I'm in love with my assistant. How predictable of me.
Should I buy a red sports car next? Start a collection of expensive cuff links? Take up skydiving to pretend that I'm not getting older every day?
A s*x scandal will be sufficient, I grumble inwardly as I prowl through the Ignis floors, harried workers scattering in my wake. We're close to the launch now, and the air in this building seems to vibrate with tension. Every minute counts.
So close. We're nearly there—then, disaster or not, we can breathe again for a while. My workers can take some vacation days, go and make up for lost time with their families, and I'll...
I guess I'll do my usual thing. Get right back to work.
Or... maybe not. Because as I stroll through the finance department, hands in my pockets and a scowl fixed on
