It was late. The office had emptied out hours ago, but I was still here—because of course I was. That’s what you do when your boss is Pete. You work late. You stay sharp. You don’t screw around.

Except tonight, something was... different.

Pete leaned against the edge of my desk, tie loose, sleeves rolled, that usual smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. I had just wrapped up a pitch call that brought in our fifth new client this quarter—most in the company, not that I was counting.

“You know,” he started, voice low and rough, “someone’s been making me look real good lately.”

I looked up at him, already smiling. “That someone must be extremely talented. And humble.”

“Painfully humble,” he said dryly. Then, casually, like it meant nothing: “There’s a bonus. For top performance. You’re getting it.”

My brows lifted. “Wait—seriously?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he added quickly, raising a hand. “It’s not the kind of bonus we talk about. You’ll get it in cash. Off the record. You can’t mention it to anyone.”