My wife and the boss's kiss

n senior editor, Lucifer King, sings from the

ng straight for a ten-story office building in the middle of the street with Bl

little from the pressure of walking, talking, and carrying

ite sandstone lobby, I briskly stride over to the bank of elevators, pass

le even after years of working here. Scanning my card to summon an elevator, the heavy

ighing down my arms, and jab the butt

of hearing about my return practically palpable through the phone.

stomach knotting slightly. Mr. King's "plans

cket. Entering the office through the glass doors separating the elevator lobby and the bullpen

nding things to look busy with as I walk past. It's almost funny,

the tension before heading next door to Mr. King's office. N

ms out like he's greeting a long-lost friend r

always return fifteen minutes into your l

don't have to resume work the second I

nly realizing it now, and I g

ischievous tendencies, could be surprisingly

strange..! » he muses dramatically, rubbing his c

waiting for him t

extreme thinking into this, and I have decided to 'lend' your wonderful n

once. Th

sideways in confusion. «

dramatically. «

e w

of their three-month-old son, Leo, fearing he wouldn't recognize his own father with Mr. King being at work so

ere I had

ying outside the meeting room, to comfort and take care of him while completing my own tasks. Somehow, it

nanny s

from ear to ear, completely oblivious to

n on his palm in an exaggerated innocent gesture. « He's been divorced for about three months now and h

my hands fidgeting with

g a particular phone call, » he chirps, practically glowing with pride at

thought of working for someone unknown ter

ing...

completely unconc

. Think of it as... helping out a fellow lost soul. Besides, » he smirks wic

ng like the floor jus

nough, but at least here, I had a sy

ring for their child... that was a who

belatedly, that I'm about t

slightly, leaning forward

Leo was a newborn. And this guy... he's a good guy. He's just overwhelmed

le in my chest. I know what it's like to be overwhelmed, to have no id

, there's a knock

ight up like Chri

rightly, standing up and

mach l

ermission, Mr. King c

a man who looks like he wal

ingers through it one too many times. His sharp jawline was dusted with a d

world tilts again.

is grinning like he just orchestrated a Nobel P

asses across his face.

a flicker

on the shoulder and jostling me for

nd though mine is clammy with nerves, I

is warm a

e deep and rich, a little rough l

manage to

deep inside me, somet

n