gave her a winning smile, being sure to show her all her teeth.

Sally continued prattling on about sweatshirts and boys she used to date and Tiffany began to tune her out. The gentle touch of her silent nail stylist was soothing and even the up and down undulations of Sally’s high-pitched voice was somewhat soothing, if one didn’t pay attention to the words.

“Anyway, Katherine was telling me that she met this man while he was buying perfume for his wife, you know, she’s a perfume sales girl in SFL, up in the third floor, and she was telling me how he came up all sleek in like Armani or something and she could just smell the money coming from him, you know?  She told me she never wanted a man so bad, but if you ask me it was his money, and not so much his looks, although from what she tells me his looks are top-notch. Whoever his wife is she has no idea what she has been missing, because obviously she hasn’t been taking care of him, if you know what I mean. I mean why else would he cheat on her with a perfume sales girl, not that there is anything wrong with Katherine per se, per se, that’s a word I learned yesterday, it’s French, you say it in between sentences, so, per se, what was I saying?”
“The Armani bastard is cheating on his wife with your spritzer girlfriend.” Jessica prompted.

“Oh, right. So he comes up, and you know how men are when they’re in a women’s store; they have no idea what they are doing. So she’s all helpful and like ‘What can I do for you, sir’ and he’s like ‘well I want to buy a nice perfume for my wife’, and isn’t that just sweet? Really, I mean it wasn’t her birthday or their anniversary or anything. He just wanted to get her a present.”

“How sweet.” Jessica said wryly. “He came to get her perfume and left with a hussy.”

Tiffany snorted and rolled her eyes. Jessica glanced at her and wiggled her eyebrows. “So what perfume did he buy?”

“Delilah, by Chanel,” Sally said decidedly. “That I remember. But what was his name?” She put a finger to her mouth and thought hard, or at least that was what Tiffany thought she was doing. She could’ve also been trying to go in her skirt.

“Delilah?” Jessica said slowly. “That name sounds familiar.”

“Samson.” Tiffany supplied.

“No, Tiffany. Something else,” Jessica creased her brow, thinking hard. On her it looked elegant, and like it was actually working.

“What was his name?” Sally glanced at her co-worker who shrugged noncommittal. “Oh, I’ve only told you this story a million times. At least you could remember.”

Jessica snapped her fingers. “Keteven’s perfume. That’s what she wears, since Henry got it for her a month ago.”

“Henry!” Sally shouted. “That was his first name. Yes, I remember now, it was Henry something . . .”

“Excuse me?” Jessica practically launched herself out of her chair. Tiffany grabbed her arm as Sally clutched her hands to her chest. “There is more than one Henry on this rock.” Tiffany hissed.

“Raleigh.” Tiffany, Jessica, and Sally turned to stare at the until now silent nail stylist. After one last inspection of Tiffany’s left hand, she let it go and brushed her hands on a towel. “It was Henry Raleigh. And it was about a month ago that Katherine met him.”

Jessica turned wide eyes on Tiffany who returned the stare with much the same expression: horror. Turning to Sally, she clutched at her arm. “Tell me more.” She ordered.

Sally huffed and pried Jessica’s hand off of her arm. “Fine, but I’ll have to re-do this hand. You’ve smudged the nail polish.”

Jessica Jung was not one to mince words, so when Taec brought her the coffee, black, that she had demanded she volleyed a question at him before he could even turn around to go back to work. “So, I heard you were the one who told Derek Handler to back off.”

Taec stilled perceptibly and Jessica cocked a knowing eyebrow. “Relax. I’m one of the best friends of the girl he was dating at the time. I’m thankful, or at least I was before I found out that Derek was harassing her just today.”

“What?” Taec placed his hands on the counter and leaned a little closer to Jessica, lowering his voice. “I’m pretty sure I made it clear that he should stay away.”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “I concede that today’s incident might have been accidental. However, he seemed to think he was in the clear.”

Taec shook his head, surprise heavy in his eyes. “Usually guys I threaten stay away. Where did this happen?”

“Here, didn’t you know?” This time Jessica was surprised.

“Here?” Taec’s brow wrinkled and then cleared as he shot a glance at Jaejoong and Tiffany. “Derek was the guy who was harassing some girl in the store today? So I guess she used to be his girlfriend?” He pointed surreptitiously.

“Don’t point.” Jessica snapped, slapping his finger down. “Yes. But from what I hear Jaejoong kicked him out of the store.”

At that Taec shrugged and let loose a sly grin. “Well, if Jaejoong got to him, he won’t be coming back. Jaejoong is the closest thing to a mob boss that Luna has got, except he doesn’t send anyone ‘to the fishes’ or however that saying goes.”

“Mob boss? How is that supposed to make me feel good about him talking to my best friend, right now?” Jessica shot a glance toward Tiffany and Jaejoong, already edging out of her seat.

“Calm down.” Taec laid a hand on her arm. Jessica turned her head slowly and gazed down at it and then brought her gaze up to his face. Taec let go, but not without throwing her a condescending smirk. “When I say mob boss I don’t mean sex, drugs, and hit-men. And when I say Luna I don’t mean the moon, I’m talking about Luna the city. Information, my dear, is the key, and Jaejoong has it. He knows everyone too, and when I mean everyone, I almost do literally mean everyone. People come to him for advice, and they listen. Besides, everyone knows no real mobsters hold any power in Luna City. They’re all in Belarus, or camped in Little Italy in CUSA.”

“Apparently everyone doesn’t know that.” Jessica replied tartly. Though she hadn’t known the full details, she was aware that even though organized crime syndicates were rare in moon colonies (because really, how well could you hide mob activities with a ‘world’ population of a mere five million) but they were quite literally non-existent. Luna City proper was considered neutral territory, the Switzerland of the moon, less because of political neutrality and more because of the almost vigilante attitude Luna City Authority took against organized crime.

“Besides,” Taec continued. “Jaejoong is one of the nicest guys you’ll ever meet. Although he does have this thing about helping people which is probably exactly what he is talking to your girl about. I don’t know how much she’ll appreciate it; sometimes he can be a bit intrusive.” Taec shot her a hooded look. “But you’ve probably recognized that trait right off the bat.”

Jessica pursed her lips at him. “Watch it. But I’m not done. Who is this Changmin person Jaejoong mentioned?”

“Oh, Changmin? He’s a sweet kid. Works here part time, goes to college. He was the first one who helped your girl you know. Rescued her, I guess. Yeah, that Derek whatever, is one bad dude. I could see it in his eyes when I went over to confront him at his house. He looked almost . . . proud of himself.” A dark look came into Taec’s eyes and Jessica decided right there that he was an okay guy. She liked the way he looked like he wanted to tear Derek limb from limb. A man after her own heart. “Listen, if he appears again, because he seems kind of stupid so maybe he didn’t know who he was messing with when he went up against Jaejoong, but if he comes around again, you let me know. I’ll pay him another visit.”

Taec’s grin turned feral. “Maybe next time I won’t be so nice.”

Jessica smirked at him, but filed the suggestion away for further consideration. “If Jaejoong is not an actual mob boss, why does he have hit man like you working for him?”

Taec let out of bark of laughter and pointed playfully at her. “Former hit man. Don’t go spreading that around, though.” Chuckling to himself, Taec took a cleaning rag from the counter and turned his back to Jessica.

Jessica laughed softly to herself as he turned away from her. Soon, however, the laughter died and Jessica found herself gazing at his back in consternation, wondering if he had really been joking.

“Hey,”

Jessica turned, startled, and found Tiffany standing beside her chair. Tiffany looked a little worn out and Jessica felt a small spark of anger as she wondered just what exactly Jaejoong had said to ‘her girl.’

“Are you alright? You look . . .” Jessica reached out and brushed Tiffany’s black hair away from her face.

“No. I’m fine. Jaejoong is blunt, but nice, and kind of nosy, but also . . . really nice.” Jessica looked at Tiffany in confusion and Tiffany shook her head as if to clear her thoughts. “He offered me a job. Here.”

“Here? At a bookstore?”

“The only bookstore on Luna.”

“And you said yes?”

Tiffany sighed and sat down next to Jessica. “Jessica, I have been living off royalties from my book since I was fifteen. I haven’t had to do anything, do any work, to keep the life style that I have been living. I have had nothing but free time. I am bored out of my mind. And with the 10^th anniversary of my book coming up, I don’t want to be the has-been author who wrote one best seller and then partied for the rest of her life like a sorority girl.”

“That’s what you have been doing, though.” Jessica retorted bluntly.

“Yes, and that’s what got me mixed up with Derek and others who will not be named.”

Jessica shrugged nonchalantly. “You don’t have to. I know all their names. And their addresses and now I know someone who can get revenge.” She waved a hand in Taec’s direction.

“Jessica, please, do not go into your psycho revenge mode now-“

“Psycho revenge mode? I do not have a psycho revenge mode, thank you very much—“

“Jessica!” Tiffany held up her hands and Jessica shut up. “I didn’t just arrive at this today. I’ve been feeling like this for a while. I mean yeah, I probably wouldn’t have come in here if it hadn’t rained, but I’ve been thinking about my book, now, for a long time. How it felt to write it. How it felt to be accomplished. And then I get scared and I don’t think about it anymore and I cover it with more, well, booze and boys. I don’t want to feel like that anymore. This job could be like . . . like baby steps. Baby steps to the old me.”

Tiffany gazed at Jessica hopefully, silently pleading with her to get it, to get what she was trying to say. Jessica did, in a sense, though Jessica being Jessica did not know what it was like to not feel accomplished or driven. To feel scared to do the things you have to do to get what you want. However, Jessica did not know or get a lot of the feelings Tiffany felt, forget Keteven and Elo, who as married women were akin to aliens now as far as Jessica was concerned. But despite that, Jessica knew, and she could also tell that Tiffany was on the verge of tears. She knew how to stop that.

“The old you?”

“Yes. The old me. The one before all this crap happened.”

“Like, the fifteen year old you? Because that would make you illegal for a lot of the activities you currently participate in.”

“Jessica!” Tiffany groaned and put her head in her hands, but she was laughing, and when she raised her head again Jessica could tell the tears in her eyes were from something so much better than sadness.

“I love you.” Tiffany breathed through her laughter.

Jessica could feel her own feelings grind into gear, a little rusty from disuse.  Clearing her throat and sliding off the chair carefully, Jessica slung her purse over her shoulder. “You don’t have to be a lesbian about it.” She quipped. “Come on, we have to boogie if we want to get our nails done before Keteven’s dinner thingy. You can tell me more about the job there.”

With a final wave to Taec, who gave her ‘the nod’ as if they shared a secret, and to Jaejoong who was meandering out front from somewhere in the back, Jessica Jung and Tiffany Hwang sailed out of Literary Luna like they were on a mission. Which, in a way, they were.

Jaejoong and Taec watched the two women leave, shaking their heads to themselves at almost the same time. Taec motioned to the door and turned to his boss.

“That Jessica woman; she, she is a piece of work.”

Jaejoong grinned at his erstwhile employee. “Tiffany is too, a little bit, but in a completely different way.”

“Aw come on, she’s not that pathetic.”

Jaejoong shot Taec a severe glance. “No, not what I meant. You should’ve seen the way she captured Changmin with her helpless damsel in distress routine.”

Taec took a step back and looked at his boss carefully. “You think she faked it?”

“Of course not, I think she believes she’s a victim. If she’s the victim then she won’t have to take responsibility for her actions, because everything she does is the fault of what happened to her, or who happened to her. Girls like her attract guys like Derek because guys like Derek know they’ll always let them in far enough to hurt them so they can perpetuate their victim mind set.”

“My God, Jaejoong. Why don’t you just stake her in the heart?”

Jaejoong gave a cool shrug. “I’m not vilifying her for it. She has had no one to teach her differently. Now she does.”

Taec smiled and shook his head as went back to cleaning the counter. “I don’t get something boss. Why do you care? Sure she’s a famous author, and everyone knows who she is, and what happened to her, but why do you personally care?”

Jaejoong blinked and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “I don’t know, sometimes. I guess I’m that guy that sees a deer being run down and takes it to the vet instead of taking it home for dinner.”

Taec looked up at the ceiling and then down at the floor. Finally his gaze returned to Jaejoong’s. “Okay, all I got out of that was that you don’t want to eat Tiffany.”

Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “Whatever, listen, I saw Jessica grilling you. What did she ask?”

Taec shrugged and grinned. “About you. About Changmin.”

Jaejoong’s eyes widened. “What did you tell her?”

“Relax, all I told her was that he was a sweet kid who goes to college and that he was the first one that rescued Tiffany. Of course I didn’t know Tiffany was the same girl you had me warn Derek off of before, though boss. If I had known he was here anyway I would’ve told him where to go. Or showed him there, the little –“

“Yes, yes, Taec, you were very good at what you used to do. Listen, don’t tell Jessica, or Tiffany, or any of her friends about Changmin’s kid alright? I have a feeling that Tiffany’s not going to like that with her past.”

“Okay, but why?”

“I want them to get to know each other, give Changmin a chance before we drop any heavy bombs.”

“He likes her that much?”

Jaejoong sighed and smiled widely at Taec. He crooked his finger and Taec leaned in close. “Changmin went to Tiffany’s elementary school. He’s had a crush on her since the third grade, from a far.”

Taec let out a bark of laughter and Jaejoong shushed him, though he was chuckling himself. “Never breathe a word.”

Taec nodded his head in acquisance, though mirth still sparkled in his eyes. “I won’t boss, but boss, that is just . . . so damn cute.”

That set Jaejoong off again and Taec joined him until both were brushing tears from their eyes.

Changmin approached the counter, curiosity written across his face. “What’s so funny?”

Jaejoong and Taec froze and the glanced at each, their lips trembling.

“Cute.” Taec sputtered, and ran into the back with Jaejoong on his heels in mock anger.

Changmin stood at the counter staring at the empty space where Jaejoong and Taec once stood. “Okay.” He muttered. “I’m never asking that here again.”

It was awkward to say the least. Not only did Jaejoong Kim just see her humiliated by the irksome Derek, but he obviously also felt the need to give her a talk, so pathetic was she. Tiffany Hwang sighed softly to herself and placed her hands around the tea cup on the table in front of her. The aroma of whatever tea it was smelled heavenly, but Jaejoong had warned her to wait a few minutes before she took a sip or, as he put it, ‘her tongue would be scalded off’. Then he had jumped up and disappeared somewhere behind the counter of the little café area.

Tiffany had not realized Lit-Lu had had a café; much less one with a full-fledged coffee and tea menu, with what appeared to be a smorgasbord of scrumptious bakery delights as well. Nor had she known that the Lit-Lu owner was not only pretty young (Jaejoong was probably 30 at the most) but that he was also extremely attractive. Not to mention those he employed.

This last thought brought Changmin to mind and Tiffany felt herself blush with a combination of girlish excitement and shame. Shame because Changmin had so unfortunately witnessed the result of one of her last forays into a relationship (if it could ever be called a relationship) and as a consequence, had to rescue her pathetic behind from the culmination of every bad choice she ever made in a relationship.

This culmination went by the name of Derek Handler, and boy, did he handle her, roughly, and without apology, and it had taken Tiffany two months to realize that telling him to stop was not going to make him go away on his own. So she had gone to her girls for help: Keteven, Jessica, and Eloise, or Elo, as everyone called her. Jessica had been pissed, of course, at Tiffany and for Tiffany, while Keteven and Elo just kept asking if she was okay, if she wanted them to do anything. Tiffany had said no at first, saying that she had just wanted to come to them for ideas, but before she had even finished her talk with them, Keteven had snuck away and called her husband, Henry.

Tiffany wasn’t quite sure what Henry, or whoever Henry had sent, had said to Derek, but whatever it was it had scared him away, at least for a while. Tiffany wondered if the run in today had truly been a coincidence or if Derek had been following her.

Of course, if Derek hadn’t run into her, for whatever reason, she would have probably never met Changmin.

Tiffany grimaced and picked up her tea. There was where the girlish excitement came from. Maybe Changmin hadn’t been wearing a suit of armor like in those old Earth stories, but he had certainly come to her rescue, even after he had heard some of things Derek had said.

He had made her feel like a lady almost, the way he had stood up for her, as if she was something worth standing up for. Not to the mention the way he had quickly offered her his hoodie instead of taking the opportunity to stare. That, more than anything, had made her feel like a lady, and had shocked her. She couldn’t remember the last time any guy had treated her with such respect.

A movement brought Tiffany out of her reverie and she looked up to see Jaejoong trotting over with two plates of what looked like cinnamon raisin muffins fresh from the oven. Tiffany smiled to herself as Jaejoong approached. Jaejoong had been quite the gentlemen as well, although there was quirky nosiness about him that made his solicitous manner appear rife with ulterior motives. Tiffany wasn’t blind; she had seen the little winks Jaejoong had shot Changmin. She could practically see the schemes forming behind his blue contacts.

Jaejoong sat opposite her and motioned merrily to her tea. “I should be cool of enough now. Try it.”

Sniffing the aroma in anticipation, Tiffany took a cautionary sip. The warm vibrant taste of apple spread across her tongue.

“Apples.” She said.  Apples were grown in scattered orchards in CUSA and Sakura, not to mention Belarus and the small Joseon lunar colony, but the lunar apples, for one reason or another, could not compare to Earth apples. Tiffany, being one of the few lunar born to actually travel to Earth, could tell the difference.

“Isn’t it great? I have a friend who travels back and forth and always brings me a few.”

“Back and forth? You mean from Luna to Earth?” Tiffany’s eyes widened. Though not as expensive as it was in the early days of space travel, if a simple flight from the moon to earth could be called ‘space travel’, the amount for one person to travel from the earth to the moon and back was about the same as it was to buy a brand new Audi on earth, every day, for a week. Most flights were filled with earth made goods or resources. Tiffany knew that Keteven, being an earth-born married to a lunar-born, had a special voucher once a year to visit her family, but otherwise most had to pay out of pocket, and the vouchers were closer to a coupon than a free pass, anyway. Once you moved to the lunar colonies, you were stuck there until and unless you could save up enough to move back. Most couldn’t which was why a good part of the population on the moon had been born there.

“I didn’t know there were people who could travel back and forth like that.” Tiffany breathed, momentarily in awe over how much Jaejoong’s friend must make to afford it.

Jaejoong grinned, guessing her thoughts. “Don’t be so amazed. He’s actually a pilot, flies the Asimov.”

“Wow. That’s still pretty cool. I haven’t been on a ship since . . .” Tiffany trailed off. She hadn’t been on a ship since just before she had finalized the emancipation process from her father.

Jaejoong watched her over his tea cup as she trailed off and began to pick at her cinnamon raison muffin. He had a pretty good idea why she hadn’t finished her sentence. Tiffany Hwang had been the poster child for the lunar colonies when she had attained the best seller list in several countries on earth and the lunar colonies, at the age of only fifteen. To top it off, she had been pretty, yet awkwardly cute with her recently acquired braces and a tendency to wear her hair in braids when she was on tour. Jaejoong, at thirty-five, had been the same age Tiffany was now when she broke out into notoriety. He had just finished business school after working under the previous owner of Lit-Lu, Heechul Kim, no relation. By the time Heechul had handed over the business and retired on some island in the Bahamas’s on earth, he being one of lucky ones who had ventured out to Luna and yet made enough to return, Tiffany had made headlines emancipating herself from her father and for all intents and purposes, disappeared from public view.

Except she hadn’t completely disappeared off Jaejoong’s radar; as the owner of the only bookstore on Luna, with ties to the infamous B&N conglomerate back on earth, Jaejoong had a certain in with Luna’s literary society, who, with the lunar colonies being the size that that they are, also had an in with most of the upper echelons of the lunar colonies. One of the most prominent being Henry Raleigh, who over the years became a good friend to Jaejoong,  (and his business partner in charge of the café quadrant of Lit-Lu, Junsu Kim, no relation), and knowing Jaejoong’s interest in any literary news, often shared tid bits of Tiffany’s doings that Henry heard at times from his wife, Keteven.

Obviously Henry had not been privy to all of Tiffany’s exploits, but he had mentioned the call he received from his wife, Keteven, about a certain Derek Handler who had been treating Tiffany, as Henry delicately referred to it “inappropriately”. It had been one of Jaejoong’s own employees, a man everyone called Taec, with a somewhat dark past that had politely told Derek where to go.

Now, sitting across from Tiffany herself, who sat sipping apple tea with such delight, smothered in Changmin’s hoodie, Jaejoong felt almost a fatherly concern for her blossom in him.

In fact, she reminded him of the Changmin of a couple years ago.

“Tiffany, what exactly are you doing at this moment?”

Tiffany stared at Jaejoong in confusion. She glanced down at her tea, and the cinnamon muffin that she had picked at but not yet eaten, and looked up again with a guilty expression. Hastily, she snatched up a piece of the muffin and put it in her mouth.

Jaejoong almost rolled his eyes. “No, darling, I mean for employment.”

“Employment? Well, I don’t really need to work. I still have plenty left over from when. . . you know, and besides, I still get royalties from earth and stuff. They use my book in their high schools, did you know that?”

“Yes, being the only bookstore slash library owner on this entire moon, I am aware of all the doings of every literary inclined person on aforesaid moon. However, I must tell you, that out of all the authors that reside on this rock, two hundred and fifty-six as of today, and counting, you are the only one that has not written a second book.”

Tiffany glared at Jaejoong, her expression becoming guarded. Jaejoong held up his hand.

“Before you become insulted let me finish. Because there are only two hundred or so authors on this rock, most of them are quite famous, especially you, having been only fifteen at the time of your publication. However, due to no sequel and or second book coming forth, you dropped out of public radar. Again, however, just because you’ve dropped out of public radar does not mean you have dropped out Luna’s literary society’s radar.”

Jaejoong paused and watched as Tiffany’s face became a little bit pale. “Just because you’ve ignored literary society does not mean the literary society had ignored you.”

Tiffany felt her heart sink in her chest, not figuratively, but literally, she felt. She almost wished Jaejoong had just reached into her chest and torn her heart out. Even at the tender age of fifteen she had recognized that Luna’s literary circle could be catty, full of drama, intrigue, some of the downright sleazy kind.  After she had emancipated herself, Tiffany had thrown herself into finishing school and forgetting the world and everyone in it. She hadn’t thought of the way Luna’s literary circle could be in years. It had never occurred to her that there would be any interest in her either after all these years.

“What do they say about me?” She breathed.

“I try not to listen too much. I’m sure most of it is hyperbole anyway.”

“Are you?” Tiffany pressed her lips closed and looked Jaejoong in the eye. Jaejoong couldn’t have looked away if he had wanted to, so vivid was the well of hurt in her eyes.

“I only mention this—“ Jaejoong pauses and refocuses his attention on something other than her expression. “I only say this because the tenth anniversary of your book is coming up. Luna Publishing is going to do a special edition. Were you aware of this?”

“They sent me a letter.” Tiffany said stonily, her expression clearly broadcasting her desire to know where this conversation was going.  Tiffany had given the publishers permission to do whatever they wanted with the book, as long as they sent her checks when appropriate. Along with the letter about the special edition, they had sent a request for her to sign or speak, or anything, really, as the tone of the letter clearly stated. Tiffany refused off hand, and the publishers were so used to her refusals by now that they acquiesced without even a whimper.

“Whether you’re going to be directly involved or not this special edition will generate a lot more hype than you realize. Articles will be written, perhaps even a few essays, reporters may come knocking at your door. ‘What have you been up to in the last fifteen years Miss Tiffany?’ Something like that. Do you really want to be doing nothing?” As he finished, Jaejoong leaned forward and cocked an eyebrow at her.

By this time, overcome with memories and self-recrimination, and wondering why she let Jaejoong, a person she had just met, talk to her this way, Tiffany had eaten the entire cinnamon muffin and drank the apple tea down to its dregs.  Setting the tea gently down in its saucer, she looked up at Jaejoong’s earnest face, thought of the empty, yet financially secure hours ahead of her, like every other week, and then decided.

“What do you have in mind?”

“Tiffany!”

Tiffany and Jaejoong turned around to find a young slim, powerhouse of a woman barreling down in them in leopard print Armani shoes.

“Oh my god.” Tiffany murmured.

“Hey,” Jessica Jung said, side eyeing Jaejoong like he was some pedophile let out on the streets. “So, some guy texted Henry, who texted Yunho, who texted Elo, who texted me and said that you were here, of all places. Are you all right? Why are you here, are you having a nervous breakdown? Again?”

“Oh my god.” Tiffany simply repeated.

Jessica turned her sharp gaze onto Jaejoong.

“Who the hell are you?”

Jaejoong momentarily stayed in his chair, gazing at Jessica in a manner that would have been closer to awe if it didn’t have a hint of concern in it. After a brief almost imperceptible moment when Jaejoong stayed motionless for one second too long, he rose suddenly from his chair and offered Jessica his hand.

“I am Jaejoong Kim, owner of Literary Luna, or Lit-Lu as it is commonly called. I am also ‘the guy’ who texted Henry, as he is a good friend of mine. As is, coincidently, Yunho.”

Tiffany gaped, momentarily stunned. “Wait, so you know both Henry and Yunho?”

“Is that important?”

“They just happen to be the husbands of our two best friends, Keteven and Eloise, or Elo.”

Jaejoong snapped his fingers. “I have heard of them but never had the pleasure of meeting them.”

Jessica turned to Tiffany and said in her normal tone of voice. “Are you sure he’s not a stalker?”

“Jessica!” Tiffany admonished. “In fact, Jaejoong helped me out today. I ran into Derek.”

“Derek! That psychotic freak?” Jessica’s voice reached an octave too high and Tiffany, Jaejoong, and some guy sitting at the next table all shushed her.

“Wait? That was Derek? The guy that was harassing you earlier?” Jaejoong blinked at Tiffany then narrowed his eyes. The stone expression from earlier cam over his face.

“Son of a—“

“How do you know about Derek?” Jessica nearly growled.

Jaejoong shot her glance with a hint of ice, her tone and attitude finally getting under his skin. “See that the guy with the tattoos buttering those strawberry scones behind the counter?”

Both Tiffany and Jessica turned to stare. “Yes.” Jessica hissed. Tiffany nodded.

“That’s the guy I sent over to Derek’s house after Henry mentioned him to me. I told him I knew someone who could take care of it, and he did. For a while.” Jaejoong ruffled his fingers through his own bangs. “I wonder if I should’ve told him to be a bit harsher?” He mused to himself.

Jessica leaned close to Tiffany. “I don’t know whether to approve or not.” She whispered.

“Yunho and Henry are friends with him. Besides it’s not like I’m dating him.” Tiffany hissed back.

“Right, whether you approve of me or not can be talked about later; Jessica, my dear, if you could sit at the counter, I’ll have someone bring some tea and scones.” Jaejoong motioned vaguely toward the counter where the tattooed café worker was calmly buttering scones and perhaps even humming to himself, though they couldn’t tell for sure from that distance. Jessica looked askance at the dangerous looking man buttering scones and the tasteless, in her opinion, chairs lined up along the counter and turned back to Jaejoong.

“What?”

“We were in the middle of discussing something for Tiffany to do. After we’re done, you both can stay as long as you like and then she can tell you about Changmin.”

“Who?” Jessica turned a glare on Tiffany who couldn’t see it because she was glaring at Jaejoong.

“Well, we don’t have to be anywhere for the next three hours. Remember Keteven’s dinner thingy is at five.” Jessica sent one more narrow-eyed glance toward Jaejoong before sashaying toward the counter. “Hey, tattoo boy. You have some coffee back there? Black?”

“Is she always like that?” Jaejoong wondered.

“Oh my god,” was Tiffany’s only reply.

While Tiffany was having a heart to heart with Jaejoong in town, her best friend Keteven Raleigh was knee-deep in the dirt in her back yard, pulling out weeds with perhaps a little too much energy. A growing pile of weeds and a few actual plants mixed in was starting to rise up behind her.

Keteven paused and brushed her dirty gloves across her brow without thinking. The techies at the weather center must have decided to make it hot today while they sipped cokes in their air-conditioned offices. Keteven grimaced and took a glance at the sun, or, the picture of the sun from Earth’s point of view that was being projected over the force field that protected the inhabitants of the lunar colony from the cold reaches of outer space. Since it was only a picture of the sun, and not the real sun, it obviously gave off no real heat. But Keteven Raleigh, earth-born as she was, still had the habit of glaring up at the damn thing every time the heat got too much for her.

Throwing down the last weed she clutched in her hand, Keteven stood up brushing the dirt off her jeans. With a firm measured step, she started back toward the house, her original plan of cleaning up after her weeding adventure almost all but forgotten.

Gardens in backyards were common on Luna, and almost a point of lunar patriotism to have one, much like the victory gardens in WWII. Though there was always plenty of food on Luna, fresh vegetables, and fruits, were astronomically expensive when imported from Earth. Hence the community orchards run in various lunar colonies and the backyard gardens that housewives like Keteven made a point of pride to keep.

Keteven, however, was past pride for her garden. She had never been a proverbial green thumb when she was younger and marriage to the one of the premier business men on the lunar colonies did nothing to heighten that interest. But as Henry Raleigh’s wife, she had an appearance to keep up.

Keteven slammed her front door shut, flinching at the loud echoing noise that resounded across her house. In the front, she could hear her dog, Mars, express his complaints. He had probably been napping. Keteven rolled her eyes and loped into her kitchen, tearing off her gardening gloves, reaching into the cupboard without washing her hands, taking out a wine glass and pouring chilled champagne into it from the refrigerator. She knocked back the glass as Mars trotted into the kitchen and panted at her.

“What?”

Mars cocked a doggy eyebrow, like he was judging.

“Don’t look at me like that. I give you massages.”

Mars appeared to give a doggy shrug and then loped out of the kitchen, suddenly bursting into loud barks as the doorbell rang before slinking lazily back to his room.

“Who could that be?” Keteven groaned, hoping it wasn’t one of her neighbors. She was not in the mood for nice chit-chat. “Some guard dog, you are.” She called out to Mars, as an afterthought.

The doorbell rang again, insistently, and Keteven called out “I’m coming, I’m coming!” She yanked open the door, about to rip the annoying door-bell happy person a new one when she realized that she was looking out into her empty front lawn. Confusion prevailed before a shifting motion around the level of her waist caught her attention and Keteven looked down to find an uniformed orangutan standing on her door step.

The orangutan was well-groomed with a soft ginger colored hair and a spiffy little Luna Post Service jacket. Besides the orangutan was a little automated cart filled with mail. A plain white name tag sowed into the blue jacket read “Perry”.

Keteven stared, mouth open. As soon as the orangutan realized he had her attention he pressed a flashy silver button attached under his name tag.

A too loud metallic voice sang out. “Keteven Raleigh?”

There was barely any inflection in the synthesized voice but Keteven assumed the question mark at the end. “Yes,” She replied cautiously.

The orangutan bared his teeth in what Keteven hoped was a grin and turned to shuffle through the mail in the cart. Pulling what looked like a small scanner out of his jacket pocket, Perry painstakingly picked up one envelope at a time, passed the scanner over the front surface, and carefully replaced it when whatever signal he was waiting for did not occur. After a few awkward minutes of Keteven trying to tamp down her impatience and the laughter that was slowly trying to bubble to the surface, and Perry, avoiding her gaze as he sifted through what seemed every piece of mail in the cart; the scanner finally produced a loud beep over a small box.

Proudly, Perry swung to face her and extended the box to her. Keteven took it gingerly from his hand, giving him a wide smile to show she was happy. “Thank you.” Perry held up a peremptory finger. Keteven blinked. Reaching into his jacket pocket again, Perry produced a smaller scanner, with the screen facing up right. Pressing a button on the side, Perry turned the smaller scanner around so the screen was facing towards Keteven. He extended it and pressed the flashy silver button on his lapel.

“Thumb print, please,” said the disembodied voice.

“Oh, right.” Keteven pressed her thumb against the screen until it beeped. Perry stuffed the scanner back into his pocket and then looked up expectantly at her.

“Ok . . .” Keteven hesitated, backing into the house. “Thank you?”

Perry shook his head and extended his hand palm up. Keteven glanced at his hand and then back to his primate face. Perry made a sound, what sounded almost like a sigh, and then brought his hand to his mouth, then extended it out again in a sharp movement that made Keteven jump. Perry did it again, then once more and then stared.

“Oh, um, yes, a treat? I have bananas. I’ll go get them. Um, stay? Stay.”

Keteven rushed into her kitchen and tore off a banana from the ones that usually sat moldering in a basket on the kitchen. Bananas had not been her favorite fruit of late. The smell had started to make her feel queasy for some reason. With the banana in her hand Keteven wrinkled her nose and felt her bile rise. Making a disgusted sound, Keteven turned back to give Perry his treat only to find Perry, the post-orangutan standing right behind her in her kitchen.

“Um . . .” Keteven began but Perry seemed to think it was high time he had his treat. He snatched the banana out of her hand, walked over to the very expensive ash breakfast table and sat himself down in one of the chairs.

“Perry.” Keteven said, the ridiculousness of her situation making her struggle to keep her facial expression stern and her voice even. “We need to talk.” She nearly choked out, and then rushed to the sink to vomit on the pristine silver finish.

“Oh, God, bananas.” She groaned, and then vomited again.

In any case, I have not given up, even though at this point I am mostly writing this update for my own amusement. Huzzah.

Love Writerhime

Love,

Writerhime

1. Yes, this is basically, sort of, kind of a fan fiction of “The Women“, that movie with Meg Ryan. However, I have taken the basic story line and twisted it to my own wacky preferences, which is why it is based on a futuristic moon colony.
2. Yes, you might recognize some of the names in the story. However, this is not necessarily a DBSK or SNSD or SuJu fan fiction. These real life people have such an aura around them and such a personality that they inspire some of my characters and some of my characters are based on them, to the point of using the same name. However, as it is impossible for it to be like the actual people, there will be differences.
3. I also mean no disrespect to the actual real people they are based on (especially Tiffany, don’t worry she gets straightened out. MyTiffany, not RealTiffany.)
4. All other characters are original, meaning I claim them and don’t even think of  using them for your own use. Think of them as copyrighted by me.
5. I want to explain something right now that you might not get, but oh well. You will see a character in All at Once, called Keteven Raleigh. She will most likely pop up in other stories as well. She is what I call my all-character. When I have a story idea, she is the one that plays around in the setting and plot first. Sometimes she morphs into someone completely different; sometimes she stays with her original personality and characteristics.  On some occasions she might be a man. Or an alien. On others, the character I do finally come up with is someone so completely different that it is not even Keteven at all. In any case, in the different stories she may or may not appear in, she might be totally different than she was in a previous story. In that case, you can view her as different person altogether. I know, its weird, but this is how my brain works. Think of her as my Barbie. One day an stewardess, the next a CEO, the next a single mother with tattoos. That’s Keteven Raleigh.
6. I also have a habit of naming my stories after song titles which I also usually use as my theme songs.

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Tiffany Hwang wished she hadn’t worn her high heels. At least not her teal blue ones, even though they were pretty and shiny and made her feel like Wonder Woman, except in Chanel and Gucci instead of a hideous strip of spandex. She liked the feeling, but the six inch spike heel was not doing good things to her lower back and thighs. Or the bottom of her feet. Or her knees.

Sighing, Tiffany stops in the middle of the sidewalk and reaches down to rub her ankle. As she leans over, her purse swings forward and falls off her shoulder to plop on the ground.

Tiffany swears under her breath and snatches the purse from the ground, slamming her upright foot on the ground in the process. She winces, closing her eyes for a brief moment only to snap them open as a peel of thunder sounds over head.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Tiffany scans the Oversky looking for signs of real thunder clouds, but the sky remains the clear blue it must be on Earth. Tiffany turns in the other direction and cranes her neck, searching. She flinches as another peel of thunder rolls ominously.

“You better get inside, miss.” An old man wearing Dockers and polo shirt huffs past in his effort to get into shelter.

“There’s no rain scheduled!” Tiffany protests.

“The interns got hold of the weather room again, most likely!” The old man calls back.

An earth shattering peel of thunder crashes against Tiffany’s ears. She shrieks and ducks, covering her head with her hands. Seconds later, a veritable bevy of buckets of rain pours down onto the austere streets of Luna City.

“Why does this happen to me?” Tiffany shrieks as she races down the street. The very next building is bright and welcoming and Tiffany veers toward it only to halt in mid step, staring up at the sign.

Literary Luna.

“Damn it.”

Another crash of thunder sounds and Tiffany rushes to the double doors, prying them open and leaping through as another roll of thunder crashes. This time the interns add a light show of lightening to the effect and the inside of Literary Luna is lit up in stark relief as Tiffany stares at the row upon row of shelves filled with the things she hates most.

Books.

Tiffany can feel herself grinding her teeth and put a hand to her jaw, rubbing it absently. The inside of Lit-Lu is well lit, but chilly after the rain. Tiffany puts her arms around herself, and then moves them up to cover her chest as she realizes that the white t-shirt she put on this morning was probably not a good idea. Neither, probably, was the bright pink bra.

Yeah, definitely not the best idea if the looks thrown her way by the customers of the male persuasion was any sign. Tiffany hugged herself as casually as she could and shuffled forward in her wet jeans and heels. She made her way through the stacks, wandering aimlessly at first, but then her wandering took on a straighter line and a small frown flitted across Tiffany’s face as she realized where her treacherous feet were leading. Pass one shelf, then another, and she was there, non-fiction, essays and criticisms. Tiffany felt her breath still as she slowly stepped into the aisle and made her way to the H’s. She stood in front of the shelf, her eyes unfocused. She hugged herself tighter, biting her lip. Hwang. Right on the spine, in bright white letter. There was only one book, not surprising since it had been almost ten years since she wrote anything. But there it stood, proudly, on the shelf sandwiched in between other authors with many books under their belts. Alone, but still there. Tiffany reached out a trembling finger and softly touched the spine. Her book.

She hated the sight of it.

“Tiffany?”

Tiffany froze, her finger still on the spine. She slowly turned her head and gasped against her will. Derek grinned, like the predator he is.

“Tiffany. What you doing? Looking at your book?”

Tiffany snatched her hand away and took a step back. Derek followed her as if they were in a dance and invaded her personal space. This time she took two steps back.

“I just got caught in the rain, is all. I didn’t really intend to come here.”

“Did it rain?” Derek made as if to look around even though from the area they stood inside Lit-Lu no windows could be seen. “I didn’t notice.” He grinned a lascivious grin. “Until now of course.”

Tiffany nearly choked on her spit and took another step back. Derek followed her, talking all the while. “So I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner and maybe, I don’t know, stay over. Since its been awhile.”

Tiffany felt her chest tighten and the anger she hadn’t felt before burst open inside her chest. “Oh, I don’t know Derek. It hasn’t been long enough for me yet, I don’t think.”

Derek’s face visibly tightened and he took another step forward with far more intent. “You know, I keep being nice to you, but you’ve been dissing me ever since we–”

“I haven’t been dissing you, Derek! I’ve just been trying to get across to you – politely – that I don’t want to sleep with you again. Or have dinner, or lunch, or a conversation. I thought women were supposed to be the emotional ones.”

As Tiffany spoke she backed slowly away, knowing Derek all too well. When she finished speaking, just like she thought, Derek made an inarticulate sound of anger and lunged at her. Tiffany skipped away just out of reach and turned and ran down the aisle.

“Hey! Tiffany! Hey!” Derek’s voice almost came out in a growl.

She turned right, then right again, ran back down the other aisle, and passed the aisle where her confrontation with Derek started. She could see him standing just off to the side, confused. Suddenly, he turned as if he could feel her presence and growled as he started forward. Tiffany felt her breath leave her momentarily. The look on his face sent her courage skittering away and Tiffany was momentarily paralyzed with a familiar fear. Another beat, and Derek was closer, and Tiffany legs started moving her again, propelling her forward and away. She ran three aisles over and ducked into the third. She backtracked two over and scuttled halfway down. A ladder was leaning against one of the bookshelves and Tiffany put her back to it as she glanced anxiously behind her.

Tiffany stood there, tense, her ears straining for the sound of footsteps when she heard a shuffling sound above her head. Gasping, Tiffany wheeled around and looked up, her hand to her chest.

Above her head, a young man stood on the ladder, one hand casually placed on the top of the book case, the other dangling a book between his fingertips which he tapped rhythmically against his jeans. He was looking down at her with a bemused expression, colored with slight worry.

“Are you alright?”

“What? Oh, yeah. You just startled me, I didn’t realize you were there.” Tiffany waved vaguely over her head as if gesturing to the sky and beyond instead of just a few feet up a ladder.

The man’s eyebrow’s furrowed and he looked at her strangely. “No.” He said slowly. “I mean with that guy.”

Tiffany blinked rapidly and tried to look innocent and unmolested. “What guy? What do you mean?”

The man motioned to the next aisle over and Tiffany realized the man had been on the ladder right next to them the whole time she had been talking to Derek.

“The guy you were yelling at just now. You didn’t want to sleep with him, have dinner or lunch, or talk with him-”

“Were you spying on me?” Tiffany gasped.

“Its kind of hard not to hear you.”

“Well, no, I guess not from up there! What were doing up there anyway?”

The man motioned to a cart beside the ladder and then a small name tag on his hoodie that read simply “Changmin”. “In case you haven’t noticed, Tiffany, I work here.”

Tiffany didn’t know whether to be amused or angry. She chose angry, and sputtered at him almost incoherently. “That still doesn’t explain — you could at least pretend — how do you know my name?”

Changmin grinned, his eyes crinkling unevenly, causing him to look impossibly younger. Tiffany almost melted into a puddle of goo at the sight.

“He was kind of shouting it?”

“Oh . . .”

“And I’ve read your book.”

Tiffany stared at him in shock and unconsciously touched her face. She didn’t even remember what her picture had looked like on that back cover but she was sure it hadn’t been pretty. She had braces back then.

“That was ten years ago.”

“You still look pretty good.” Changmin replies nonchalantly, flashing her another grin.

Tiffany finds herself blushing, then frowns thoughtfully. “What do you mean ‘pretty good’?”

Changmin merely laughs and steps gingerly down the ladder. He selects a book from the cart, looks at it, and climbs back up the ladder and places it between two others on the shelf. Tiffany watches him, half curiously, half resentfully, and notices the top two shelves are nearly empty, waiting for the full cartload of books.

“Extra books?” Tiffany hazards a guess.

“Yeah. These are actually extra fiction. We always have more than our fiction section can hold.” Changmin hands her a novel.

Tiffany glances over it, brushing her fingers along the cover. She rubs her finger over the author’s name, a woman, as if to erase it. She had been her favorite author, when Tiffany was younger. Before Tiffany had written her own book. Though not a novel, Tiffany’s book of essays had reached quick fame, partly due to the fact she was the youngest person on Luna to ever publish a book, and partly because she had made the bestsellers list on Earth as well as Luna.

At the tender age of fifteen, Tiffany had been caught up in a wave of fame and hype. Situations beyond her years had been thrown at her from left to right, but back at the beginning her father had been with her every step of the way, proud and protective. That was, until the money got to him. Before she knew it, he was pushing her to be at every signing, at every event conceivable, even traveling back and forth between Luna and Earth several times a month, a thing unheard of for a single family. That hadn’t been the last straw. Tiffany would have gladly slaved away at the conventions and the signings and spend all night writing her second book for her father. It was when he started spending the money on all those women that Tiffany broke down. Her mother not two years dead, and here her father was buying Chanel handbags for two or three floozies a month.

Tiffany made the records again, as the first child on Luna to become emancipated.

She hadn’t spoken to her father since. She hadn’t written since. She hadn’t even read a book since, or held one in her hand.

Tiffany let out a derisive snort. Changmin glanced at her in surprise, then quickly away, blowing air softly through his lips.

“Do you want my hoodie?”

“Hmmmm?” Tiffany murmured, her mind still on her past. She looked up absently at Changmin.

Studiously avoiding her direct gaze, Changmin made a circular motion toward the general area of her chest.

Tiffany looked down, gasped, and clutched the book over her chest. Flustered, she spun around, then spun back, looking around as if to find help somewhere else.

Sighing, Changmin climbed down from the ladder and pulled his hoodie over his head. Despite herself, Tiffany watched mesmerized as the pull of the hoodie tugged Changmin’s t-shirt up a few inches, revealing extremely smooth and defined abs. Pulling the hoodie over his head, Changmin shook his bangs out of his eyes and they obediently fell back into place almost magically.

Tiffany gaped.

Changmin held his hoodie out to her, then looked at her in confusion when she made no move to take it. He shook it a little bit in his hands, as if to get her attention. Her eyes flicked toward the hoodie, and back to his face but she made no move to take it.

Tiffany’s heart was beating faster and faster every minute. She could feel the old want again. Here was a seemingly sweet guy, with really nice abs and apparently obedient and perfect hair and Tiffany wanted him, like she wanted all the others. Not just physically (although to say that wasn’t a factor would be a total lie) but her heart was responding to his compassion to a stranger. Her heart wanted him, not just her libido.

But she was a boy breaker. Or at least a relationship smasher. She always gave her heart too soon or not soon enough, and the end always came after she gave her body. Tiffany was too tired after this last one, and Derek had been the one before that, and honestly, by now, Tiffany had lost count.

Changmin would just be adding to a long list of used-to-dates and once-slept-with-him-ruined-everything.

Tiffany was brought back to reality when Changmin grabbed the book out of her hands and dropped it on the floor. Tapping her arms, he looked expectantly at her until she raised them cautiously. Smoothly sliding the hoodie over her arms and head, Changmin stepped back and let her slide it over her chest herself.

Tiffany was blushing deeply now, mortified that Changmin had practically had to help her put it on, she had been so deep in thought and wanting. ‘I’m too lonely,’ Tiffany thought at Changmin. ‘For you to be treating me this nice. Stop it. Before I break you.’

“Thanks.” She mumbled. He was looking at her with even more concern than before, and Tiffany had the fight back the overwhelming desire to bury her face in his chest and cry.

“No prob-” Changmin began, and then his eyes slid past her, narrowing.

Tiffany spun around and gasped upon seeing Derek striding toward them, fists clenched. He didn’t seem to notice Changmin and as he walked toward her, Derek growled at her in a low voice. “You don’t walk away when I’m talking to you-”

As smoothly as a panther, Changmin was between Tiffany and Derek and halted Derek mid stride, who seemed shocked at his presence. That passed quickly and Derek was getting into Changmin’s space. “ This is not your business, man. Step out of the way.”

“I think you should leave before I call security.” Changmin replied evenly. Tiffany felt her breath catch in her throat at the even, calm tone of Changmin’s voice. She could here an undertone of purr in it, almost like her father used to get when he was at that calm before the storm.

Derek seemed momentarily taken aback at the threat of security, but then narrowed his eyes. “What? I haven’t done anything–”

“We do not condone sexual harassment here.”

Derek laughs softly and steps even closer. “Dude, you better-”

A hand landed none too softly on Derek’s shoulder and Derek, Changmin, and Tiffany turned to look at the man standing nonchalantly behind him. Changmin relaxed visibly. Tiffany was startled to find that she could feel it through his arm, which she had been holding onto tightly. She didn’t let go however. Changmin might feel relief, but Tiffany had no idea how that man would get someone like Derek to go away.

The man was gorgeous, his face a perfect example of classic Asian beauty, with large, surprisingly blue eyes that Tiffany suspected were contacts. His face would have looked like porcelain, if not for the below zero expression currently on his face. Eyes like ice, a face like stone.

Tiffany almost started to compose a sonnet, and then remembered she hated to write.

“Is there a problem here?” The man’s voice wasn’t as deep as Tiffany had expected. It had a musical note to it, as if the quality of his speaking voice was one step away from his singing voice. Tiffany felt Changmin relax further at the sound.

“Who the hell are you?” Derek sneered, breaking the spell.

“I’m Jaejoong, the owner of this establishment. Who the hell are you?” The first was said in a perfectly respectful tone, but when Jaejoong uttered the second sentence that purr undertone sang out again and Tiffany found herself shuddering. Changmin was a kitten compared to Jaejoong’s lion.

A really cute kitten though.

“I–” Derek started, bringing Tiffany back to reality.

“You know what,” This time Jaejoong was almost literally purring. “It doesn’t really matter. You are causing a ruckus in my place of business so I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Derek seemed taken aback. He gestured wordlessly at Tiffany and opened his mouth. Jaejoong, who still had his hand on Derek’s shoulder, gently but firmly pulled him back.

“Yes. Without the girl.”

Derek narrowed his eyes and stepped up into Jaejoong’s space. Before he could even open his mouth, Jaejoong said three words in the coldest voice Tiffany had ever heard.

“I. Said. Leave.”

There was a moment when Tiffany could feel herself and Changmin holding their breath, and then Derek shot a glare their way, turned, and stalked off. Jaejoong turned his back on them to watch him go and Tiffany released her death grip on Changmin’s arm.

When Jaejoong turned back around Tiffany almost grabbed a hold of Changmin again. Jaejoong’s features were wreathed in smiles and his formally cold eyes were radiating warmth even through the color contacts.

“Is that that hoodie I gave you?”

“She’s borrowing it. Got caught in a rain shower.”

Jaejoong’s face took on a wild contortion that made Tiffany stare and then he scowled. “Those hyped up weather jockeys. I can’t stand them. They think their job is a playground.”

Changmin leaned close to Tiffany and whispered in her ear. “He was caught in a rain shower, too, only after a perm.”

Tiffany stifled her giggle with her hand and then gasped softly when Jaejoong pulled back and hit Changmin none too softly on the arm with his fist.

“Ouch.” Changmin said calmly, rubbing his arm.

“Have you offered her refreshment?” Jaejoong demanded, as if he hadn’t just punched his employee in the arm.

“I haven’t exactly–”

“This is why Changmin doesn’t have girlfriend.” Jaejoong said to Tiffany, as if Changmin wasn’t there.

“Nice. Real nice.” Changmin retorted. Tiffany actually did think it was nice. “And if you want to offer refreshment make sure its free. She’s an author.”

Jaejoong broke out into a grin that nearly blinded Tiffany with its brilliance. “Really? What’s your name?”

“Tiffany Hwang.” Tiffany murmured, almost certain that Jaejoong wouldn’t recognize the name.

Jaejoong’s grin just got wider. “The one who wrote an interstellar sensation at the age of fifteen. That Tiffany Hwang?”

Tiffany felt herself blush with pride and shame all at once. “Yeah, I guess.”

Without her noticing, Jaejoong and Changmin shared a look. Changmin pursed his lips and shook his head. Jaejoong ignored him.

“You don’t know?” Jaejoong retorted brightly.

“Jae . . .”

“What? I haven’t done anything – yet.” Turning his attention back to Tiffany he put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have anywhere to go right now, right?” Before Tiffany could respond, Jaejoong barreled on. “Good. Follow me and we’ll have a cup of coffee or tea or something chocolaty and you can tell me why there hasn’t been a sequel to your book.”

Tiffany heard Changmin’s quick indrawn breath.

“A book of essays wouldn’t really have a sequel, Jae.” Changmin said quickly, trying to convey something to Jaejoong through his eyes. Jaejoong blithely ignored it and started to lead Tiffany away.

“You shut up and get back to work. What do I pay you for?”

“Whatever you pay its not enough.” Changmin mumbled just loud enough to be heard.

“That’s it Changmin, just wait until we get home.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll guess I’ll see you later Tiffany.”

Tiffany twisted back to face Changmin as Jaejoong led her away. “Yeah, see you. Thank you for . . .” She lifted one hoodie clad arm and waved it at him.

“It was no problem.” Changmin said a little embarrassed, ignoring the knowing smirk Jaejoong was throwing over his shoulder.

As they walk away, Jaejoong could be heard saying, “You know I gave him this as a present? Ungrateful punk. I’m going to take it out of his wages.”

Changmin watched them go, a confusing array of emotions crossing his face. Suddenly, his phone chirped in his pocket and he fished it out. Changmin looked down at the new text.

I THINK SHE LIKES YOU. <3 JAE.

Another beep signaled the arrival of a second.

I THINK SHE’S BROKE THOUGH. SHOULD I HELP FIX HER?

Changmin sighed to himself, then text-ed back.

YOUR’E THE BOSS.

Coming Soon

This is a cover for a story I’m writing. Its a retelling of the movie ‘The Women’, only with men. Lots of men.