It was a miserable day all around, if I was being honest. I was tucked away in my office on the top floor of GlobaPharm Headquarters, busying myself with the day-to-day tasks that took up the majority of my time. Work wasn’t particularly bothersome, just the opposite in fact. My boss, the only other resident of the top floor, was a handsome man with a winning personality and a charming smile. He treated me well, more like a friend than anything, though I never used that as an excuse to flake out on my work.

To say we both had the blues that day would be an understatement, though I’ll admit my reasons for feeling so down were less serious than those of Jensen Elliott. With my thirtieth birthday looming in four months’ time, a dream of mine felt as if it were drifting further out of reach as the days went by. I wanted to have a child before I hit thirty. I just couldn’t find the ideal man to do it with.

Seeking the perfect man to father my child was as difficult a task as one might guess. I had very specific desires for my sperm donor. Tall, blond hair, blue eyes, dagger-sharp wit. A good personality tacked on to all of that meant my perfect man was pretty much nonexistent, save one particular man who was decidedly off-limits. As much as I had ruminated over the possibility of settling, I couldn’t deny that I was repeatedly struck by a single thought: my boss would be the perfect father.

To make matters worse, my infatuation with Jensen made it difficult for me to simply ignore his moping around. He was always so cheerful, but that was the one day a year that he was especially cold and aloof. Very few of his employees knew the reason for his shift in attitude, though he chose to spend most of his day locked away in his office. The poor guy didn’t even feel as if he could face me the year I started working here. That was three years ago, and I could even admit to myself that I would have found his behavior rather…odd.

Over the following years, however, Jensen chose to let me in. It only made sense, I suppose; I was his personal secretary, and the man, for all his charm, wit and good looks, had trouble making friends outside of the office. He was so work-oriented that he could scarcely focus on anything else, even after everyone had clocked out. That was perhaps a troubling fact about him: he never mentally clocked out. I could respect his passion for his work, but a small part of me wished he would notice other things that were right under his nose.

For example, my painfully obvious crush on him. I knew a man like him could never see anything in his secretary, but I still held onto the hope that he would fall totally and irrevocably in love with me. Jensen was tall, with gorgeous blond locks and ocean-blue eyes that women went wild for. Truthfully, it was a wonder he wasn’t married to some lingerie model or something equally suitable for a billionaire.

A part of me felt guilty for thinking about how hot my billionaire boss was, especially obsessing over the idea while he was deep in mourning. That day marked the anniversary of his father’s death, and God help me, I should not have memorized the exact amount of time that had passed. It had been five years since the elder Elliott had died, and it clearly hadn’t been enough time to mend Jensen’s wounds. I suppose one doesn’t get over losing a father easily, though I would have been the one exception to the rule. My father ditched my mother and me before I was even old enough to walk. I couldn’t even remember his face.

By contrast, Jensen and Papa Elliott had been closer than most father-son duos. In the few times I had talked to Jensen about his father, he had described him as a wonderful man. I had no reason to doubt him, though I’ll admit it struck me as somewhat odd that the world seemed to weigh so heavily on Jensen’s shoulders. The weight only seemed to grow with every passing moment, and it all came to a head on days like this. To know Jensen was to know the happy-go-lucky person he was. It wasn’t an act; most days he was genuinely happy. To know the entirety of him, however, was to know the burden he carried.

There was also the matter of Jensen’s younger brother. Their family had anticipated that Jeffrey Elliott would be the one to carry on the family name. In other words, they expected him to live a long life with a large family. Things rarely went as planned, however.

Six months prior—also to the day, in a bizarre and terrible stroke of luck—Jensen’s younger brother had passed away at the age of twenty-seven. It had been a long time coming, and he’d suffered greatly in the last few years of his life—an agonizing battle with cancer that he ultimately lost. Jensen had confided in me that he had not been present for his brother’s death, and it was the one thing he would never forgive himself for.

As much as I tried to assure Jensen that he had done his best, that his family knew how much he loved them, he never felt as if he were enough. When Jeffrey died, so did the thoughts of carrying on the Elliott name. “It wouldn’t be the same”, he often told me. I couldn’t blame him for enjoying the single life, but a small, selfish part of me wished that things were different. It’s not like I wanted him to carry the burden of continuing the family name, but if he already had the intentions…

Shaking my head, I internally berated myself for being so self-absorbed. In spite of my adoration for the man, the throb between my thighs that became apparent every time I was fixed under his stare, I was Jensen’s friend first and foremost. Even the job came second, if I were being honest. That wasn’t to say my job wasn’t valuable, especially considering the fact that I would likely end up a single mother if I ever found a suitable sperm donor. As a matter of fact, Jensen had just given me enough of a raise to encourage my pursuit of other options besides a conventional family.

While a part of me still ached for a man to hold me in his strong arms at night, I was running out of time. Some stubborn, instinctual part of my mind insisted that I get pregnant by the time I turned thirty, and my ovaries were working in overdrive, sending sharp pains through my chest every time I saw the smiling face of an infant or toddler. At one point, I thought I was dying, but no. I was struck with baby fever through and through.

Hysterical is a word I would use to describe the place I was in. Not ha-ha hysterical, but driven so mad by the thought of spending my life childless that I was torn between laughing and sobbing at any given moment.

I took a calming breath, trying to focus my attention on the work that I was, as mentioned, receiving ample pay for. I wasn’t getting a paycheck for having a nervous breakdown on the clock, so I resolved to let the misery out as soon as I arrived at my apartment. My empty, lonely apartment.

Slamming my hands on my desk, I pushed away from it and rose from my plush office chair. I walked toward the window, staring out at the San Diego skyline. GlobaPharm Headquarters was by far the tallest building in the city, and looking down, I could barely make out the people on the streets below. I wish it had put things in perspective, but it only served to heighten the ache in my heart. I felt so alone, up in this towering building.

One thing kept me steady in that grim moment of not knowing where my future would lead. It was a simple thing, likely laughable for anyone else I may have divulged it to: the fact that Jensen was just in the next room was all it took to bring me down from a ten to a two on the anxiety scale; well, maybe not a two…more like a low six. It was better than being on the verge of sobbing, anyway.

I inhaled another calming breath, closing my eyes and focusing on the moment. Once I was calm enough to open them, I walked back toward my desk. Sinking into my chair, I let out a frustrated sigh.

It was bad enough to be lovesick. It was even worse when accompanied with that strong dose of baby fever. I took a long sip from my water bottle, focusing my attention back on my computer monitor. It was nearly lunch, which gave me an idea that was paradoxically both horrible and fantastic: maybe seeing Jensen would cheer us both up a bit.