Ian marched back to his desk, feeling a rare wave of self-satisfaction. He sorted a few papers and stretched, his spine letting out a loud pop that reminded him he was definitely not twenty-one anymore.
He scribbled a few reminders on a Post-it, then groaned. He still had to call that one investor. The one he'd canceled on a million times.
Ian was already practicing his best, most pathetic apology voice when a passing coworker dropped three thick new folders onto his desk.
"For the CEO," the coworker murmured, fleeing immediately for fear that Ian might come after him.
Ian stared at the pile. His patience, which was already microscopic, vanished. He took a quick trip to the restroom, splashed freezing water on his face to stop himself from crying, and sat back down to face the nightmare.
Through the glass office wall, Winston was giving him massive puppy-dog eyes. The intercom buzzed.
"Ian," Winston whined. "I don't want to talk about numbers with an old, close-minded man. Make it go away."
Ian didn't even use the intercom to reply. He just glared through the glass with pure, unadulterated malice. Winston rolled his eyes, thoroughly intimidated, and slowly began signing the documents, pouting at Ian the entire time.
'Keep looking at me like that and I'm switching your regular coffee to decaf.' Ian thought, packing up his planner. He needed to head down to the marketing floor before calling it a day.
As he left, he saw Winston practically bouncing in his seat while taking a phone call, laughing hysterically.
When Winston caught Ian looking, he quickly shushed him and waved a hand as if to say, "Go away, I'm doing secret best-friend stuff."
Ian was creeped out.
'Who is he making those stupid faces for? If a normal person had to deal with his personality in real life, they'd sue for emotional distress.'
Down on the marketing floor, things were a bureaucratic disaster over an emergency celebrity budget allocation. But the chaos ground to a halt when Ian stepped into the room.
Everybody turned to look at him as if an angel had been sent to bring them salvation. One employee was already crying while sniffing aggressively.
Discussing the matter only made Ian more stressed because, this time, the issue seemed almost unresolvable even to him, which started to make him uneasy.
"We'll have to cut the budget at this point. I don't think that we can actually find it in a matter of da—"
"Actually, the funding isn't an issue anymore," an intern, who had just returned to the office, said while casually sipping coffee. "The Davenports are increasing their investment."
"Excuse me?" Ian stepped forward.
"Oh! Secretary Ian!" The intern gulped. "Yeah, some incredibly important—and honestly, devastatingly hot guy just went straight up to the boss's office. Winston smacked his back like they were old buddies. Word is, he's the new Davenport heir."
Ian massaged his temples, wondering if firing an intern counted as a crime. "And why am I, the executive assistant, just hearing about this?"
"Well... he came without notice, and they also looked really close," another employee added.
"Winston Sterling? Close with an investor?" Ian scoffed. "The man barely tolerates boring, budget-related interactions."
"No, really! He was young. And so handsome..." The intern actually blushed.
Before Ian could process this, a nearby employee chimed in. "Do you think they're dating? Is the new heir an omega?"
"An omega that sturdy and big? He is definitely an Alpha."
"Why does he have to be an omega or an Alpha? Betas can be hot too."
"True! Look at Secretary Ian. He's an omega, but the boss hasn't even looked at—"
Ian grabbed the employee by the hair, tilting their head back just enough to look them dead in the eye. He plastered on a terrifying, blindingly bright corporate smile.
"Let's stop discussing people's secondary genders in the workplace," he said, staring aggressively. "Please."
"..."
"O-okay..."
Ian let go and checked his phone. He had sent a few messages, but Winston still hadn't answered his texts.
'I swear to God, if this turns into a repeat of that disaster in Spain where we risked the company's future because Winston was in a silly mood, I am suing him for emotional damage.'
He took the elevator back up, marching at a furious pace. Reaching the CEO's doors, he hesitated.
Should he burst in and save Winston from making a fool of himself, or leave them to it?
"No, I don't get paid enough to witness his love life. I'll just wait—"
The door suddenly flew open. Ian, caught off guard, stumbled backward, preparing his soul for a painful impact with the floor.
The impact never came.
A pair of strong arms caught him by the waist, locking him in place.
A few seconds passed and then, "If you're alright, then stand—"
The man holding him froze the moment he looked down.
Ian opened both eyes and found himself staring directly into a very handsome, very familiar face.
'Wait.'
Ian was looking directly into two sapphire blue eyes.
'Oh, no.'
'OH, DEAR GOD, NO WAY!'
If Ian's face was a picture of shock, the face of the man in front of him wasn't any better.
He looked at Ian first with a confused glare, then with total disbelief, and finally with an imperceptible look that sent a chill running straight down Ian's spine.
Winston popped his head out right behind them, completely oblivious to the romantic-comedy pose they were stuck in.
"Ian! Did you trip? Oh, perfect timing!" He rushed beside them.
Hearing Winston's voice, the man immediately let go of Ian. After tidying his clothes he crossed his arms tightly. He stared down at the assistant, his expression hardening into pure ice as he remained thoroughly unamused and unfazed by Winston's remarks, not moving an inch from his defensive stance.
"Ian, meet Keith Davenport, the new representative for our main investors!"
"The... what?" Ian's neck snapped toward Winston so fast it nearly cracked.
Keith didn't move an inch, still giving Ian a searing look.
And Ian could easily guess why Keith looked so rigid.
After all, nobody would be happy to run into the person they'd had a wild one-night stand with.
Especially when that person had snuck out of the hotel room at 4:00 AM without leaving a note.
"Hahaha! I have a feeling the three of us are going to have so much fun working together!" Winston beamed, practically radiating joy.
'I am going to be entirely bald by Friday,' Ian thought, staring blankly into the abyss.