FML

“Why me?” I whined at my boss.

Suzuki, the imperious bitch that she was, only grinned sweetly as she folded another shirt with practiced ease. “Because Mr. Kong owns half of the businesses in Gangnam district, including this shop. Because he's our best customer. Because his nephew is from America - like you - and you're the only one who speaks perfect English. Take your pick of the reasons. But none of the reasons changes the fact that Mr. Xiao Frost has been in the dressing room trying to shimmy out of those pants for the last ten minutes and nothing has worked. So, if you want to keep your job, you can march yourself into the dressing room and help him unstick the zipper of his pants. Now.” God, if I didn't need this job so much…

“Fine! But if he tries anything funny, I don't care who he is, I'm suing him and this store for sexual harassment.” With that threat hanging in the air, I turned from the mannequin I'd been dressing up for the front display of the upscale boutique I worked at and walked quickly to the back rooms. There was no point delaying the inevitable, though I couldn't help but curse God, Fate, Seoul, and faulty pants in general as I moved with purpose. My day was going so well up to now! I was able to complete my nursing shift at the hospital without any deaths or other major issues before catching the early bus to my second job. Because I caught the early bus, I was able to get in line at my favorite coffee shop before the usual afternoon rush and get my caffeine fix without issue. Caramel macchiato with a side of no loud mouthed Korean idiots asking for my number. For once.

I knew objectively that I was attractive. Smooth, hazelnut skin and long braids that I religiously kept in a stately bun when out of the house. People often commented on my bright friendly smile and my command of the Korean language. After two years in the country, I was finally able to keep up with the slang my proper language hadn't picked up on.

“Sir, I'm here to help you with your pants. I'm coming in.” I said in English, knocking professionally and walking in. Delaying would only increase the awkwardness of the situation. Xiao was standing by the mirror and I swear my heart stopped beating for a moment at the sight of him. The man was gorgeous in that playful, boy-next-door type of way. His shoulder-length hair was wavy in a way that made me blush with the urge to run my fingers through it. And those eyes… God those eyes! The dark depths of them could lead a good girl to do very bad things. I was flummoxed for a long minute; when had my boss set the thermostat to ‘Hell’?

Shaking off my stupor, I addressed the demigod in the small room. “I'm going to have to get down on my knees with a flashlight to see the problem, sir. Is that okay?”

“I hope that's not a reference to my size,” he quipped playfully, stepping back to allow me into the space. My entire body flushed, but I got to work, pulling out my penlight and dropping to my knees. This was so embarrassing! What a compromising position this is, I thought sarcastically as I angled the light to see the problem. He shifted and I looked up at him in annoyance.

“Sir, if you can remain still, this will be much easier.” The heat in those Obsidian eyes made my blush deepen, but I held his gaze in warning before returning to my task. “I can see the problem. It seems some threads from your boxers are caught in the zipper. I can--Are you fucking kidding me right now!” His bulge, already impressive, had pulsed to life as I explained the situation. “Sir, this is embarrassing enough without… That. Calm down, please.”

“Trust me, Miss. This isn't what I signed up for. I was just trying to follow my uncle's instructions and buy new clothes without holes in them!” I sighed. Maybe this was a bad day for him too. “Besides, how am I supposed to calm down when a gorgeous woman is kneeling in front of me, about to put her hands near my-”

“Finish that sentence and I'm leaving. And the next person you'll see is the big, burly security guard, Laslo.” Silence. Then laughter. Surprised but genuine.

“You're unbelievable! What's your name?”

“Deelia. Are you ready? The floor is cold and I'd like to get up as soon as possible.” I started gently pulling at the loose threads on his under the zipper. “Damnit… The threads are really stuck… The one day I left my tweezers at home…” Without thinking, I leaned forward, using my teeth on the stubborn last thread. I was shocked out of my running commentary when his junk pulsed against my nose. “Gah!”

“Sorry! Your breath. It's really warm.” I glared at him, my face a four-alarm fire. Then I went back to my task. Ironically, the bulging was giving me the space I needed to wiggle the treacherous thread loose. Though I'd never admit that to him.

“There! Got it! You're free!” I demonstrated by whipping the zipper down for him. Xiao let out a torturous breath. “Maybe try boxer briefs next time,” I told him cheekily. I left him stranded in the dressing room after that, returning to my actual job. I was tempted to splash my fiery cheeks with cold water in the bathroom, but that felt like admitting defeat.

“Have fun in the dressing room?” My coworker and best friend laughed in Korean as she passed by.

“Whitney!” I gasped with a shocked little laugh. Her Korean features were perfect. I sometimes found myself hating her for how beautiful she was. Then I remembered what my own beauty had cost me back in America and suddenly I wasn't so jealous.

“I'm sorry,” she grinned, not sounding sorry at all. “It's just… Xiao Frost is ridiculously hot. To be stuck in the dressing room with him, alone… you are so lucky!”

“Yeah. Because nothing says ‘blessed one’ like kneeling on the cold, hard floor, pulling the fraying threads of a pair of old boxers out of a zipper with my teeth.”

“You used your teeth?” she asked in disbelief. “You are so dedicated! How big was it?”

Xiao appeared at the register before I could figure out how to answer the question and keep my dignity intact. In truth, I wanted to gush. The man was so well endowed! But I had the feeling that saying so would get me fired.

“Deelia, I'd like ten pairs of these pants,” the man said firmly.

“They're $800 a piece,” I deadpanned. His smile was slow and devastatingly sexy.

“I know. I had time to look at the tag while I was stuck.” My head spun. You would think I'd be used to exorbitant prices after working at this side hustle for so long, but somehow this seemed excessive. I quickly rang up his purchase before he changed his mind, accepting his black card and blinking at the ‘no limit’ flag that came up on the computer.

“Why would you-”

“I'd like to take you to dinner.” The phrasing let me know that he wouldn't be taking ‘no’ for an answer. Suddenly, I was angry.

“No, thank you. I don't date customers.” I was quickly discovering that his smile was my kryptonite.

“Please. You helped me out of an embarrassing situation with my dignity intact. Please allow me to take you to dinner tonight to show you my gratitude.”

I hesitated. When he put it like that… “Ugh, fine.” He ignored the petulance in my tone.

“Great. I'll be back after your shift to pick you up.” He left the boutique after that, leaving Whitney and I speechless.

“Girl, he's serious about you.”

“This is ridiculous! I've been up since 5 this morning. I could fall asleep right where I'm standing! Now I'm supposed to entertain some spoiled, likely entitled, definitely rich guy all night? I have to work tomorrow!”

Whitney shrugged her perfect porcelain shoulders and got back to work under Suzuki's glare. I started shaking as I finished my previously abandoned mannequin.

“Oh fuck my life,” I muttered under my breath, picturing my zombie state when I got to work tomorrow.