You've been in your boss's office for two hours, staring at him with a furrowed brow and crossed arms.

Adrik simply ignores you.

As the spoiled and indulged miss you are, it bothers you not to get what you want.

And really you want Adrik.

"Why not?" you ask once more.

Adrik doesn't even look up from the papers in front of him.

"I don't date fetuses under 30," he murmurs absentmindedly.