Between 29th and Astoria: The Appetizer
Chapter 5
It was always the same story after a night of hard drinking - waking up with regret, plotting your own death, and revisiting misdemeanors committed under the influence of alcohol. To make matters worse, you had fallen asleep on the commute resulting in missing your stop. By the time you went above ground, back down on the other side, and hopped on the right train - you were hopelessly late.
Not only that, but you had been drunk enough to make stupid life decisions such as feel up your freaking boss, but not blitzed enough to have forgotten what had happened. You stepped off the executive elevator and onto the forty-fifth floor completely ready to die of embarrassment.
Only, you didn’t.
Ren’s door was closed, but you heard gentle murmuring behind the glass. His morning conference call must have begun earlier than scheduled. At least that took care of any awkward A.M. confrontations. If you had any doubts that your job was on the line though, they were immediately cleared as you stepped up to your little glass fortress.
Sitting neatly in the center right between your monitor and keyboard was a cup of coffee. A sticky note was stuck to the sleeve with two sentences scrawled in surprisingly beautiful penmanship.
“May I suggest a different addictive substance? Perhaps one that won’t kill you?”
The smell of hazelnut and spice wafted up from the lid, enveloping the area with a warm scent. The caramel liquid inside was still hot, and burned deliciously as it was consumed. Seeing that he bought you coffee, perhaps Kylo’s hypocrisy regarding smoking could be ignored. For now at least. You reclined into the leather seat underneath and began your typical morning rituals.
The computer fired on with a half-hearted beep. Next, physical memos were sorted as the screen slowly loaded. Some papers were shuffled into the trash. Others were filed away for later use, and a select few were organized into a folder to hand off to Mr. Ren. As soon as the monitor pinged to life, e-mails were next on the list. Similar to the memos, you organized and sorted the digital mail. Once in a while, you’d be interrupted by a phone call.
Most of the time it was a frantic Mitaka in search of one thing or another for Hux. The poor man was clearly stretched far too thin, and you always spent the latter half of your conversations giving the assistant a pep talk. By the time everything was catalogued and dealt with, it was usually lunch. That was almost always taken alone at your desk. First Order certainly didn’t encourage friendships, that much was for sure. If you were lucky and Mr. Ren had an outside appointment during the hour, you were able to eat elsewhere. Even then it wasn’t very exciting. You’d usually just grab a sorry excuse for a salad from Hale & Hearty, and eat it in the break room.
Today was different though. Twelve o’ clock struck, and Mr. Ren emerged from his office. Dark hair coiffed backwards, he slowly ambled towards your desk. Your name slid from his lips like oil and you looked up in surprise.
“Mr. Ren! I thought you had a lunch appointment today.”
He tapped his fingers along the smooth surface of your desk and nodded. Reaching over, he plucked your purse hanging from the back of the chair. Smiling, the man responded, “Yes, I do. You’re my appointment.”
You mouth slackened in surprise, and Kylo smirked at your reaction, filing away the image along with others he had collected over time. Twirling the leather strap of your bag in one hand, he turned on his heel and marched over to the elevator. You immediately jumped up from your chair and hurried a step behind the man.
He brought you to a swanky restaurant somewhere uptown. Just like at the club last night, you felt incredibly out of place. It was the type of establishment you’d only read about in magazines alongside the words “so-and-so celebrity spotted at”. It certainly wasn’t the kind of venue a failed photographer turned personal assistant ate at. And it definitely wasn’t the kind of place a boss should be taking his assistant just for kicks.
Regardless, Kylo still placed a warm palm on your lower back and ushered you through the large doors and into a marble waiting area. The hostess immediately recognized the raven-haired CEO and lead the way to a private dining area secluded in the back.
The lithe blonde’s eyes darted between the two of you and then to Kylo’s hands before asking, “Mr. Ren, would you like me to check your - uh - friend’s bag?”
Oh my God. Kylo Ren was still holding your purse.
Your face colored in embarrassment as you thought about how this woman probably checked Birkins worth six figures. Your little flea market find of cracked leather definitely had no business being checked anywhere. Panicking, you snatched the purse away from your boss and awkwardly tittered that you’d be fine holding onto the handbag.
Did the woman just give you a look of sympathy?
If she kept up that attitude, you’d give her something to be sympathetic about. Your eyes squinted ever so slightly, and Ren let out a snort. He waved the hostess away and pulled out your chair before settling in across the table.
“If you’re ashamed of your purse, you could always buy a new one.”
“Excuse me?! Just because I don’t enjoy being judged, doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of my purse! And what do you expect me to do? Go out and buy a Chanel with the zero dollars in my savings account?”
Kylo’s head tilted backwards as he chuckled, “You looked ready to choke the hostess with your mind.”
“My purse has character. Something she wouldn’t understand,” you pouted.
“Yes. I’m just finding out about how much character you possess.”
Heat spread across your cheeks and your face bloomed pink at your boss’s teasing. Fiddling with the hem of the tablecloth you whispered, “I’m so sorry about last night, Mr. Ren.” He dismissed your apology with a wave of his hand and chortled, “I’ve seen Phasma do worse on a better night. Don’t worry about it.” He slowly drank in the sight of your flushed skin and the way your lashes shyly fluttered at his words. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.
Thankfully the waiter arrived, and provided some relief as he went over the tasting menu. Who on earth ate five courses at twelve thirty in the afternoon?
Apparently, Kylo Ren did. The man didn’t even flinch as the waiter rattled off various dishes and accompaniments. You blushed again as Mr. Ren ordered a whiskey neat for himself and a gin and tonic for yourself. He ignored your protests that it was too early to drink, and opted to lean back and watch your fruitless objections with mirth.
“Are you done?”
Your ears turned red, and Kylo grinned with his full set of teeth. He was beginning to discover a new hobby - making his assistant blush. Once again, the waiter came to the rescue as he set down a white oval porcelain dish with two oysters perched atop a hill of ice with caviar scattered about. Ren expertly fed himself the appetizer and watched you struggle in amusement. Compared to Ren’s effortless elegance, you looked like a pelican choking down sardines.
He quietly placed a palm on the table and asked, “So, tell me about yourself. What do you do after work?”
An eyebrow raised on its own as you studied Mr. Ren with some suspicion. Just a few days ago, this man was one missed memo away from flipping over your desk and booting you out the door. Now he wanted to know what you did for fun? As if sensing your apprehension, Kylo teased, “Isn’t this what friends do? Get to know each other?”
The memory of Kylo’s massive hands gripping your slight wrists was enough to make you gag on your drink. Were gin and tonics always this difficult to stomach?
Clearing your throat and wiping the edges of your lips, you replied, “Well. Honestly, I go to work so early and stay so late...there isn’t really much time for me to do anything. My friends are pretty understanding though, so we spend most of our time at my apartment or theirs. We - uh - you know, talk. Sometimes we play board games or just watch Netflix. We do other things together, too.”
Kylo arched a brow and joked, “You do ‘other things’ with your friends? How conveniently vague.”
Coughing again, you sputtered, “No! No. I mean, we’re all single, but we don’t - you know - do weird things. Uhm, Rose is a mechanic and she works on these crazy fancy private planes that come in and out of the city. Sometimes her clients invite her to cool things, and I’ll get to tag along. Poe has a really sweet job, and he’ll hook us up with tickets to events, too. And, uhm, Finn also works at Poe’s company, but only part time. But he’s trying really hard to be an actor and he just wrapped up a really great show. We’ll go see him in different performances, and it’s really fun!”
Kylo ran his bottom lip along the edge of his glass as he took in your response. The name “Poe” sounded oddly familiar to him. It was a rather archaic sounding name that not many in your age group had. He’d have to look into that later, rather preferring to settle on one key fact he was surprisingly happy to learn - you were single.
“What about you, Mr. Ren? Do you have any hobbies? Or - uhm - date?”
You were going to be the death of him. If he could die via cuteness, he would choose you every time. He watched your throat bob as you swallowed, almost as if you wished you could push the words back down. He thought for a moment: no, what he did with the fairer sex certainly wouldn’t be considered dating. As for hobbies?
“Sure. I enjoy calligraphy. It’s a nice marriage of art and the written form. I also like taking my cars out to the speedway from time-to-time. As for dating? No. I wouldn’t say I have the time to date...per se.”
You nodded along, thinking the entire time that Mr. Ren sounded lightyears above you. Of course someone like him wouldn’t play fucking Cranium in his free time. You continued to eat and chat until the meal wrapped up. Kylo was even suave enough to take care of the check while he got up to use the restroom, saving you the embarrassment of having to act like you could even afford to split the $700 bill.
Walking out the door, you stopped to turn to the man. Rocking a bit on your heels, you meekly murmured, “Thank you, Mr. Ren...”
“What was that, little mouse? I didn’t quite catch that.” A quirk of his lip indicated that he was teasing you again.
Clearing your throat, you spoke up, “Thank you, Mr. Ren. For the meal. And the conversation. I - uh - quite enjoyed spending time with you.”
He gave you a warm smile. The most genuine one you have yet to witness. He carefully patted your back - high enough to be professional, but low enough to leave you confused.
Looking up into the sky, he replied, “I’m glad. Perhaps we could making spending time together a habit.”