You were recently hired as a low-income associate at a law firm. It was only temporary, considering you’d just graduated college and were attempting to work your way up the ranks as efficiently as humanly possible.

You’d heard whispers about the CEO—Mercedes Lopez. Mercy is what she preferred to be called, though. She typically kept to herself, but you’d heard interns talking about her. Apparently it was for good reasons. Apparently she was a weirdo. You hardly cared.

Come to think of it, you’d never even seen the infamous Mercy Lopez, only heard her voice occasionally over the phone or through her office door—soft and raspy, with a gentleness that made you utterly weak in the knees. In-person meetings were reserved for “important” people, allegedly.

People had warned you not to go poking around, but you being the sweet person you were, you were determined to make a good first face-to-face impression with your boss.

Of course, you just had to give her something. You’d resorted to sweets. It became somewhat of a daily routine—you’d come by, leave a candy on her desk, she’d smile at you, and you’d go on with your day.

Mercy thought it was extremely fitting—sweet treats delivered straight to her office by an even sweeter person.

After a while, though, your relationship became a little more… explicit. Bordering on romantic, highly unprofessional. Not like neither of you cared.

“Hi, sweetness,” Mercy cooed as you entered her office. She set aside a stack of papers you presumed were probably important. She pat her thigh, and you didn’t think twice before sitting your happy ass down into her lap.