A/N: Dedicated to my first ever friend on wattpad Saaavn . Always got your back!

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"I was in New York for four complete years. Everything's so special about it. Have you been there before? I'm not even sure why. See? I get goosebumps. New York's that interesting. And speaking of the nicest place, Brooklyn was it. I wake before the sun and sneak to Battery Park. Trust me, it's just amazing. You get a chance to watch the gorgeous sun rise. Actually, Buffalo rise was always on my to-do list. It's incredible there, the sun peaks momentarily above the horizon and apparently clicks your sight. Not that I've been there, only heard of it..... But you see, I badly wanna watch it. It's like a never accomplished wish.........Um..Your face is simply cryptic, isn't it?"

"And, you literally are a walking walkie talkie, aren't you?" I ask, for once, looking from my lap. I've been doing a quick research on healthcare beneficiaries, and recently found out that most trusts require termly charities than annuities.

She keeps continuously chattering as I give her the list. She takes it down whilst ranting, stares at me whilst writing and sometimes the both whilst blabbering.

Most often, she gives me long and steady gazes, making me put effort into look at her, then she interlocks our fixed survey until I give her the 'What-the-hell-you-looking-at' look. Surprisedly, she sags her eye back to the list, she's been preparing. It's been recurring for about five times and I vow myself not to look at her, no matter how eye raping her stare was.

There's a teal table on one end, which is theoretically her work space, but practically she makes no use of it. I must admit, in that case, the blame comes for me. I backfired the thought my mind kept arguing, offering her chance to take a seat opposite to me. All I expected was something like, 'energetical focus'. But, the problem was I failed to guess the fact; she's over qualified of being energetic.

"Actually, sitting," she says, raising her cocky brow. I give her a questioning look, betraying my swear.

"Sitting. No walking," she answers, brushing the back of her earlobe.

I mentally smack my forehead to have replied her.

There's no use of it. You're just wasting your strength. Not even once in a blue moon, you can make her understand how irritating she is.

I roll my eyes and continue to brood over my laptop, when she starts to speak again.

"Nobody will suspect your mere education. You have brains to do IRA charities, to keep tax officers out of your way. After all, that's genius. I believe I'm settled here. Now, it hits my brain that your license won't get cancelled."

If we were surrounded by people, I'd have flashed her 'shut up' or at least turned her out, but since the two of us, I chuck a sigh muttering, "I'm really having a bad day."

"Don't worry, have ice-cream," she blabs, without looking at me.

I shake my head at it, whereas she stays with her writing like the attentive employer she was. For a second, I keep my stare locked during which she continues to write innocently. Finally getting my watch, she glances at me, then tilts her head to my lap as if signaling me to work.

Huh? Give that look, too. That's the only thing you spared me for the whole day.

I cast my glance at the clock and notice that almost half of the day is over.

No, can't happen.

I do a double take to test my speculation. Everything seemed to happen in a split of a second. I interviewed her one hour before, in the morning, but the clock says; it's quarter to four. Which means, I've spent fifty percent of my day in the hospital with a walkie talkie.

And I just even didn't know.

My eye connects to the last two names in the list. I read them out loud for my attentive employer to catch. After noting them down, she does a thumbs up at me.

"I want you to give this to the Vice President," I say looking at her. "Take a copy of it first. Be careful, take the right turn. Don't let your mind roam or your mouth prattle, as the chambers are confusing. I want it soon. Ask-"

"You want a copy of this and you want me to give the original to the vice president?" she repeats my lengthy instructions in a gibberish way.

I stay my arms crossed right before instinctively raising my brow. "So, confident aren't you? Wait till you end up in the wrong chamber!" my small creepy voice devilishly grins at me.

Before strolling to the door, she stops for her last statement, "Stop exaggerating."

Hypocrite.

I close my eyes to picture the Warning God laughing at me. "I legit warned you."

~*~

Two hours and thirty minutes.

Even though my short tempered ass waited for sheer silence, I can't believe the number of turns it took to the clock every fifteen minutes.

Has it already been half past five?

How about calling the V.P?

She wasn't out for too long.....

But it's almost six.

And the administrations are at a ten minutes distance.

As I close my lap, I'm absolutely seething by the inner voice haunting me. It stayed in my mental view until I focus my hands to the phone.

In that normal, usual, orthodox way, I try to make up my mind. "Maybe I'm just impatient that I couldn't keep up with my punctuality."

Yes, that's it. I need the papers soon.

With somewhat easiness, I dial the number Dr. Cha; the Vice President. It takes a few seconds for him to receive the other end.

"Hello, my friend Yoon. An unusual choice of time. Does it count for any urgency?" the old man chimes in his steady state voice.

Despite our huge age gap, he's been always addressing me as his friend. Ignoring my habitual cringes, he does the same and all I get as a reply to my voiced unwillingness is; 'You remind me of an old friend Jihoo. Quite a wise fellow.'

By now, I've long lost the awkward feeling, taking baby steps towards tolerance. As I come to know with time, he's nothing but a replica of my grandfather.

And people like my grandfather are not so good to be argued with.

But that doesn't bother me now.

He sounded plain, causing a jolt of confusion rush through my spine. I mean, how can a man of rush be keen enough to reply with sanity? When snapping is the only thing he do if disturbed.

That paves the way for an explanation, he hasn't received my message yet.

"Dr. Cha, I've prepared those list of beneficiaries, we allocate our profit this month and sent them through my new assistant. Hope you've received the list?"

Almost immediately, the answer came out. "What! Your assistant disappeared over the course of sending your note to me? I can't take the responsibility Yoon. You find her yourself," the old man ranted, keeping his ears off the latter part of my question.

People like my grandfather are not good to be questioned. Neither they're good for inquiries in case of emergencies.

I shoot an annoying sigh to the seat occupied by her, two hours ago, taking advantage of my interlocutor's blunt hearing range. He didn't care to an infinitesimal degree whether she vanished into thin air or not. In the words of him, 'over the course of sending your note to me?' triggers him off.

Nothing less, he could help me out.

"Nah, sir. I'll just sort it out." I reply hastily, shielding every trace of external factors that would give him a nervous breakdown.

He muttered something unclear before dismissing the phone.

Sandwiched between the Warning God and his usual threats, I pay no look at his unpalatable warnings. The dumbo I am, I stand on my feet in an attempt to look for her.

Why didn't I think of it before?

Let it be any other chambers, walkie talkie.

Except for my highly confidential one.

*Chapter 1 and 4 under edit