The Secretary I Couldn't Fire

"Do you have any plans of coming down?" he asked through gritted teeth, his patience hanging by a thread.

"Down?" she gasped, tightening her hold around his neck. "Absolutely not! I'd rather become a chandelier than touch the floor."

Sebastian let out a slow, irritated breath. "Have you forgotten that you're currently hanging from my neck?"

"So?" she shot back without an ounce of shame. "Basic humanity says you save people whose lives are in danger. Mine is! My heart is about to burst out of my chest!"

"My secretary clinging to me like a baby koala wasn't on today's schedule," he muttered. "You're my secretary, not my wife."

Swara narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me? Since when does helping someone require a marriage certificate?"

She tightened her grip even more, nearly cutting off his air.

"Sebastian Sterling, if you even think about putting me down, I swear I'll sue you for emotional damage, physical damage, psychological damage, and every other kind of damage I can think of! And if I die today, I'll haunt you. Every. Single. Night. I'll stand beside your bed at three in the morning and whisper your name until you lose your sanity!"

"You're impossible," he groaned, trying to pry her arms loose.

"No, I'm terrified! There's a difference! My pulse is racing, my soul has already left my body, and if I get a heart attack because of you, I'll come back as a ghost just to push you out of your office window!"

Sebastian stared at her in utter disbelief before slowly lowering his gaze.

"Swara Jones..." he said with a dangerously calm voice, "...since when does running away from a dog the size of my palm become a life-threatening situation with a high risk of a heart attack?"

Both of them looked down.

The tiny, fluffy little dog stood by Sebastian's polished shoe, wagging its tail happily and letting out an adorable...

"Woof!"