How dare she barge in here like she's the owner of this company?

For the longest time I'd assume Sierra Bloom is the kind of woman that backs off the second someone raises their voice or looks at her with a bit more intensity.

She's all flowers and sunshine, greets all of her co-workers in a happy tone. She jumps around and giggles when she's happy.

And I cannot stand it.

She's the black sheep amongst all of my employees. Or maybe she's the white one? Whatever stands out more thanks to her bubbly personality.

Everyone else? They're all cloudy, broody and fucked up like me. In some ways at least.

But what I hate even more. She doesn't just stand out with her bubbly and sunshine-like personality. Sierra Bloom dresses differently.

Everyone else looks like some kind of business person. Suit and tie for the men, dresses that go below the knees for women. But not Sierra.

Sierra wears short summer dresses. Short skirts and crop-tops. Or even leggings and a sweatshirt. Not one other of my employees would ever dare coming in here dressed like she does.

I don't have a dress-code for them, I figured they're all old enough to know what's appropriate for work and what isn't.

It's not even that Sierra dresses inappropriately, I just don't like people that stand out.

And the way she always has her blonde hair perfectly styled, unlike the other women who tend to put their hair in a bun...it pisses me off as well.

Now she's here in my office, demanding to know what happened oh-so many weeks ago. Like I remember most of it still.

I do. God, I do. I wish I didn't, but I remember every single second of it. Starting from me pining after her when she "stumbled" into me, and I "unwillingly" had to catch her. To the point where she fell asleep in my arms that night.

"I don't have time for this, Ms. Bloom," I tell her. I really don't. She might have caused my 1 p.m. meeting-partner to flee, but I have another one coming in.

"You will have to make time," she says and takes a seat across from me. The same seat Ted McCallahan was seated in just a minute ago.

It's such a shame she acts this way now. So feisty and confident. It will get her fired in no time.

And here I was thinking she meant it when she said she'd need her job.

"You're not the boss of me, Ms. Bloom. You have two options, one in favour for you to keep your job." I know I've said she could pack her belongings before, but this woman is good at her job. It would be a shame to lose her. "One being you leave my office right now and keep your job. The other you try to stay and get escorted out."

She doesn't so much to acknowledge her options. Instead, Ms. Bloom crosses her legs and leans back in the chair. "Tell me what happened. Every single detail you remember."

That would be a hell lot of details.

Where would I even start?

Would I begin with the way her scent burned itself into my memory? How her legs looked extra smooth that night? How I've had a little too much to drink and simply couldn't stay away from her anymore?

"Why are you here?" I ask, ignoring her demand.

"You answer me first, Mr. Storm."

"I am not going to give you a porn description."

She sighs in anger, maybe? Frustration? Why would that frustrate her.

"Alright," she speaks softly. Her usual sweet tone. "Then, Mr. Storm, did you happen to use a condom? Cause as you know, I don't remember a damn thing from that night. You're the only one who can tell me."

A bit startled, I nod. Obviously I don't let my surprise show, but that doesn't mean I'm not internally questioning where the hell she is going with this.

Even if I didn't use a condom, if she has caught some kind of STD, it's not from me. And it's a bit late for her to figure that out anyway.

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty damn sure, Ms. Bloom."

She leans forwards, resting her hands onto my desk. Holding her eyes on mine, she leans in just that tiny bit more before she asks in a low voice. "Then how come I'm pregnant?"

A second ago I was thinking about Sierra Bloom naked on my desk, and now I have a hard time controlling my facial expressions.

I'm not sure if I'm more surprised that she says she's pregnant, or that she thinks it's my fault she is.

I've spent a good amount of years building up walls, creating an exterior that isn't easy to shake. And yet two simple words of Sierra Bloom's and all the walls are threatening to cave in.

"I'm pregnant", I know she didn't say it as an exclamation, but in a question. But either or, it doesn't change the meaning. She is pregnant, apparently, and telling me.

"You should know how women get pregnant. I don't think I have to explain that to you."

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. When she's about to speak, I hold my hand up to stop her. I think she's about to protest, but when she sees me grabbing my office phone she doesn't.

I dial the front desk number, wait a short moment before Athena picks up. When she does, I don't wait for her usual greeting before I say, "Cancel all my meetings for today" and hang back up.

Ms. Bloom was right, this can't wait. The conversation we're about to have is going to take a while. Not because I'm about to tell her this can't be my child, it sure could be, but because this is a conversation that requires a lot of talking.

"You believe me?" she asks, seeming a bit dumbstruck.

"Am I not supposed to believe you?" I don't think Ms. Bloom would voluntarily put herself through this situation with me if there was any other possible father in the picture. She could have chosen to take him as the father and I would have never known. She would have never had to sit in a room with me and discuss further steps.

Perhaps I shouldn't believe her. I have quite the number of reasons why I shouldn't.

"There was never anyone else but you. I can assure you that much. And trust me, if I would have a variety of options, I sure as hell would not choose my boss as the father of my child."

"That's kind of what I thought... wait, never?" Did I hear that correctly? I will never be able to live that one down.

She had told me something I wish I didn't know that night, but I didn't think never was an option in that case.

Sierra's cheeks are slightly flushed, and suddenly, she's no longer looking at me.

"Not for a long while, no." She's embarrassed. So much, she doesn't even notice that I'm more relieved to not have been her first time ever. Or how confused I am as to why she didn't have sex 'for a long while' before me, and then chose to sleep with me.

But I guess it makes more sense now. At least her drunken words were honest and not lied like I was about to assume a second ago.

"You didn't have to cancel all of your meetings, Mr. Storm. I just wanted to let you know about my situation and that's about it. Thank you for your time. Goodb-"

"You're staying right where you are, Ms. Bloom," I interrupt before she could finish her goodbyes. God, this is insane. How the hell did this happen? I mean, I have an idea, but still. What the hell?

I'm usually not that easy to shock, nor shake from my natural strict appearance. But Sierra Bloom just completely shuts down my system.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to think of what to say.

Sierra looks at me with an expression that tells me she has about a million questions, but she's not voicing either of them. Questions would make this so much easier for me. I've never been good at talking, let alone talking about a pregnancy... with a woman that's now carrying my child.

I'm not thrilled this happened, but I'm also not exactly annoyed it did. I guess I should be. Having a child together with one of my employees? That's going to be some headlines.

Wait, is she even going to keep the child?

Before I get an answer for my question, I suppose I owe her some answers first.

"Okay," I begin, clearing my throat. "When you decided to sleep with me"—Sierra shuts her eyes, scrunching her nose like she hates that I'm bringing this up—"you told me something about you not being sure if you're allergic to latex. You're not, by the way. Anyway, you kind of jumped me more than I did you. I've only been inside of you for a few seconds, before you changed your mind and went off me."

I guess I could have phrased this a little better, but why would I? We're adults, and she wanted to know. And to be honest, I kind of wanted to see her reaction anyway.

Now she's hiding her face in the palms of her hands, but I don't think she's crying. I hope she isn't. I have no idea how to deal with crying people.

"From there we did use a condom. And before you get mad at me, it was solely your decision to go without. I insisted on one, but you're kind of stubborn." And maybe I was a bit more turned on by demanding and sex-ridden Sierra Bloom than I would ever have thought I'd be. "Surely, that's not your fault. Your pregnancy is no one's fault."

Is it obvious I also don't know how to cheer someone up?

She removes her hands from her face, but she still doesn't look at me. "How would you know I'm not allergic to latex?" Seriously? Is that her only concern?

"I didn't, you said you weren't sure. But I guess you would have felt something after a while if you were."

I think good two minutes pass before Sierra finally looks at me. Two whole minutes of silence before she asks, "We didn't just do it once?"

Shaking my head, I shrug slightly. She groans and tilts her head back.

Not sure why that is more frustrating to her than anything I've said before, but cool, why not.

"Sierra, I want to be a part of the baby's life," I tell her. Although I never really thought I'd ever have a child. That only gives me one more reason to be in this one's life.

Her eyebrows rise in surprise, eyes widening slightly. Her jaw drops just a bit before she forces her mouth shut. "You do?"

I nod. "That is, if you're going to keep it." Great, now I at least had a possibility to throw that question in without directly having to ask.

Well, but now she is looking at me as if she is about to murder me. Like she never even thought about not keeping the baby. Guess that answers my question then.

"You really don't have to, Mr. Storm. All I care about is keeping my job so I will be able to care for the child... and offer him or her a place to live."

I suppose that's a start. Making sure the child has a place to stay, I mean.

"You're not going to worry about the money. If you want it or not, you're kind of my responsibility now. I'll make sure you and the baby are cared for." Before she can veto, I add, "Sierra, I need to ask you to keep this to yourself until I got the chance to figure out how to tell everyone without earning negative headlines for it."

Sierra chuckles softly, laying her index finger down onto her lips in amusement. "Sir, I'm kind of your PR. I handle most of your press reports. You know, the negative news, and turn them into less negative."

Right. She does do that, and she does a damn good job.

"You can't write about how you got knocked up by me at a team-building conference weekend," I remind her. "No matter how you'd put it, it'll always sound wrong."

"Probably." At least she agrees, I think? "How would anyone find out anyway?"

How wouldn't they?

"Cause they'll see us together and make up their own stories why that is."