It was another brisk Monday morning in Manhattan. Madison Torres clutched her coffee as she stepped into the sleek glass tower of Weston & Grey Consulting, heels clicking on marble.
Everyone around her scurried nervously, whispering about him.
As always.
Nicholas Grey, CEO, terror of Wall Street, and her boss.
She smirked faintly.
Everyone feared him.
Except her.
.
.
Nicholas Grey (ML)
(Tapping his pen impatiently) Madison. You’re late. Again.
Madison Torres (FL)
(Setting her coffee down on his desk) It’s 8:58.
Madison Torres (FL)
I’m two minutes early. You’re just… impossible.
Nicholas Grey (ML)
(Tilting his head with a sharp glare) Excuse me?
Madison Torres (FL)
(Shrugging) Oh, don’t give me that look.
Madison Torres (FL)
I brought you black coffee. Two sugars. You’re welcome.
Nicholas Grey (ML)
(Staring at her, sighs) Hmph. At least you know how to make it right.
Madison Torres (FL)
(Sits, flipping open her tablet) Good morning to you too, Mr. Grey.
Nicholas Grey (ML)
(Deadpan) It was… until you walked in.
Madison Torres (FL)
(Grins) Liar. You’d miss me if I quit.
Nicholas Grey (ML)
(Quiet, glances up) Don’t even joke about that.
Her friends always asked why she stayed in this job. Why did she put up with a man who could freeze hell with his glare.
Maybe because, deep down, she could see a little crack in his cold armor every time he looked at her.
And maybe, just maybe… she liked being his favorite distraction.
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