Charles leaned back slowly in his chair, one hand rising to rub thoughtfully against his chin as he considered how best to continue the conversation.
The soft golden lighting of the luxury restaurant reflected faintly against his silver eyes while the untouched courses between them released curls of fragrant steam into the quiet air.
Across the table, Kaija watched him calmly over the rim of her oversized milk tea.
She had already mentally prepared herself for some absurd business proposition.
Maybe sponsorship.
Maybe a rich-man hobby project.
Maybe he wanted her to sing privately at one of his elite corporate events.
Whatever it was, she hoped he would finally say it directly instead of circling around the topic all evening.
"You must have found my request rather sudden," Charles began carefully, "but as I said earlier, I have an offer for you."
"Right." Kaija nodded once. "You did mention that."
Charles's fingers lowered from his chin.
Then, with complete seriousness, he asked:
"What would you think about quitting your current job and working for me instead?"
Kaija froze.
Completely.
Thank God she had already set her drink down moments earlier because otherwise she genuinely might have inhaled a tapioca pearl straight into her lungs.
"…Me?"
Her brows knitted together immediately.
"Working for you?"
She stared at him like he had abruptly suggested she join a cult.
"Like… how exactly?"
"KE is always looking for promising talent," Charles explained evenly. "Musical talent, specifically."
He folded his hands neatly together on the table.
"We manage many successful singers and idol groups. I assume you've heard of us."
Kaija blinked at him.
Once.
Twice.
Then realization finally struck.
Her sapphire-blue eyes widened visibly.
"Wait."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Mr. Kosonen…" Her voice dropped. "You've actually been to one of my gigs?"
"I have."
Charles answered without hesitation.
"And you were sensational."
Silence fell heavily between them.
The sounds of distant kitchen activity became strangely loud in its place.
Kaija simply stared at him.
Shock lingered openly across her beautiful face now, replacing the casual amusement she'd carried earlier during the boba tea conversation.
For a brief moment, something vulnerable flickered in her eyes.
Hope.
Disbelief.
A tiny fragile spark she clearly hadn't expected.
Because despite all her jokes and indifference—
Some part of Kaija had loved singing.
Charles noticed it instantly.
And he also noticed the exact second that spark died.
The emotion drained from her expression almost as quickly as it had appeared. Her shoulders relaxed back into indifference while her face flattened into calm disinterest.
"Listen, Mr. Kosonen," Kaija said finally, her voice cool and practical, "those gigs were never meant to be anything serious."
She rested her chin lightly against one hand.
"I only sang to help cover my living expenses during college. And because it was fun."
A faint shrug followed.
"My mom always said my voice was average at best anyway."
Charles frowned faintly.
Average?
That voice?
Impossible.
Meanwhile Kaija continued calmly, entirely unaware that Charles internally wanted to argue with her mother.
"And honestly," she added, "I have absolutely no desire to compete in the entertainment industry."
Her lips curved faintly—not quite bitter, not quite amused.
"I've seen enough celebrities online to know I'd never survive in that environment."
She gestured lazily toward him.
"Everyone there is ridiculously beautiful, ridiculously talented, ridiculously competitive…"
Her gaze lowered briefly toward her drink.
"I'm just a flight attendant who sings sometimes."
Charles studied her quietly.
Something about the way she dismissed herself bothered him unexpectedly.
Not false modesty.
Not fishing for compliments.
She genuinely believed it.
Worse—
She seemed comfortable believing it.
"I appreciate your high opinion of me," Kaija concluded politely, "but I'm afraid I'll have to decline your offer."
Charles's faint smile disappeared.
Decline?
Just like that?
He had expected hesitation perhaps.
Shock, certainly.
Maybe even cautious excitement.
But outright rejection?
That was… new.
Very new.
Charles Kosonen had spent ten years building KE into one of the most powerful entertainment companies in Country S. Artists practically destroyed themselves trying to get signed under his label.
People begged for opportunities there.
Fought for them.
Yet Kaija Sepala had just casually turned him down between sips of milk tea.
Why?
Charles found himself strangely unsettled by how little interest she showed.
Was it truly lack of ambition?
Fear?
Or did she simply not trust him?
The latter possibility irritated him far more than it should have.
Still, pushing harder now would likely ruin everything.
Charles understood negotiation well enough to recognize resistance when he saw it.
So instead, he picked up his absurdly overloaded boba tea again.
"Perhaps we should forget the topic for now," he said calmly. "And simply enjoy dinner."
Kaija immediately nodded.
"Ah, yeah. Of course."
She took another cheerful sip of her drink as though rejecting a billionaire entertainment CEO was the most ordinary thing in the world.
The rest of dinner passed beneath an awkward quietness neither fully knew how to navigate.
Kaija focused mostly on eating the braised duck.
Charles focused mostly on drinking the milk tea.
An unreasonable amount of milk tea.
At some point Kaija caught him carefully scooping red beans through the straw with visible fascination again.
'He really likes that thing,' she thought with disbelief.
It was honestly difficult reconciling this strangely curious man with the cold billionaire everyone feared onboard flights.
Meanwhile across the table, Charles was thinking far more strategically.
'Don't push her tonight.'
The disinterest in her voice earlier had been genuine.
If he pressured her now, she might avoid him entirely afterward.
No.
Better to proceed carefully.
Learn her preferences.
Earn her trust gradually.
Then change her mind later.
Because despite her rejection—
Charles had absolutely no intention of giving up.
When dinner finally ended, he walked Kaija out personally toward the grand hotel entrance.
The silence between them remained somewhat uncomfortable now, though not hostile.
Just… uncertain.
Outside, cool night air brushed against their skin while city lights glittered endlessly across the streets below.
The limousine would arrive shortly.
Standing beside her beneath the glowing hotel lights, Charles suddenly reached into his pocket for a cigarette.
"Would you mind if I smoke?" he asked.
Kaija shrugged lightly.
"I don't mind. My boyfriend smokes all the time."
The moment the word boyfriend entered the air again, that familiar sour feeling twisted sharply inside Charles's chest.
Annoying.
He hated how often that man occupied her life.
Even hearing about him irritated Charles irrationally.
Still, his expression remained unreadable as he lit the cigarette smoothly.
Technically, Kaija no longer even had a boyfriend.
But considering she'd just rejected his offer and would probably never see him again after this—
Explaining her breakup felt unnecessary.
Smoke curled slowly from Charles's lips into the night air.
"Would your boyfriend mind," he asked casually, "if he learned you had dinner alone with me tonight?"
"I don't think he would," Kaija replied with a small shrug.
Then her gaze shifted toward him thoughtfully.
"Would your girlfriend mind?"
Charles nearly stiffened visibly.
The cigarette paused between his fingers.
"I believe you're mistaken," he replied flatly. "I'm not currently in a relationship."
Kaija blinked.
"Oh."
A tiny awkwardness crossed her face.
"Sorry." She glanced away briefly. "Whenever I see articles about you, there's always some model or actress beside you."
Charles nearly scoffed.
Of course.
The irony was almost offensive.
He owned one of the largest media empires in the country, yet even he couldn't escape ridiculous gossip articles about his love life.
"What else do the news outlets say about me?" he asked dryly before taking another drag.
Kaija thought for a moment.
"Well…"
Her lips twitched faintly.
"They usually call you one of the country's most sought-after bachelors."
Charles said nothing.
"You're rich, successful, thirty-eight, unmarried…"
Another pause.
"Some articles say your standards are impossibly high."
Charles's eye twitched faintly.
"Others say you enjoy being single too much to settle down."
Now both his eyes twitched internally.
Fantastic.
Apparently his public image was far worse than he initially thought.
After a long exhale of smoke, Charles turned toward her fully.
"Ms. Sepala."
Kaija looked up.
"Will you be working Flight STAR420 next Monday?"
She blinked in surprise before immediately pulling out her phone to check the crew schedule.
"Yes," she confirmed after a moment. "I will."
Then she frowned slightly.
"Why?"
Charles stepped closer toward her.
Not enough to invade her space.
Just enough for his presence to feel deliberate.
"When I see you on that flight," he said quietly, "I hope you'll change your mind."
Kaija stared at him.
Before she could respond, headlights swept across the hotel entrance.
The limousine had arrived.
Perfect timing.
"Goodbye, Mr. Kosonen," she said politely.
Then she slipped inside the vehicle without another glance back.
The limousine doors closed.
And moments later, the car disappeared down the city streets carrying her away.
Charles remained standing exactly where she left him.
The cigarette glowed faintly between his fingers as he watched the taillights vanish into the night.
Slowly, he exhaled another stream of white smoke into the cold evening air.
Five months searching.
One dinner.
Two rejections.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Then, at last, a slow mischievous smirk curled across his lips.
If subtle persuasion failed—
Perhaps a more memorable approach was necessary.
Charles pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory.
The line connected almost immediately.
"Boss?" came the voice on the other end.
Charles took another slow drag before speaking.
"Listen carefully," he said smoothly. "There's a little performance I want arranged."
A pause.
"What kind of performance?"
Charles's silver eyes gleamed beneath the city lights.
"One involving an emergency exit," he murmured.
The smirk deepened.
"And possibly causing an airline a very tiny amount of damage."