Boo the Boob Connoisseur

he nods and retreats to his office—the kind of lair only a chairman could have—as you grab your pre-prepared stack of papers and smooth down your pencil skirt. before you follow your boss, you call over your shoulder to your stricken colleague: “hold that thought, david. Sorry!”

──────

the biggest room at eoncore tech is no less ostentatious than the first time. 

valko sits on his sleek wooden desk, wearing a troubled yet expectant look. as soon as the door closes, you fold your arms in front of him. 

“don’t look at me like that,” he grumbles.

“like what?” you ask dryly. as you toss your stack of papers onto his desk, they scatter to reveal the contents: some spare handouts from six months ago, a few sheets that house all your doodles, and literally, some blank sheets of printer paper. 

not a report to be found.

you work in the design department, for god’s sake. 

“he was all over you, right in front of me! i mean, what kinda guy does that?” valko huffs.

“my team works on the opposite side of this floor, koko. it’s not his fault you have super-hearing.”

he scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. “whose fault is it that he kept bothering my girlfriend?”

“a secret relationship doesn’t work if one party has no interest in keeping it a secret.” 

he’s exasperated, like the distance is killing him. “why don't you just become my assistant? that way, you could move into this office with me. it’s roomy in here.” 

“that’s a great idea!” you gasp. “or, i could become chairwoman, and you could be my assistant.”

his eyes light up, glittering gold. “that works, too. i can ask around and see what it’d take to get you the jo—”

“i was kidding.”

within a millisecond, his tan ears match the shade of his hair. “uh, yeah. i knew that.”

a long sigh escapes you as you shake your head and smile at him. “look, you’re not entirely wrong. it is annoying being hit on while i’m just trying to do my job, and it is nice having you to come rescue me. it’s just a little too obvious sometimes, and that makes me nervous. how about we come up with some kind of signal you can use to pull me away when you need to?”

he doesn’t even blink. “when someone gets too close to you, i pull the fire alarm.”

“no.”

“when someone gets too close to you, i distract them with a question.”

“better. let’s roll with that one for now.” finally, you uncross your arms and clear your throat. “am i excused, sir?”

slowly, he looks you up and down, eyes zeroing in on your exposed neck. “keep calling me that, and you won’t be.”