The summer sunbathed the city in a golden glow as you parked your car—uncomfortably close to a gleaming red Ferrari that looked like it cost more than your graduate school tuition.  

“This has to be the right place for the networking event, right?” Maria said, adjusting her sunglasses with confidence.

“I think,” you replied, swiping your hair over your shoulder and adjusted your dress, a simple but chic number that you had borrowed from Maria’s closet.

You both stood in front of the grand entrance to the estate, glancing at your respective invitations. Each card was embossed with an elaborate gold seal that read “Networking Gala – Master’s Program: Economics.”

Maria had invited you to this city to stay with her boyfriend’s family for a few weeks. His family was loaded, which was a huge contrast from yours and Maria’s own humble backgrounds – but you had to admit that they were genuinely some of the kindest people you had ever met in your life. One of the reasons you took Maria up on her invitation was because there was a job networking event out here this summer and you were on the fence about deciding whether to pursue a PhD in economics after graduation or try and get a job in the private sector.

You knew attending an event like this would introduce you to successful people that held prominent positions in their respective fields. You hated networking because it felt so transactional and fake, but you had to admit that engaging with these individuals could open doors to job opportunities.

Once inside, the opulence struck you like a wave. Lavish floral arrangements cascaded from every corner, gold and crystal glimmered under the soft lighting, and guests floated about in beautiful gowns and tailored suits. You felt woefully out of place as you swallowed hard.

You and Maria made your way to the bar, mingling with a few guests who mentioned how stunning the bride, Sarah, had looked walking down the aisle and that they were excited about the reception.

By now, you had taken in the surroundings and figured out what this was. “Oh, Maria, we’ve got to leave. This isn’t a networking thing; it’s a wedding,”

The address on the invitation must have been wrong. Or you two were idiots and didn’t fucking know how to get around this town.

She waved her hand dismissively. “We can still stick around. Just act natural. There’s like probably 400 people at this party,” Her eyes darted around the venue, taking in the extravagant decor and probably realizing that “natural” seemed miles away. “Nobody is going to notice us, and we can still ‘network’ if we want,” she winked at you.

It was then that you realized that despite the sudden chaos of crashing a wedding, maybe it wouldn’t be a total waste of a night after all.

You and Maria exchanged determined looks, and she gestured to the food table. “Let’s grab a bite and figure out our game plan before we get swallowed up by the crowd,” she said.

As you snacked, you and Maria plotted how to blend in seamlessly, devising your cover story.

“Okay,” Maria said, scooping a shrimp with her fork. “We’ll be ‘consultants’ visiting the area. We can keep it light—just play it cool,”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Play it cool? We’re hardly dressed for this crowd!”

“Details,” she waved off, her confidence infectious. “Just remember, no one here knows who we are,”

As more guests started to mingle around you, the conversation began to flow effortlessly. You listened intently while exchanging opinions with Maria and laughing softly at the absurdity of it all.

You made it halfway through the reception (and made sure to avoid the bride and groom) before you were approached by a tall, handsome man with a warm smile and tousled dark hair—a perfect mix of charming and rugged, clad in tailored suit pants and a button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up with effortless ease.

“Can I help you ladies?” he asked, with a voice that made your knees go weak. His gaze was friendly but scrutinizing.

You cleared your throat, immediately trying to channel the essence of someone who belonged. “Oh, hi,” you gave him your name. “and this is Maria. We’re friends of… Sarah…?”

The way his brows knitted together for a moment made your stomach twist.

“Sarah?” he echoed, almost suppressing a laugh right as Maria opened her big mouth.

“Yeah! You know, Jeon Sarah !” She quickly gestured toward him as if he and she were old mates.

The man’s smile grew, but confusion danced in his eyes. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, Sarah’s father.”

Your cheeks burned, and you shot a nervous glance at Maria, who looked equally flustered but was trying hard to maintain an air of nonchalance.

“Oh, wow, um, Mr. Jeon! What a lovely event you have here,” you stammered. You were shook, this man was so fucking attractive and looked far too young to have a daughter that appeared to be in her twenties.

“Jungkook, please. No need for formalities,” he said, flashing a disarming smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Glad to have y’all. So, how do y’all know Sarah?”

“We, uh… met at a conference… years ago,” you said, mentally kicking yourself for not preparing a more thought-out backstory.

“Ah, I see,” he responded, his eyes scanning the room as if looking for anyone who might come to your rescue. “Well, I hope you’re enjoying yourselves. We always love to see new faces around here.”

We?

You didn’t see a wedding ring on his left land, but you realized a man this fucking gorgeous was probably taken.

In a moment of desperation, you decided to steer the conversation. “The architecture of this home is incredible,” you said, gesturing wildly to the ornate chandeliers hanging like massive crystals in the entryway. “I mean, look at those ceilings! What year was the house built?”

Jungkook’s interest piqued, and a proud smile appeared on his face. “Thank you. It was originally constructed in the 1930’s. My granddad built it and my dad, and me and my brother sure put in a heap of hard work fixing it up. It’s a real labor of love for our family.”

A flicker of genuine admiration crossed your face as you glanced around, taking in the intricate woodwork and lush surroundings. “You must be so proud of it. It feels like I’ve stepped back in time.”

As Jungkook described the nuances of the house’s restoration, you found yourself leaning slightly closer, eager to catch every word.

“You really captured its essence. I can’t believe this is a family home,” you responded, genuinely impressed. “I mean, this place could easily be in a magazine.”

“Sure, does have its charm,” he agreed, leaning slightly closer, his voice wrapping around each word with warmth. “And the view—you should see it at sunset. Ain’t nothing quite like it.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he continued to look at you with a level of intensity that made you hyper-aware of the space between you. Maria nudged you lightly with her elbow, a playful glint in her eye and subtly shifted away, leaving you and Jungkook alone.

As the music outside the garden area shifted into a slow, melodic tune, Jungkook flashed you a smile again, the kind that made your stomach flutter with excitement. He leaned in just slightly closer. “Care to dance?”

Your heart raced at the invitation. “I’d love to, but I have to warn you, my dancing… is more about making errors than being smooth and graceful. ” You chuckled.

“I think I can handle lil errors,” he replied, extending his hand, and without thinking twice, you placed your palm in his. As you and Jungkook made your way onto the dance floor, he led you to a more spacious area where couples swayed to the music. Instinctively, you moved in close—his warmth and scent enveloping you and he pulled you into a gentle sway.

“Well now, let me get this straight,” he drawled, a smirk just dancing on his lips. “So, you and Maria just happened to waltz into my little girl’s wedding, claiming y’all know her from some fancy conference? You really think I’m gonna fall for that one?”

“Oh?” you managed, trying to brush it off, though your cheeks warmed.

“You know, crashing a weddinf is a bold move.” he said, his voice warm above the music.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you laughed nervously. “We didn’t mean to…”

“Hey there, darling, no worries at all. Ain't nobody gonna be escorting you out of here… not just yet,”, he teased, leaning in closer, his lips almost ghosting against your ear as he whispered. “The truth is I’ve noticed you for the past two hours and I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you, darling.” he said with a blush creeping up on his cheeks. 

Darling.

Your heart raced, caught off guard by his words. The music played softly in the background, “Is that so?” you replied, trying to keep your composure.

“Yes,” He winked. “So, tell me about yourself, sweetheart,”

Sweetheart. The endearment went straight to your pussy.

And so, you did. And then you turned the question to him. He ran his family business—an architecture firm. He was single, Sarah was 23 and seemed to be his whole world.

You also explained to him how you and Maria ending up here tonight was an honest mistake and then he asked you more about your degree program.

You pulled yourself together, grateful for the chance to engage in a topic that you were passionate about. “Well, I focus on behavioral economics,” you said, and as you spoke, you noticed his eyebrows lifting in interest. “Understanding how psychological factors can influence economic decisions.”

Jungkook’s gaze sharpened, and a slow smile crept across his face. “Well, ain’t that a fascinating area. It’s downright amazing how our instincts can be at odds with all that traditional economic theory.” He leaned a little closer, and you could smell the subtle hint of cologne mingled with a warm, inviting musk.

“Exactly!” you replied. “It’s like when we make choices based on emotions rather than logic. I think it’s central to crafting better policy.”

“Tell me, what are your plans after graduating?” As he asked the question, the intensity in his gaze seemed to deepen.

“I’m at a bit of a crossroads,” you admitted, your voice slightly more vulnerable than intended. “I’m considering either continuing my studies with a PhD or I’ll need to see how the job market looks after graduation. It’s... confusing.”

“It’s a tough choice, but sometimes diving into the real world can provide clarity,” Jungkook suggested, scratching his chin. “You’re young darling…. you’ll figure it out,”

You furrowed your brows and couldn’t help but bristle ever so slightly at his implication. “Young, huh?” you echoed, trying to keep the playful sarcasm at bay while raising an eyebrow. “How young do you think I am, exactly?”

Jungkook chuckled, seemingly unfazed. “I’d say early-twenties, maybe?”

A teasing smirk stretched across your face as you shook your head. “Nice try, but I’m actually a little older than that.”

His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Oh really? How much older?”

“Don’t you know it’s never polite to ask a woman her age?”

Jungkook’s smile faltered for a brief moment, caught off guard by your playful retort, but then he chuckled, clearly amused by your confidence. “Fair enough. But you should know I’m 42,” he said, tilting his head slightly as he studied your reaction.

You paused, your heart racing as you processed his age. Forty-two? It felt like a leap from the realm of dating that you were accustomed to. For a brief moment, uncertainty washed over you. But he was so fucking hot, and he held himself with a certain charm and good manners that felt refreshing. And maybe it was the alcohol you had been drinking, but then you found yourself saying something that didn’t sound like you at all.

“I think you’re sexy, Jungkook,”

The words slipped out before you could fully process them, hanging in the air between you two. Jungkook’s eyes widened slightly, and you could see the surprise blend into genuine delight on his face. A slow smile spread across his lips.

As the music transitioned to something softer, Jungko drew you even closer. “You know, no matter how you ended up stumbling here tonight, I’m really glad you did,” he said softly, his breath brushing against your cheek.

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Can I see you again after tonight?” he asked, genuinely hopeful.

“Uh, yeah, I’m still in this city for the next two weeks,” you stammered, but your heart leaped at the prospect. “I’d love to.”