As Grayson exited Nick's office, the door closing behind him, he shook his head in resignation. After all this time, he couldn’t help mellowing when Nick showed him that gorgeous smile. Habits die hard after all. 

Frustrated with himself, he clicked his tongue. Feeling the dryness of his lips, he steered away from his office and headed towards the pantry. As he walked past the movie posters framed up on the wall, he made a mental checklist of what he needed to do once he got back to work. 

Nick’s suggestion constituted adding a big new feature to the app. His ConDuit engineering team would need to overhaul quite a sizable fraction of the existing code. Architecture revamp, code refactor, the list went on. His mind could burst with the details.

Grayson walked into the pantry, heading straight for the water cooler. He could already feel the arrival of an impending headache. As he grabbed his cup from the dish rack and filled it with cool water, he massaged his forehead with the other hand.

Maybe he needed a bite of his favorite ice cream to revitalize himself. Turning toward the fridge, it was only then that he noticed the door was open. A black mop of hair was sticking out over it. The black hair mop backed away from the fridge and closed the door, revealing a young man holding a tub of ice cream. 

His prized ice cream. Chilly anger trickled through him. He stood frozen to the spot, watching in mounting fury as this idiot dug a big spoon into his ice cream and took a sinful bite out of it. His blood pressure shot up, popping a vein or two on his forehead.

When Mr. Idiot finally realized his presence, Grayson gave an icy glare that could freeze all the ice cream at once. He said in a clipped voice, “I’m sorry. May I know who you are?”

Mr. Idiot opened and closed his lips like a soon-to-be-dead fish. “I-I- Hi, Mr. Black. I-I’m the new ConCoct agent hire?”

Right, the guy who scored ridiculously high on the romantic inclination scale. It was no wonder why. This was a blathering fool.

“Umm, I’m Yu Junming.” Mr. Idiot extended his hand in greeting, a sheepish smile on his face. “You can call me Junming or-”

“I assume you didn’t have time to read the notes on the fridge,” Grayson cut him off with a pointed finger at the glaring piece of paper that he had written earlier this week stating that no one was to touch the blueberry tub of ice cream.

Mr. Idiot flushed a dark blood red, his eyes widening as he stared at the paper. Only then did Grayson take Mr. Idiot’s extended hand in a vice-like grip that could break all five fingers. Staring him right in the eyes, he said curtly, “Nice to meet you. And welcome to RomCon. I certainly hope I’ll see you here for a very, very long time.”

Pleased to see the guy turn as white as a ghost, Grayson’s lips curled up in a smirk. He dropped his hand and stalked away, certain that the new office idiot was adequately shaken.

Grayson was right. Terrified to his core, Junming could hardly move. When Grayson was out of earshot, Junming placed the tub of ice cream down on the countertop. He rushed to read the piece of paper he had not bothered reading. When he was done, he stumbled backward and collapsed into a chair.

Junming ran both hands through his hair. The encounter with his boss had been a completely different kind of sparks and electricity. He had hoped for romantic sparks, not the kind of sparks that could shock and kill a person!

Whimpering, he wondered if Mr. Black would fire him the next day. No, there was no way he was letting go of this perfect job. His lips thinned into a determined line. He knew exactly how to apologize to Mr. Black. Tomorrow, he would show his utmost sincerity and beg for forgiveness in the most extravagant fashion possible.

Mr. Black was going to love it. He just knew it.