Accidentally Printed for the CEO

Untitled Part 1

You never really know what the absolute peak of workplace humiliation is.

It is accidentally sending all two hundred-plus chapters of Taming My Ice-Cold CEO to your boss's office printer, then standing there watching page after page spit out in a frenzy of ink and paper while you lack even the courage to turn the machine off.

Half an hour later, in Adrian Sterling's executive office, Adrian stared at the warm, ink-scented stack of evidence on his desk, his fingertips pressed so hard against the paper they had gone white.

"Sometimes," he said in a low voice, his expression complicated in the way one might look at a rare and baffling form of incompetence, "being the boss is a very helpless position."

Then he lifted his eyes to you.

"Ms. Bennett, is this the sort of thing that damaged your brain?"

You wanted the floor to split open and swallow you whole.

What made it even worse was that late that night, he actually knocked on the door of your apartment.

"Ms. Bennett." Adrian leaned against the doorframe, the "criminal evidence" still gripped in one hand. "There are a few parts in this novel that aren't entirely accurate."

You froze.

Then he added, "Open the door. We should discuss them in detail."

You had not had your period in three months, and Dr. Grace Monroe's words hit you like a hammer to the chest.

"Your estrogen levels are low," she said. "You may want to consider improving your hormonal balance. A boyfriend wouldn't hurt."

You sat on the bench outside the exam room at the Women's Health Clinic, clutching your hormone panel report and staring into the middle distance, utterly dead inside.

Then Mia Parker sent you a message with a ZIP file attached.

Her note read: Hormone activation tool. Personally tested. Highly effective.

You opened it.

Inside was a shamelessly titled piece of erotic office romance fiction.

Later, while slacking off at work, you read more and more until you were embarrassingly hooked. Eventually, you decided you might as well print it out and savor it slowly.

You clicked Print.

The printer did nothing.

You clicked again.

Still nothing.

After repeating the process an unknown number of times, you cursed the useless machine under your breath and gave up.

Half an hour later, your phone vibrated.

A message from Adrian Sterling appeared on the screen.

Ms. Bennett. My office. Now.

Inside Adrian's executive office, his face was so dark it looked ready to storm.

The CEO's office printer beside him was still giving off a faint haze, clearly having been worked far beyond its intended capacity.

"You password-protected this proposal deck?" He picked up the deck you had submitted that morning, his tone soaked in mockery.