Office Siren. That’s what they all said behind your back. It really bothered Simon; especially when they weren’t good enough for you, those scrawny soft-handed intel boys.

But he had to admit, they weren’t wrong. Those tiny glasses, the slicked hair, that tight pinstriped skirt, the matching blazer and little silk blouse. The way you told them all how to do their jobs properly, you rolled your eyes—you knew you were better than these men.

Yet your face lit up when he came into the office, piles of organised paperwork in your arms… you had a helpful way of adding notes just so he could understand the key points quickly.

After all, he was the Lieutenant.

And he was going to fall for you.