What’s the actual last thing you’d ever want your executive assistant to see you doing the morning after you had hot, drunk, angry sex with her in a terrible hotel room? Dancing around your terrible hotel room to “Come and Get Your Love” like Star-Lord in 𝐺𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐺𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑥𝑦—naked? Yeah. Me too.

And yet, here we are. 

This isn’t even the most unprofessional thing that’s happened between us in the past couple of weeks.

The first was when I agreed to let her have Christmas Day off, but only if she goes with me to three family gatherings as my fake girlfriend.

The second was when she caught me belting out a Christmas song on stage in the awful hotel bar.

The third was the hot, drunk, angry sex that followed, but I do not regret it.

And she hasn’t even found out the real reason I need her by my side this holiday season.

I need to pull it together before I do the dumbest, most unprofessional thing of all—fall head over heels in love with the only assistant who’s lasted more than a month at the job and claims to hate me and my moods more than she hates eggnog. 

𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼’𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑠ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑔.