Not mine—because I wouldn’t dare to even imagine a boss who’s tall, handsome, and loaded.
“Oh, thank you.”
The boss took the kid, hoisted her onto his shoulder in one motion, and strode into his office.
“Bang.”
The door shut right in front of me.
Uh… I came to hand in a proposal, and now the boss is wearing his cold face and has an unknown child with him—should I knock?
If I don’t knock, the proposal’s late, I’ll get chewed out by the team lead and the director, and finally yelled at by the boss.
If I do knock, the boss is in a bad mood, he knows the child’s secret now, and I’ll still get yelled at.
Before I could finish agonizing, a light blinked—the door opened.
“Anything?”
The boss’s face was expressionless.
“This is our team’s proposal.”
I handed it over with both hands.
He took it, said, “You can go.”
Then—“Bang”—the door shut again.
I sighed in relief and turned to see a huge red dot across from his office.
Security camera.
So that’s how the boss knew I’d been outside the door. Oh no, all my dramatic chest-thumping was under his control.
Humiliated in front of the boss.
I left the executive wing and returned to our massive, not-at-all-private open-plan workspace… oh, sorry, the “open-concept collaborative environment.”
“Maggie, the boss has a kid!?”
Sophie slid her chair over and showed me the photo the work group was buzzing about.
Of course, there’s no boss-only chat.
Still, the boss walked from downstairs back to his office with everyone watching—this had already become company-wide news.
“Probably… yes.”
I nodded solemnly.
“Wahhh,” Sophie pretended to cry into her hands. “My plan to marry into a wealthy family is over before it even began.”
I looked around. Everyone was talking gossip.
It wasn’t that I had particularly good hearing—half the unmarried women in this company looked like they’d had the wind knocked out of them.
In our big tech company branch, one of our biggest competitive advantages is the boss’s face.
Same work, but if a handsome guy is watching your productivity every day, output goes way up.
And moods are better, too.
But a handsome guy with a cold face is terrifying.
We don’t work hard out of crushes—we work out of fear.
A couple years ago a popular influencer used to work here; she took some casual shots and sent the boss into viral fame. Rumor has it he wasn’t happy about that, and she left before I started.
So yeah—he’s a good-looking grim reaper who could fire us at any second.
“Maggie, the boss wants your team to revise the proposal.”
The boss’s secretary came over.
Our boss’s secretary is male.
That had led us to wonder about the boss’s preferences, but today that doubt could be dismissed.
I checked my phone—only ten minutes had passed. They’d already gone through our forty-some-page proposal?
“How did he look?”
Sophie winked.
“Doesn’t he always have a cold face?” the secretary shrugged.
“Andy, go!”
Sophie pointed at our other teammate Andy, a fresh grad—fair-skinned, polite.
“Maggie, you go!”
Andy pointed at me.
“Sophie, you go!”
I pointed at Sophie.
They rubbed their hands. “Old rules…”
“Rock-paper-scissors!”
“Rock-paper-scissors!”
“Yeah!”
Andy and Sophie flashed scissors.
I held out my hand in a flat palm—defeated.
“Go Maggie! You can do it!”
Sophie pumped a fist and made a cheering gesture.
I can do it. I got this. I’m the best.
I walked to the boss’s office and knocked.
“Come in.”
As soon as I pushed the door, a little kid clung to my leg.
I instinctively patted her head. She looked up at me and opened her mouth: “Mommy.”
???
Why is this three-year-old calling everyone mommy?
The boss said, “Lily, go sit back down.”
“I want Mommy… waah…”
“Three, two…”
The boss’s look was terrifying.
Lily sniffled and obediently sat on the small stool by the window.
Wow—so he’s like this even with his own child.
Poor kid.
“Boss, how should we revise our proposal?”
“It’s marked up. Make the changes and send it to the client.”
“Okay, boss.”
I flipped through it—blue and red marks, additions and cuts, all clear.
No wonder—handsome and talented. Too bad he married young… I was about to leave when I realized I couldn’t move.
Looking down, the little girl was clinging to me. “Are you my mommy?”
“Lily, come back.”
I froze.
The boss’s child didn’t have a mom?
Sorry—I didn’t shout, but really, the kid was randomly claiming me.
“Anything else?”
The boss looked at me.
“Goodbye, boss!”
I bolted back to my desk.
Sophie saw me out of breath. “Maggie, did you run into a ghost in broad daylight?”
“The boss’s kid has no mom.”
“No, the boss is scary, but why would you take it out on a kid?”
“I didn’t! The kid just looked at me and called me her mommy.”
I explained.
Sophie slapped her thigh. “Is this one of those domineering CEO wife-and-child abandonments? Like, she takes the child and runs?”
“You mean she ran off with the kid?” Andy scoffed.
“You don’t get it—there are plots where the CEO mistreats the heroine, she has his child and then runs away, and later there’s a dramatic chasing-down-the-wife arc.”
Sophie offered a mini-lecture.
“Stop speculating—revise the proposal!”
I split the proposal into three stacks and opened my laptop.
Andy sighed. “Boss tortures me a hundred ways, and the proposal still needs revising.”
Thanks, boss—if it weren’t for his detailed notes, we’d have finished ages ago.
Nope—this revision session went until quitting time.
An entire afternoon wasted!
Send to the client: done. Time to go home.
When the boss strode out, people began packing up. The best thing about our company is that the boss leads by example—everyone leaves on time; no toxic overtime culture.
Suddenly, a small shadow shot into our workspace and wrapped around my leg.
“Mommy.”
Lily looked up at me with a pitiful face.
“Mommy?” Andy echoed.
“Mommy!” Sophie stared at me in disbelief.
I glanced up—everybody’s eyes were wide.
No way—my twenty-five-year-old purity is ruined!
The boss walked toward us with Lily in his arms, took two steps, then turned back. “Maggie, come with me.”
Is he not going to explain? He wants me to follow him?
I stared. He added, “Any problems?”
“N-no problems.” I grabbed my bag and hurried after him.
“You all can go home.”
He left that line behind as he and the child walked away.
As if anyone could actually leave—we spent the next hour tearing this apart in whispers, digging for every detail.
I trailed miserably behind the boss to the underground parking garage.
“Get in.”
The driver opened the car. I sat in the passenger seat; the boss and the little one sat in the back.
This car is really something. The boss is really something… Wait, how did I end up in the car?
“Ethan Blake, do you want my cheese stick?”
Of course the boss’s kid could call him by name. But cheese stick?
I watched in the rearview as Lily dug in her little bag and pulled out a cheese stick.
The boss shook his head—so cold.
Noticing I was watching, Lily waved the cheese stick and asked, “Mommy, do you want some?”
I almost choked on my own spit. The driver looked like he was watching a show.
“Sweetie, my name is Maggie.”
Lily licked her lips. “Maggie-mommy.”
“No, Maggie-sister,” I corrected.
Suddenly the boss spoke: “Auntie doesn’t eat. Sit properly.”
Auntie?
Auntie?
I’m only twenty-five, and I just got called “auntie”?
If he weren’t my boss, I would have had words. But Maggie—be patient. You need his paycheck.
I opened my phone. The work group was oddly quiet—different from how I expected.
Only Sophie had messaged.
“Maggie, you didn’t actually have a baby with the boss, did you?”
“His kid is just calling people! Are you kidding me?”
I typed fast—this isn’t a joke; I needed to clear it up.
“They made a new group since the old one’s too risky.”
Ah—so that’s why the chat was quiet. I’d been isolated.
“What’s in the new group?”
“You’ve been promoted to the blocked boss’s-wife status.”
I opened the social feed. Sure enough—except for Sophie and Andy, nobody could see my posts.
“You have to clear my name!”
“They’re already sharing photos of you in the boss’s car.”
Well, no saving this one.
I sighed and locked my phone.
The car stopped in another underground lot.
“Get out.”
The boss walked ahead with the child; I followed behind, clueless about where we were going, what he wanted, or why it was me.
In the elevator he pressed the top-floor button.
Wait—he’s taking me to his home?
“Lily, please take care of her, thanks.”
He said that as he opened the apartment door and walked straight into his room.
Please? Thanks?
He never says things like that.
Before I could react, a small hand grabbed mine.
“Maggie-mommy, I’m hungry…”
“Call me Maggie-sister and I’ll make you food.”
“You really aren’t my mommy?”
“Your dad knows who your mommy is.”
“Okay… then sister will cook!”
“What do you want?”
“Everything.”
“Tomato scrambled eggs?”
“Yes!”
“Braised ribs?”
“Yes!”
“Corn with shrimp?”
“Yes!”
Those three dishes were my lifetime specialty.
“Let’s see what’s in the fridge…”
I opened the refrigerator: rows of bottled water, juices, milk.
No vegetables. No meat. This fridge was a water tank!
God—do rich people just drink water and skip food?
Just then the doorbell rang.
“Your fresh groceries.”
Turns out, the boss had daily fresh deliveries.
I opened the box: eggs, tomatoes, corn kernels, shrimp, and spare ribs.
Did the boss read my mind or something?
I moved like a tornado and got the three dishes onto the table in no time.
“Ethan Blake, come eat!”
Lily ran to the boss’s bedroom door and pounded on it.
This kid has been a little tomboy since she was born.
Mr. Blake came out and sat down.
"Um… Mr. Blake, if there’s nothing else, I’ll head out."
I took off my apron, ready to sneak away.
"Sit. Eat with us."
He said it simply.
"Really?"
Well… I was hungry.
"Don’t leave it unfinished."
He jabbed.
So he thought I was a food bin…
"You’re a good cook."
He sampled a bite like he was testing poison, then started serving food into Lily’s bowl.
Hearing that, I hurried to flatter him. "You bought great ingredients, boss. They just happen to be things I can cook."
"I saw it on your Moments. You forgot to block me last time."
"No, Mr. Blake, I didn’t block you."
I waved my hands, denying it.
Wait—Mr. Blake actually looks at my ordinary Moments?
He remembered?
I felt oddly touched.
We ate until everything was gone.
Lily let out a contented belch and giggled at herself.
Even Mr. Blake smiled—for a single beat.
His house had a fancy dishwasher, so I was freed from scrubbing.
I wasn’t asking for a raise or a promotion—just to be allowed to leave.
Mr. Blake carried the dishes into the kitchen with me.
"You busy tonight?"
"No."
"Watch the kid for me. I’m not good at it."
"Mr. Blake—"
"The guest room is stocked. Stay there tonight."
I wanted to smack my own mouth and shout "I am busy!"
It’s not hard: bathe Lily, put her to sleep—I was exhausted.
I showered and put on the men’s robe Mr. Blake had left in the guest room and called Sophie.
"Sophie, I can’t get out of Mr. Blake’s house…"
"You went to his place?"
"He dumped the kid on me, I finally put her to sleep, I’m dead tired."
"Maggie, you and the boss—are you two actually a thing?"
I left the room and poured a glass of water.
"Give me a break. The dad who abandons the child’s mom and leaves childcare to employees? Not my type. Just because he’s handsome doesn’t mean he gets to flirt everywhere and dump the child’s mother!"
"Keep your voice down."
Sophie warned me.
"He’s in his private office… I—"
I turned and saw Mr. Blake sitting on the sofa, looking at me. "Mr. Blake—"
"Thud."
My phone dropped.
Oh no, I’m fired now.
I stood there waiting for judgment.
"The kid is my brother’s."
Mr. Blake spoke first.
Huh?
Accidental father? Suddenly a dad?
Seeing the green cartoon halo over my head, Mr. Blake clarified, "Her parents were close friends of mine. The mother died in childbirth years ago. My brother had something urgent and I took her for a couple of days."
"Ah, Mr. Blake, you’re such a good person."
"What did you say before?"
"Please, sir, don’t hold it against me. Spare me…"
I clasped my hands and looked at him with mock tearful eyes.
"You said I was handsome?"
That wasn’t the normal line… "And a philanderer?"
He circled right back.
"Mr. Blake, I didn’t mean it—"
"Aren’t you all afraid of me?"
He asked.
"Mainly because you don’t smile."
At this point, ‘afraid’ felt right and ‘not afraid’ felt wrong, so I changed the subject.
"I heard you made a group chat without me."
Mr. Blake narrowed his eyes.
I complained, "I’m not in it anymore either."
"Hmm?"
"They all thought I was the boss’s wife. Now I’m friendless."
"You helped me. I won’t let you suffer for it."
"Thank you, Mr. Blake."
I thought, a little extra bonus wouldn’t hurt.
"Get some rest."
"Okay, Mr. Blake. You too."
I retreated!
So Mr. Blake wasn’t secretly married young and he wasn’t an accidental dad.
I told myself: a boss this perfect couldn’t possibly be like those dumb patriarchal romance novels.
Lying on the guest room’s bed—twice as big as mine—I swore I’d make big money and be the boss someday.
That dream lasted until morning.
I turned off my alarm, washed up fast, and rushed out.
"It’s early."
I’d forgotten I was at Mr. Blake’s. The office was only minutes away, and there was a company car pickup—before this I’d squeezed through an hour of subway every day to barely arrive on time.
"Should we wake Lily?"
"Let her sleep a bit. My friend will pick her up soon."
"Already?"
"He’s a doting dad."
"Lucky."
"I’ll go run. If you’re tired, you can sleep a little longer."
"Yes, sir!"
Watching him head out in workout clothes, I marveled at his discipline.
Not long after, the door opened.
A stranger snapped the lock and walked in, stopping in front of us.
We stared at each other.
Do thieves these days dress in tailored suits?
Are all thieves this handsome?
"Daddy!"
A small shadow shot to the man in a flash and flung herself at him.
"Lily, have you been listening to Uncle?"
"Mr. Blake won’t eat my cheese stick…"
Lily pouted. "Dad, this is Maggie!"
Thank goodness she didn’t call me ‘mom’ in front of her father—that would’ve been mortifying.
"Hello."
"Hello, I’m Maggie."
"Ben Parker."
"Dad, I’m so hungry."
Lily stared at the huge bag of food in Ben’s hands, drooling.
Ben knew Mr. Blake’s house well; the table quickly filled with dishes.
"Miss Maggie, have some."
"Thank you."
I sat.
"Ning, you’re in a rush to see your daughter, and you didn’t even close the door?"
Hearing Mr. Blake’s voice, I stood again.
He walked over. "Now that introductions are done, I’m going to change."
In the end, the four of us ate breakfast together.
I get awkward in social situations, but both men were focused on the child, so I relaxed a bit.
"Dad, can Maggie be my mom?"
Lily blurted out.
Mr. Blake popped a dumpling into her mouth. "No."
Ben glanced between my boss and me and smiled.
"Why not?"
Lily took the dumpling out and stared at Mr. Blake.
"Kids don’t get to ask so many whys."
She hopped out of her father’s arms and ran to me with quick little steps. "Maggie, don’t be afraid of Mr. Blake!"
"Lily, he’s my boss."
I pinched her nose.
Mr. Blake glanced at his phone. "The driver is here. Ning, you and Lily eat, we have to go to work."
I hurried to my feet and followed Mr. Blake.
Car, drive, arrive at the office—we walked in together, and I quietly returned to my workstation under the gossiping stares of colleagues.
"Maggie, you came in with the boss?"
Andy raised an eyebrow.
"No way, are you kidding?"
I rolled my eyes.
"You stayed overnight at the boss’s!"
Sophie smacked my shoulder hard.
"Don’t bring it up. You were overheard badmouthing him last night…"
Andy teased, "Where’s the baby from your romance with him?"
"He’s not the boss’s kid, he’s his brother’s."
I spoke a little too loudly.
Everyone gathered around after that.
"Don’t get the wrong idea. The boss was just helping for a couple of days. I was asked because the kid just happened to latch onto me."
Sophie waved her hands. "Okay, everyone, disperse."
Misunderstanding cleared, back to work.
My strongest point is I’m not a dreamer.
Being ‘boss’s wife’ is impossible; if I could get promoted and a raise, I’d be satisfied.
Then the boss’s secretary walked straight to me, drawing a crowd of eavesdroppers.
"Maggie, the boss says you don’t have to work here anymore."
What?
He was firing me?
"No way?"
I was about to cry.
"The boss asked me to show you the new office."
Huh?
An office?
The people around me had cartoon hearts in their eyes.
Stayed overnight at the boss’s, and today—an independent office? This is literally the overnight promotion trope!
Help!
When we left the work area, I hurriedly asked, "Evan, what’s going on?"
"Congrats on being promoted to executive assistant."
"Oh—assistant…"
Relief. Not too high-ranking, won’t invite vicious speculation.
"Assistant Director, your salary will be five times what you earn now."
Evan held up five fingers to emphasize.
"Assistant Director?"
That’s a senior role—what did I do to deserve this?
"Well? You called him ‘boss’ so much, you forgot he’s the chairman."
Now it was really confusing.
I barged into Mr. Blake’s office.
He looked up. "What? Promoted and you can’t even knock?"
"Mr. Blake, if I’ve sinned, punish me. But don’t toy with me."
"What sin?"
"That I gossiped about your private life and badmouthed you, only to be heard."
He had an expression like, "What else?"
"I swear on my life I only did that one bad thing!"
I raised my hand and swore.
"Am I torturing you?"
He asked.
"From slumming in the poor neighborhood to stepping into a mansion overnight, under everyone’s eyes—this is torture!"
"This is a reward."
"I’ll be ostracized by coworkers."
"Handle coworkers. That depends on you."
"But I only watched the kid for half a day. You can’t hand an entire company to me!"
"Is that your low opinion of yourself?"
"I’ve only been here a year…"
"If you work seriously, rumors will die on their own."
No sooner had he spoken than the doorburst open.
"Surprise, Mr. Blake!"
A girl in a crop top and miniskirt barreled in.
Mr. Blake didn’t look at her. Instead, he told me, "You can go."
I hadn’t gone far when voices came from inside: "Mr. Blake, how was I? Am I gorgeous?"
So that’s his type… Sophie sent me a message.
"Alert lifted! A vixen just stormed into the boss’s office. Everyone’s attention moved—no one’s caring about your overnight promotion anymore!"
"Good. Our real boss’s wife finally showed up."
I teased.
"Mr. Blake looks so cold, but he likes this type? Tsk tsk."
"He’s conniving. He could like anyone."
By the time I finished a stack of files, it was already past lunch. Sophie and Andy brought me lunch from downstairs.
True revolutionary friendship.
"Wow, this is a real private office!"
Andy marveled.
"Maggie, you struck gold!"
Sophie tapped my forehead.
I swallowed a bite. "Yeah? Want my luck?"
"No way. Gossip plus a deadly workload would kill me!"
Sophie shook her head hard.
"Good to know."
"But, Maggie, this looks like a mix of carrot and stick."
Andy tapped the thick stack of files on my desk.
"Five times pay if I get everyone turning on me—good thing that little sister showed up out of nowhere, otherwise my twenty-five years of keeping my reputation would be ruined."
"That sister’s just following trends, but she’s got an amazing figure. After all, our boss is still a man."
Sophie sighed.
"Not all men like that," Andy shook his head.
"You’re just not old enough yet," Sophie laughed.
"Men are visual creatures. Look, if the boss likes this now, in ten years he’ll still have girls in their twenties around him.
That’s what I call an iron-clad boss and a revolving cast of twenty-somethings!"
I walked and talked through the office.
Sophie suddenly cleared her throat. "I think our boss is different from ordinary men."
"Of course he’s different. Ordinary men only daydream. Our boss makes things happen," I added.
"What Maggie means is, our boss is amazing," Andy winked at me.
I thought Andy’s wink was a signal for me to flirt, so I played along.
"Of course he’s amazing—financially and physically."
Accidental Babysitter, Reluctant Billionaire
Then the voice I absolutely didn't want to hear at that moment appeared—Mr. Blake's voice.
"Am I amazing or not? You know the answer."
"Good evening, boss! Goodbye, boss!" Sophie grabbed Andy and bolted.
Wow. So the throat-clearing and the wink weren't flirt signals—they were warnings that the boss was right behind me!
What are the odds I trash-talked him twice right behind his back and he heard both times?
It's like skipping class and getting called on during roll, or being late and literally bumping into the teacher—embarrassing perfection.
I turned around stiffly.
"Boss, when did you get behind me?"
"Not long ago. But I heard your passionate speech."
"Sorry, boss. Just idle chat!" I thought my joke would make him laugh.
"You're so glib, it's a waste of talent." He sneered. "Starting tomorrow, you'll be doing field work."
"Boss…"
"Your position's safe, provided you use your charm to bring the company a batch of new clients."
He started to leave, then came back. "One week. Five clients."
Whether I could do it, I didn't know. All I knew was he was really pissed.
In a market that's nearly saturated, pulling in five new clients in a week was practically a pink slip.
I spent an entire afternoon calling every contact I had. Nothing.
Tomorrow I'd be running around for nothing.
After work, the subway broke down. I plopped down on the curb outside the building and wanted to slap myself.
"Maggie!" That tiny voice made me look up. Sure enough, Lily and her dad were there.
"She insists on seeing you. Miss Maggie, do you have time for dinner?" Ben Parker asked.
"I want Maggie's cooking," Lily whined.
Ben noticed how tired I looked. "She's worked all day. How about pizza instead?"
"Okay."
After dinner, Lily fell asleep in her dad's arms.
"She really likes you," Ben said. "If you ever need help, just ask."
Perfect. I didn't care about pride anymore.
"Not later—now. I have a crisis."
After my heavily embroidered account of Mr. Blake, Ben felt sorry for me.
"Zeke can be tough. I can introduce you to my contacts, but you'll have to—"
"No problem! No problem! If you introduce them, I'll go door to door!"
I thought with the boss's buddy network, I could over-deliver.
"Hello, this is ApexTech. Does your company need upgrades or advertising services?"
"ApexTech?"
"We're among the top in our field. Sample Mart and Kingdoms Royale work closely with us."
"I'll think about it."
"Thank you. Call me anytime."
I'd said that conversation a hundred times today.
I needed a new tactic—play to their tastes.
I'd heard the Kendall Group playboy liked nightclubs, so I changed outfits to blend in.
If blunt failed, go soft!
But the bouncers only let acquaintances in and stopped me at the door.
I folded my arms and put on my fiercest face. "Does Mr. Blake know I'm here? He's pals with your boss! If you mess up something for him, you'll be out of a job!"
Maybe my act worked—they let me in.
If I truly got fired, fine, I'd go to film extras in Hengdian!
Using my excellent intel, I maneuvered close to one of the playboy's buddies.
"Lady, drinking alone is no fun."
"Then drink with me?" I looked so mournful.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"The boss gave me an impossible task."
"A buddy of mine's family owns a mine. Maybe he can help."
"You can introduce me?"
That move worked.
"No problem. Come on!"
I assumed these guys were tight with the playboy, but they were just party friends.
The playboy stared at me. "If you can down this row of shots, I'll do you the favor."
Twelve tiny bombs. I wasn't sure I could walk out after drinking them, but I couldn't succeed otherwise.
Cheered on, I downed twelve shots in one go. When I stood up, the world spun.
"Badass! I'll help you!"
Dizzy and somehow signed, I escaped the den of wolves.
I leaned against the wall to leave and someone steadied me.
"Let me walk you home."
It was the guy who'd introduced me, his face full of mischief.
"No thanks, I can go by myself." I brushed him off.
"Don't be a hero. Come on." I felt utterly weak; my eyes wouldn't stay open.
Before I blacked out, the only thought was: this is how I wrecked myself.
All because of that bastard, Ethan Blake!
When I came to, I was in an unfamiliar room wearing clothes that weren't mine.
I tried to calm down. I had to collect evidence and call the police.
Wait—this room felt familiar.
This is my boss's guest room, isn't it?
I crept out and—caught red-handed by Mr. Blake.
"Awake?"
"Mm."
He glanced at his watch. "You're five minutes late."
"Weren't you sending me on field work?" I retorted.
"Looks like you're sober now."
"Why am I here?" I asked.
"Who took your clothes off?" I asked again.
"Guess."
There was only one possibility.
I grabbed my phone and dialed 911. "Hello? I need to report a crime."
Seeing my determination, Mr. Blake reached for my phone. I reacted fast, snatching a fruit knife from the table and shouting, "Don't talk! Don't move!"
He sat down resignedly.
"Put your hands up!" I ordered.
He sighed and raised his arms.
The police arrived fairly quickly—two officers, one tall and thin, the other short and stocky.
"Did you call?" the tall one asked.
"Yes." I nodded.
"Put the knife down." The stocky officer gestured at the blade.
I realized I was still holding it, tossed it aside, and pointed at my boss. "He's the suspect!"
They began to take our statements.
"You're saying he used his position to sexually harass you?" the tall officer asked.
I nodded. The scene seemed obvious—witness and physical evidence present.
"Officer, my employee might be misunderstanding," Mr. Blake said. "She got drunk last night and almost got taken advantage of. I saved her."
"You brought her home?" the stocky cop squinted.
"I have surveillance." He pointed to the living room camera.
At that moment, I didn't know how mortifying this would become.
Mr. Blake pulled up the footage. At 11:10 p.m. he carried an unconscious me into the house and set me on the couch—right in front of the camera.
Ten minutes later, Sophie arrived. Together they moved me to the guest room, and then Mr. Blake left.
Sophie stayed to deal with my mess for half an hour. After she left, the footage fast-forwarded—Mr. Blake never entered the guest room again.
The tall officer cleared his throat. "It's good to be vigilant, but you need some basic judgment."
"Sorry, officer. It won't happen again."
I walked the two officers to the door.
"Another time?" the stocky cop glanced at me.
"No, no!" I frantically waved. "Thanks, officers. Have a good night!"
I shut the door and immediately dove into Mr. Blake's arms.
When did he get behind me?
"Is that the image you have in your employees' hearts?" he stepped back.
"Boss, I'm sorry. I was drunk."
"I already spared you. Want me to unmute the surveillance so you can hear?"
"No! I made a mistake!" I shook my head like a madwoman.
"Fine. Listen to this." He held up his phone and played a recording.
"Ethan Blake, you bastard!" I heard my own slurred thought from last night.
Crap. He'd captured me calling him a bastard. Plenty of employees might think it, but me saying it to his face—first in history.
I'd died in public multiple times—my job might be over.
Who knew I'd slip and, while grabbing a life straw, yank off one of his shirt buttons?
Face-to-abs. Social death again.
"Couldn't get me arrested, now you're trying to frame me?" he frowned.
I looked down at my sleepwear and slippers, thought for a second, then bolted back into the guest room and locked the door.
"Sophie, what if I tore his shirt off?" I messaged. No sooner did I send it than Sophie called.
"How much did you tear?" she asked.
"All of it."
"Does he have abs?"
"Six-pack."
"V-line?"
"Yep."
"Wow!"
"Sophie, this isn't the point!" I snapped.
"Then why'd you tear his shirt off?"
“Not just that—earlier I called the police and almost had my boss arrested…”
I told Sophie the whole story from start to finish.
She was quiet for a long moment. “Maggie, if I were you, I’d get out of this city tonight.”
“But I can’t even get out the front door right now.”
“I should’ve stayed with you last night.”
“I should just quit.”
That was my final decision.
“Your clothes are dry. I’m heading to the office.”
Mr. Blake knocked on the door.
I strained to listen and heard the lock click shut. Only then did I let out a breath.
I cracked the door open and saw a paper bag—my clothes folded neatly inside, lavender scent lingering.
Of all things, he didn’t throw my clothes out. He actually has a good temper.
I changed, wrote a resignation letter, and headed straight to ApexTech.
On my way through the open-plan workspace, Sophie and Andy stopped me.
“You don’t actually have to quit. The boss didn’t really say anything.”
Sophie glanced at the resignation letter in my hand.
“This feels like the calm before the storm,” Andy chimed in.
“I’ve decided. I’m going to talk to him. Take care of yourselves.”
I struck an over-the-top heroic pose, then patted their shoulders.
I handed the contract I’d almost died for yesterday and the resignation letter to Mr. Blake.
“You’re quitting?”
“Mr. Blake, I’m sorry. Let this contract count as my penance—please let me go.”
He unfolded the resignation letter.
I hadn’t expected him to read it, so I’d scribbled something silly: “The boss’s abs are dangerously distracting and severely undermine my work efficiency.”
He glanced at the letter, then at me, like I was an idiot.
“Ethan Blake, goodbye!”
I waved and sauntered out of his private office with all the flair of newfound freedom.
I was liberated—I could finally call him by his full name!
At the company entrance, HR chased me down and handed me a bank card.
“The CEO instructed this—three months’ salary as severance.”
What a boss.
I looked back at the company with a little pang of regret.
On impulse, I walked into the coffee shop I’d been visiting for months.
The owner was an artistic guy with long hair—I always called him Hank.
“Hank, an iced Americano.”
“Running late today?”
He glanced at the clock on the wall.
“I quit.”
I smiled.
“Switching jobs?”
“Not found a new one yet.”
I shrugged.
“You really are adventurous…”
“Hey, do you need help here?”
“If there’s anyone else in this shop besides you and me?”
Hank gave a helpless smile.
“I think your coffee’s great—why so few customers?”
I sighed.
“If it’s still like this next month, I’ll go back home.”
“Don’t.”
This place was my only attachment to the city.
Hank ruffled my hair. “If you don’t leave, will you pay my rent?”
“If I can bring in a crowd, can I make coffee here?”
“If you can make this place famous, I’ll hand the shop over to you.”
“Deal.”
I didn’t have a sure plan, but an idea had just popped into my head.
At noon I met Sophie and Andy for lunch.
“You really quit?” Sophie still couldn’t believe it.
I nodded. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”
“So what are you doing now?” Andy asked.
“I’m going to make coffee.”
Andy teased, “Maggie, that’s quite a leap.”
“Before I left, was there a popular streamer at the company—someone who filmed the boss secretly?” I asked Sophie.
Sophie nodded. “She’s a top streamer now.”
“Sophie, do you have her contact?”
Sophie had been at the company three years longer than me—she was the one to ask.
“Scoop, pick something else. Maggie’s buying,” Sophie said, sliding the menu over.
“Anything—empty the place if you want!” I agreed, though they still avoided the expensive items. Their restraint felt like true friendship.
I added the streamer Vivi on WeChat and messaged her.
“Hi, I’m Maggie.”
Half an hour passed with no reply, so I got blunt.
“Thanks for adding me. I’ll be brief. There’s an amazing coffee shop nearby hidden by a bad location. If you’re free, please come try it.” Then I sent the address.
“Kind of far. I’m busy. Do you deliver?” she replied.
Hank had always refused delivery—he said time and distance ruined the taste.
“Can I deliver it to you myself?”
No delivery? Then I’d be the delivery person.
“Okay, thanks.”
She sent her location. From her social posts I’d guessed her preferences—coffee type, sugar and milk ratios, hot vs. cold, cup size, color preference. With Hank’s care, we created a Vivi special.
I secured the cup, hopped on a scooter, and sped to her address.
The coffee arrived intact. Vivi came downstairs herself.
“This is actually good,” she said, smiling. She sniffed the packaging, sipped again. “You put a lot of thought into me, huh?”
“Of course. Would you help promote us?”
“Sure.”
Vivi opened Weibo, took a selfie with the coffee, and tagged the shop. She was shockingly down-to-earth for a top streamer—no attitude at all.
“Sophie said you used to work at ApexTech?” she asked.
“Until today. I quit,” I added. “Thank you so much!”
“If it weren’t for Ethan recommending me to that company back then, I wouldn’t have made it this far,” Vivi tilted her head. “He helped me—so I’ll help you. Consider it returning a favor.”
It turned out Ethan hadn’t fired Vivi; he’d recommended a better job for her. What a rare good boss. Too bad I’d already quit before I realized that.
I opened Weibo. Vivi’s post had already hit tens of thousands of likes and shares.
I grinned so wide my face hurt. While waiting at a red light I called Hank with one earbud in.
“Hank, any customers yet?”
“Are you dreaming?” he sounded choked.
“Okay, keep waiting. It’ll be fine.”
Green light. I rode on.
Hank laughed. “Alright—congratulations early, Boss Maggie.”
“Congratulations back at you.”
An old lady was jaywalking ahead. I braked to let her pass.
Wait—why won’t the brake squeeze?
I fiddled with it. No response.
Fine, sacrifice me then.
I swerved right and crashed into the tree-lined median.
It hurt like hell.
A crowd formed, asking if I was okay.
“Call 911!” someone shouted.
“No need. I’ll take her to the hospital,” a voice said.
I looked up to find Ethan Blake looming over me.
“Boss?” I blurted.
Ethan scooped me up and said huffily, “I’m not your boss.”
On the ride to the hospital, the car was painfully quiet.
Ethan drove. I lay flat in the back seat.
“Ex…boss?” I asked, testing the waters.
“Aren’t you going to say my name?” he grunted.
“This is my fifth public humiliation with you—what a coincidence,” I sighed.
He snorted. “There aren’t that many coincidences.”
If it wasn’t coincidence… “You’re not stalking me, are you?”
I patted the seat beside me. He’d driven me away—was he going to start imprisoning me too?
“Doesn’t look like the fall hurt much.”
“It hurts. It hurts so much.”
Ethan’s thin lips parted. “Serves you right.”
We reached the ER. No fractures, but a ligament strain—hospital observation for two days.
Hank must have heard about the accident and rushed to the hospital.
Ethan stepped out of the room.
“Hank, if you leave the shop, what about the customers?” I sat up, panicked.
“There aren’t any customers.”
“No way…”
I fished out the bank card HR had given me. “This is my three months’ salary. Please use it—keep the shop open another month. I’ll find a way!”
“My three months’ pay?” Hank raised an eyebrow.
“Isn’t that a bit—” He waved the card in front of my face. “Maggie, this is a black card.”
“A black card? The black card you’re thinking of?”
The kind CEOs flash in novels?
“You’ve never seen a black card?” Hank tapped my head.
“Ouch. It hurts.” I winced. “I really haven’t seen one…”
“This card could fund your own coffee shop. Don’t sweat mine.”
“Hank, for a year I’ve woken at six every morning. If it weren’t for your coffee, I wouldn’t have made it. Your coffee is part of how I remember this city. I’m attached!” I gave a passionate little speech, then noticed Hank had stepped out to take a call—so much for my heartfelt moment.
“Hank says there’s a line outside the shop. I have to get back and make coffee,” he told me, then dashed off.
My coffee place was saved.
My eyes rested on the black card in my hand.
Ethan… gave me a black card?
“Boyfriend?” he asked, leaning in the doorway.
“No,” I said. “Friend. The shop owner.”
“You rode a scooter just to deliver coffee today?” he asked suddenly, and it struck me—my scooter!
“Oh no! I hadn’t returned the rental scooter yet. Am I going to be charged a fee?”
I threw back the sheet to get up.
Ethan pressed me back down. “I already handled it.”
“Right—did HR give me the wrong card? Hank said it’s a black card.” I handed the bank card to him.
“It’s not wrong.”
“Boss, are you out of your mind?” I mouthed, like an old subway person.
“Don’t think about it.” He took the card from my hand and walked away.
The next two days Sophie visited and took care of me, then picked me up when I was discharged—she said Ethan gave her paid leave.
When I went back to the coffee shop, the scene was beyond anything I’d imagined.
The shop had a few more helpers now, and Hank’s tired face was lit up with a smile.
"One iced Americano."
I walked up to Hank.
"Congratulations on leaving the hospital!"
Hank pushed the coffee he'd already prepared for me across the counter, then turned to the others. "This is your boss, Maggie."
"Hello, boss!"
The staff all greeted me in unison.
"So you're actually going to keep your promise?" I joked.
I smiled.
Hank pulled me aside. "No kidding—you're the boss now. I might have to be away for a while. Consider my initial investment your share. Just give me some dividends each month."
"No way…"
"Boss Maggie, get used to your new role," Hank patted my shoulder.
Me—Maggie Chen—twenty-five, owner of a trendy little coffee shop.
This must be the peak of my life.
Every day brought a parade of customers and every kind of life story. My staff get off at nine; I stick around until ten to close. The few people who linger before we lock up always have stories, and I love listening.
"One mocha."
"Okay, coming right up."
Probably the last customer for the night.
I handed him the cup and took a second look—he looked familiar.
He must have recognized me, because he turned to leave.
"Hey, where are you going?"
I chased after him.
Now I knew for sure: he was the same guy who tried to prey on someone at the club last time.
He stepped back, keeping about a meter between us. "I swear I didn't know you worked here, otherwise I wouldn't have come. I promise I won't ever show up in front of you again. Please let me go."
"What are you talking about?"
He told me the club I went to was run by a powerful man, and Ethan Blake was a friend of the club owner.
So it wasn't me being dramatic—Ethan Blake really was friends with the club owner.
He added that Ethan had warned him not to show up near me and had even knocked out one of his teeth.
"Please don't tattle to Mr. Blake—I’m leaving right now!"
With that, he bolted.
Back in the shop, Ethan Blake’s cold, icy face filled my head and my heart pounded like crazy.
Damn it. I think I'm in love.
"Emergency at the cafe, come quick!" I texted our group chat.
Sophie showed up first and Andy arrived right after.
"What's wrong?" Sophie touched my flushed cheeks. "Fever?"
"I think I like a man…"
"You liked women before?" Andy looked shocked.
I corrected him. "No—now I like a man."
"You didn't like the boss, did you?" Sophie eyed me.
"How did you know?" I hadn't expected Sophie to see right through me so fast.
Sophie said, "Your little circle is tiny. You couldn't possibly like Andy."
"Why can't Maggie like me?" Andy protested.
"Has Maggie ever slept over at your place? Did you rescue her in a club? Has she ever stripped you? Do you have six-pack abs? Did you give her a black card? Did you take her to the hospital?" Sophie fired off questions like a machine gun.
"Stop…" I covered my burning face and stomped my foot. Since when did I get so dramatic?
"Also, the boss probably likes you back," Sophie added.
"Yeah, if anyone else did what he did, they'd be fired. He wouldn't wait for you to quit," Andy chimed in.
"But I don't wear crop tops or micro-skirts." I suddenly thought of the girl in the office.
Sophie smacked her forehead. "Oh right—I almost forgot. The boss already has a proper girlfriend…"
"As long as they're not married, there's still hope!" Andy comforted.
"Old rules: rock-paper-scissors. If you win, you go ask the boss directly!" Sophie’s hand hovered, eager.
"But I never win…" I pouted.
"Then just ask him." Sophie insisted.
"I don't dare."
"Perfect. Time to snap you out of it." Sophie grabbed my hand.
"Rock, paper, scissors!"
I froze. One scissors, two papers. I was the scissors.
Andy clapped. "Maggie, it's destiny."
I dialed Ethan Blake and put it on speaker.
"Hello?"
"Ethan Blake."
"Yes?"
"Do you have a girlfriend?" I asked.
Sophie and Andy went silent in joyous anticipation—probably more hyped than I was.
"Why are you asking that?" Ethan asked.
"I lost a game, so I have to ask you a question."
"Why not play truth or dare?"
"This is the dare."
"That sort of question is a dare?" His voice dripped with mockery.
"Yes—what else?" I shot back.
Two seconds of silence on the line, then: "Will you be my girlfriend?"
The three of us felt our pupils go wide.
Was Ethan Blake—declaring? A confession?
Before I could answer, he added, "Now that's a real dare. Stop playing with your friends and get some sleep."
He hung up.
Of course—that's Ethan. One sentence and he leaves you speechless.
"Oh my God, I actually thought the boss just confessed!" Sophie swallowed.
"Ethan Blake is someone out of our league," I stood and stretched. "Alright, no more daydreaming. Closing time. Go home!"
"You're giving up just like that?" Andy stood up too.
"It never even started…" Sophie complained.
I began shutting down the counter, mumbling as I worked. "Usually someone as tall, handsome, and loaded as Ethan Blake must have a secret or a kink. I'll be the woman he can never have—let him regret it! Why aren't you guys saying anything?"
I looked up and met Ethan Blake's deep eyes.
Sophie and Andy stood nearby with solemn looks on their faces, like they'd seen a martyr.
This was probably the sixth time I’d died of embarrassment in front of him.
"Boss, to ensure we’re efficient tomorrow, we're heading home to rest!" Sophie once again dragged Andy away from me. Those two are clingy about clock-out times.
"I’m not walking you out," Ethan said without looking away, eyes fixed on me.
"Ethan Blake—what are you doing here?" I asked.
"You close the shop at ten every night for a week."
"How do you know that?"
"I only go home after I see you home safe at eleven each night."
"You followed me for a week?" I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed. "See—told you, you have a weird habit."
"If I were a bad man, you'd be done for." Ethan shook his head helplessly.
"So you are a bad man?" I stepped forward and looked up at him.
"I can play the bad guy for once." He pulled me into a sudden, solid hug.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Sophie and Andy still standing there taking pictures with their phones.
I buried my face in Ethan's shoulder so they couldn't catch my expression.
"So bold?" Ethan ruffled my hair.
"Someone's taking pictures," I murmured.
He didn't care and hugged me tighter. "Let them. Consider it an official announcement."
Me with my former boss—that was the real peak of my life.
Ethan drove me home.
"How can you be sure I won't shove you away and slap you?" I asked.
He grinned smugly. "I've planted a mole next to you."
It was the first time I'd seen him smile so genuinely. Also, one of Sophie and Andy must be the traitor.
"My place is close by." Ethan said abruptly.
"No."
"You've been there before."
"Still no."
His place was off-limits. I had called the cops and torn his shirt before—we weren't on friendly terms.
"Then stay at your place?" He tried.
"No room."
I refused outright. My tiny studio wasn't even tidied; I couldn't give him any leverage.
"Half the bed is fine."
"I only have a single bed."
"It's late; it's not safe for you to be alone."
"Ethan Blake, say another word and your whole image is ruined!" I snapped.
"Then I won't speak." He walked me up to my door.
"Really not letting me in?" I swore I hesitated for exactly one second before he stepped forward and went inside.
"It's… cozy." Ethan commented on my place.
"If it's messy, just say so."
"Go rest early. I'm going home." He rubbed my head.
"Weren't you going to stay here?" I asked.
He chuckled. "Missing me already?"
"Goodbye, don't send me off!" I pointed to the door.
"Parting kiss." He tapped his cheek.
I looped my arms around his neck and planted a firm peck on his lips, then pulled away quickly.
He hadn't expected that; I felt him shiver.
"Maggie…" he leaned in.
"Goodnight, Ethan Blake!" I dashed into my bedroom and locked the door.
If Ethan hadn't leaned on his car and waved at me the next morning, I might have thought the whole thing was a dream.
His car looked out of place among the aging apartment blocks—hard to imagine him as someone who could be my boyfriend.
"Morning." He ruffled my hair.
"What are you doing here?"
"Driving you to work, Boss Maggie." He came close and held my gaze. "Pinch me."
"What?" I asked.
"I don't feel real."
He leaned down, lifted my chin, and kissed me—a light, fluttering kiss that sent ripples through me.
His lips were so soft, like jelly!
"Get in the car." Ethan opened the door.
"Ethan, you're not just toying with me, are you?" I worried. If my standards shot up because of him, what if I ended up forever alone?
"Do I look like I've got nothing better to do?" he replied.
"I still don't get why you'd like me."
"No rush. Think about it."
"Then tell me now." I blinked, hopeful.
"No." He stayed the cold, aloof boss—at least for now. But I knew with me around he'd eventually turn goofy.
I pictured him tipsy and grinning like a mischievous kid; I vowed to get him drunk one day and let the real him come out.
"Stop smiling like that. Get out of the car." He popped my seatbelt.
"Bye." I stepped out.
"Gone so soon?" I leaned in and pecked his face through the window.
"Lunch together?" I said.
"My shop is busy."
"I'll pick you up tonight."
"Okay." He waved. "Drive safe."
He honked once like a reply.
Sophie came by at noon for coffee, and I seized the chance to grill her.
About the undercover thing.
"Sophie, you and Andy…"
"Okay, okay, I confess. We're together…"
"Together?"
"Isn't that what you were asking?"
"When did this happen?"
"It was that time—Boss called me at night and asked me to look after you. On my way home I ran into Andy, he walked me back, then he confessed, and I said yes, and… then nothing else happened."
"I should've seen it. He always calls you Sophie but calls me Maggie."
"Wait—you ran into Andy in Ethan's neighborhood? How can a recent grad afford to live there?"
"I don't know. I haven't been to his place."
"I'll ask you—what's Andy's full name?"
"Ethan Lan Blake. Aren't we the ones who started calling him Andy because his name sounded girly?"
"What's your boss's name?"
"Maggie, you don't even know your own boyfriend's name? Ethan Blake…"
The moment the name came out, Sophie froze.
We had never connected the two.
"Sophie, I have a bold theory: you're one step away from being part of the wealthy family."
Andy is Ethan Blake's real brother.
The undercover thing wasn't bribery—it's brotherly loyalty.
And Sophie? Her dream of marrying into money wasn't just talk.
That was my hypothesis.
Before I could give my next instruction, Sophie called Andy.
"Andy!"
"What's up, baby?"
I almost spit out my drink—him calling her "baby" was unbearably cheesy.
Sophie sounded embarrassed. "Behave."
"Okay, Ms. Sophie, I'll take orders!"
"Uh… you don't have an older brother, do you?"
Sophie got straight to the point.
"Yeah."
"Is his name Ethan Blake by any chance?"
"Yep."
Andy sounded oddly calm.
"Why didn't you tell us earlier?"
"Nobody asked me."
I grabbed the phone. "Traitor!"
"Maggie? I didn't do anything to betray you guys!"
"Really?"
I did not believe him.
Andy stammered, "Besides losing at rock-paper-scissors on purpose last time, I also… I told him you liked him."
"Traitor!"
I yelled again.
"Traitor!" Sophie echoed.
"I'm not a traitor—I'm like a matchmaker," Andy defended himself.
"True, otherwise you wouldn't be with Boss so fast."
Sophie looked at me.
"What about you?"
I flicked Sophie's forehead. "I'm steadfastly on your side!"
Sophie grabbed my hand, then jabbed the phone again, "Traitor!"
"Who are you calling a traitor?"
Ethan's voice came from the other end. He paused, as if checking caller ID.
"Sophie, dinner tonight—also invite Maggie."
Oh—Sophie is actually Sophie Quinn. Ethan could tell from one call that I was there too. Impressive move.
At six I handed the shop to the assistant manager I'd picked after long observation, then got into Ethan's car.
Sophie and Andy sat rigidly in the back.
"Make yourself at home in my car," I said, peeking in the rearview. Ethan flashed a small smile.
Sophie and Andy chatted fitfully; Ethan stayed silent.
Surprisingly, he chose a hotpot place.
It was hard to picture a refined man like Ethan eating hotpot.
Turns out he didn't do it often.
He dumped tripe and duck intestines into the boiling pot, his dipping bowl held a lonely bunch of cilantro and scallions, steam singeing his fingers.
"Bro, don't fumble. I'll do it," Andy took the plate and ladle.
Ethan shot him a look.
The three of us eat hotpot a lot; we know each other's habits.
Andy was thoughtfully feeding Sophie. Ethan, noticing their closeness, picked a slice of lotus root for me.
"Maggie doesn't like lotus root slices," Andy said, pointing to the lotus root in my bowl.
Sophie chimed in: "Yeah. Maggie likes lotus root chunks from bone broth."
"The kind that pulls apart stringy!" I added.
Ethan's face darkened; he tried to take the slice.
"But I really wanted lotus root today," I said, taking his hand and popping the slice into my mouth.
Anyone could tell I was buttering him up.
Who knew Ethan would fill an entire bowl of lotus root slices for me.
Sophie and Andy looked at me with sympathetic pity.
"Want another plate?" Ethan asked.
If it were anyone else, I'd think he was messing with me.
But with Ethan, it made perfect sense.
"No, no! So much left to eat!" Sophie and Andy dragged me out of my lotus-root hole.
Ethan's hands were probably still useful for slicing steak.
After dinner Sophie and Andy decided to stroll. They walked ahead, while Ethan pulled me along behind.
"Why hotpot?" I asked.
"Three of your ten social posts are hotpot," he said.
"You've been peeking at my posts."
I waggled his hand. "You post too often—hard not to notice."
He stopped suddenly. "You okay today?"
"No."
I shook my head. "I don't feel sick."
"You didn't eat much."
Getting down that bowl of lotus root was my limit.
"I'm not hungry."
He looked at me. "I'm a little hungry."
"But we just ate."
"Not here." Ethan moved my hand from his stomach to his chest. "Here."
I remembered a plan and whispered in his ear: "Ethan, do you have wine at home?"
"Lots."
His Adam's apple bobbed.
"Can I come to your place?"
I cocked my head.
I planned to get him tipsy.
I wanted to see the real Ethan.
He took me home—a place full of embarrassing, cringe memories for me.
It was dark; I couldn't find the light switch. Ethan closed the door and pinned me to it.
He was close; warm breath fanned my face.
"You promised wine," I said, nervous.
"Okay."
He released me, flicked on the lights, and pulled several bottles of red from the cabinet.
"Which one?" he asked.
"All of them," I said.
One bottle wouldn't get him drunk, for sure.
I forgot that one bottle would be more than enough to take me under.
When I next opened my eyes, sunlight poured in. My lashes cast shadows over his face.
"They're so long…" I reached to touch his eyelashes.
My motion woke him.
"Morning."
Ethan pushed the comforter down. He wasn't dressed.
So—last night we… slept together?
"Why are you staring? It's not like you haven't seen me before."
He sat up, sunlight catching the lines of his muscle.
"Last night—did we—"
I swallowed. "You tell me."
"Ah!" I buried my face in the duvet.
"What? Shy now?" Ethan dove into the covers too.
"No… this is awful! I remember nothing!"
I covered my face.
He pulled the blanket back. "You slept like a pig. If I did anything to you, that would be ethically questionable."
"So we each slept separately?"
I checked.
"You dodged last night. Don't act cute today," Ethan smirked.
"What are you going to do?"
I clutched my chest and shrank.
"What can I do? Breakfast's getting cold. Go wash your face and brush your teeth!"
After breakfast, Ethan glanced at his phone. "Ning says Lily wants to see you."
"Okay, let's go."
I wiped my mouth. Ethan frowned. "So eager to see her? You're not actually thinking about being her mom, are you?"
"Ethan, are you jealous?"
I smiled at him.
"I'm not jealous," he said, offended-proud.
We went to the children's play area.
"Maggie!" Lily ran into my arms, then Ethan took her from me. "Ethan, you're here too?"
Ethan took Lily from my arms. "What do you call her?"
"Maggie."
"And me?"
"E-Ethan…" Lily sounded a little scared of him.
"No—call me brother-in-law," he said.
Lily paused. "Sister-in-law? What's that?"
"My new name," Ethan smiled.
"You changed your name?"
"Yes."
"Brother-in-law?" Lily tried it out.
"Ethan agreed," she said.
"Brother-in-law?" she repeated. "How long will you use that name?"
"Why ask?"
"It doesn't sound good—Ethan Blake sounds better!"
Lily pouted.
Ethan laughed. "Too bad—this name is for life."
Ethan had a way of flirting without trying.
Ethan put Lily on his shoulders and walked ahead; Ben Parker and I followed.
"Zane hasn't dated much. Cut him some slack," Ben said first.
"Doesn't he have a lot of admirers?"
"A few, but he turned them down."
I suddenly remembered Sophie's description of "the demon" and asked, "Is there a little sister chasing him? Belly-baring tops, micro skirts, high ponytail…"
"You're thinking of my sister." Ben laughed. "I promise she wouldn't be into Zane."
"I never thought Ethan would like me," I shrugged.
"He's liked you for years."
"But I've only been at the company less than a year."
"When we were starting the company, we went back to campus to recruit and happened to catch your graduation speech—you were part of it."
"I kind of remember a contest… I was just dragged in at the last minute and didn't win anything."
"We saw you were about to consult with us, but a classmate pulled you into a big corporation."
"I was foolish at the time. I learned how exhausting big companies are and switched."
"You don't know—on your first day, Zane treated me to drinks all night. He was so happy."
"That's not right; he barely spoke to me when I started."
"He quietly does his work. He doesn't like to show off."
"Does what work?"
After I joined the company, Ethan hardly ever looked me in the eye.
"I knew you liked sunlight, so he put you next to the window; he grouped you with coworkers around your age who share your interests; he says you should go on fieldwork but keeps driving behind you because he's afraid something will happen… If you want, I can tell you the whole day."
"But if Ethan Blake never speaks up, we might miss our chance."
"That's why I sent in our ultimate weapon."
"Ultimate weapon?"
I frowned.
Ben Parker smiled. "You really think Lily doesn't understand what's going on?"
"Lily calling me 'mom'—you didn't egg her on, did you, Ben?"
Suddenly I realized.
"I told Lily that if she called you 'Mom' a few more times in front of Ethan, this cold-faced tyrant would get softened up."
"Ben, you're downright diabolical…"
"Just a little nudge. You're welcome."
That afternoon Ethan took me to the office, holding my hand as we walked through the workspace. Every head turned.
"Mr. Blake, here's our recruitment copy for this year."
Evan Grant handed Ethan a file and gave me a look that screamed he'd been smitten for ages.
Ethan said, "Add a line: 'This position already taken—applicants chasing the boss need not apply.'"
"Yes, sir."
Evan took the file and left.
"You're telling me this?" I asked with a smile.
Ethan didn't answer. He said, "Tonight—come to my place."
Before I could reply, my phone rang. It was my mom.
After I hung up, I sighed. "Ethan, change of plans. My mom's here. She's downstairs at the office building."
"I'll drive you home."
He picked up his coat.
I pushed him away. "No. I don't want my mom to know yet."
"Am I some sort of public shame?" Ethan frowned.
"No—if my mom knows I have a boyfriend she'll drive me crazy."
"Tell her I'm just a friend."
"And for the next two days, no messaging me and no turning up in front of me."
"No problem."
In the car my mom didn't pry much. When Ethan drove off, she immediately launched into gossip-mode.
"Mom, he's really just a friend," I said.
"I didn't ask," she answered. "Why would you come all the way without even a heads-up?"
"It was just an hour on the high-speed train. Do I need to file a report to visit my daughter?"
"You could've at least called. Surprise inspections, huh? Look at this place—it's a pigsty!"
She put her hands on her hips and looked around my little apartment.
"It's organized chaos," I said proudly.
"Organized my foot!"
"Mom, watch your language!"
The next night my mom suddenly announced she'd already bought a ticket home and was leaving right away.
After dropping her at the station, I texted Ethan: "Alert cleared. Mom's gone!"
"Mm," he replied.
"Want to come over and help me celebrate?" I sent, mostly to tease him.
Two minutes later: "Open the door."
I ran to open it and Ethan was standing there.
"You flew over?" I asked.
"I missed you. When you texted, my car had just pulled up under your building."
"It's so late…"
He closed the door and said, "Then let's do what couples do."
"What couples do… what does that mean?"
"The midnight togetherness you asked for."
He pinned me against the door, his Adam's apple bobbing.
I lifted his shirt—abs, chest, the whole skyline of muscles.
"Nice physique," I murmured, and reached up to touch him.
Ethan shrugged out of his shirt with one hand and kissed me—urgent but gentle.
Suddenly I felt a pang in my lower belly.
That familiar feeling.
"Wait—I need the bathroom."
I pushed him away.
"The bedroom's fine. I'll wait," he said from behind me.
In the bathroom there was a streak of red. Of course. Just my luck.
"Ethan, my period's here…"
I looked at him pitifully.
"Does it hurt?" He came over.
"A little."
"I'll go buy you something."
"No, it's fine. I'm not that delicate."
Ethan scooped me up in a crosswise hug.
"Hey—what are you doing?"
"Warming your belly."
He laid me gently on the bed and wrapped his arms around me from behind, one hand resting on my lower stomach.
His chest was warm. His hands were warm.
"Ethan."
"Yes?"
"Goodnight." I said.
"Goodnight."
He kissed my ear.
We were woken by a knock on the door.
"Who is it? So early…" I rubbed my eyes.
"I'll get it."
Ethan wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out of the bedroom.
"Aah!"
A scream came from the living room.
I ran out.
Ethan stood bare-chested, pinned face-down over the table by my dad, while my mom glared at him.
The scene felt awkward and oddly like some crackpot anti-vice sting…
"Dad? Mom? What are you doing here?"
"I knew you were hiding something," my mom said, not pleasantly. "Who's this?"
"Fr—friend," I stammered. "Boyfriend, okay?"
My dad let Ethan go. Ethan, looking like a kid in trouble, ducked behind me.
I handed him his sleepwear.
"How far have you two gone?" my mom squinted.
"Mom, what are you thinking? I got my period—he came to take care of me."
"So his method of caring is to go around half-naked?" Mom pursed her lips.
"Mom, you can't expect someone to not sleep at all," I said. "We slept separately!"
Ethan promised: "Auntie, I swear—I'll be on the couch, fully clothed, on standby. No impropriety."
This guy lies without even blushing.
"Besides," I grumbled, "after everything, what could he really do to me…"
My dad sat my mom down and asked Ethan, "Young man, what do you do?"
"I run a small company," Ethan answered. "ApexTech."
"Oh, that company is doing well—I've even bought some shares!" My dad laughed.
"You dabble in stocks?" my mom shot up.
My dad pointed at me. "We were talking about our daughter—don't drag me into this…"
After a round of questions, my parents calmed down. Then, unexpectedly, Ethan turned to them and said, "Uncle, Aunt— I know you're sad that your daughter suddenly has a boyfriend. But I promise you, I'm sincere about Maggie. I've liked her for four years. I'll like her for ten, forty, eighty more—I will take care of her my whole life and never break my word."
Ethan dropped to one knee and somehow produced a ring. "Maggie, will you marry me and let me take care of you for the rest of your life?"
"Yes! Yes!" My dad blurted out.
My mom rolled her eyes and my dad clammed up.
"Mom? Should I say yes…?" I looked at her.
"You decide."
"Mom…"
"Hurry up! Don't ruin the floor kneeling so much."
"Mom—are you feeling sorry for him?" I asked, laughing.
"I'm feeling sorry for the floor," she sighed.
"Ethan, I will!" I said.
If my parents hadn't been there, I would have thrown myself into his arms and devoured him right then.
Ethan had proposed. No crowd, no balloons, no cheers. Witnesses were my parents, and we were both still in sleepwear.
But it was perfect.
We would handle the paperwork and the wedding within a week.
After admiring the wedding photo we'd hang above the bed, Ethan shed his robe and crawled under the covers.
I pushed him aside with my arm.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I have something to ask."
"Mm?"
"Why do you like me?"
"Because of a speech."
"That shallow?"
Wow—Ben was right. It did start from that speech.
Still, I had doubts. "In your speech you quoted that line of classical poetry—'Where might I find that sweet grace, to revive the world'—and you used my name."
"Was that it?" Ethan smiled. "At that moment I thought, I'm your Ethan, you're my Maggie."
"Ew, that's disgustingly cheesy…" I rubbed my gooseflesh.
"Do you want something even cheesier?" Ethan blushed as he stared at me.
"No."
"Really? Nothing?"
His breath tickled my ear, making me squirm.
"Don't waste it then." I hugged him tight.
Turning a boss into a husband—survive a few social-mortifying moments and it's yours.
– The End –
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