TRAPPED WITH MY ICE KING BOSS

Maya Chen had never been on a business trip before, she was so happy she would be going to represent her company, not until she got to Chicago. First, her suitcase handle had been broken earlier on at the airport, so she was dragging it like a wounded animal. Second, a very friendly taxi driver had talked to her for forty-five minutes about his daughter's goldfish which is very tiring. And third — The third was about to get worse. She got down from the taxi, and was awed. Suite 1201 of The Whitmore Hotel was not what Junior Analysts from Finance usually got. Junior Analysts from Finance got a sad little room with a view of a brick wall and a free mint if you were lucky. This was a penthouse. Floor-to-ceiling windows showing all of Chicago. A real kitchen with marble counters. A couch that probably cost more than her monthly rent in Queens. And one bedroom. With one very large, very inviting bed. Maya dropped her broken suitcase. "There has to be a mistake," she whispered to no one. "They upgraded me?" Maybe Finance finally appreciated her. Maybe her boss had finally seen her report on Q3 savings and thought, 'You know what, let's give the invisible girl the penthouse.' She felt a little thrill. She kicked off her wet snow boots, left them by the door, and walked into the apartment like she owned it. Which is why she didn't notice the man's coat hanging by the door. She opened the bedroom door to put her bag down and— Someone was in the kitchen?. A man, in a grey t-shirt and sweatpants, standing at her kitchen counter, drinking coffee from her kitchen mug. Maya screamed. The man screamed — a much deeper, more dignified scream — and spilled coffee all over the counter. "What are you doing in my apartment?!" Maya shouted, grabbing the closest thing as a weapon, which turned out to be a decorative throw pillow. Julian Hayes, Head of Marketing, the Ice King of Titan Corp, the man everyone avoided in the hallways, stared at her over his coffee mug, equally horrified. "Maya? What are you doing in MY apartment?" Time stopped. Maya's brain, which was usually very good with numbers, tried to do math that didn't make sense. Julian Hayes?. In her penthouse. Wearing a t-shirt that said COLUMBIA ROWING?. Holding coffee? she questioned "I — this is my room," she stammered. "1201. The email said 1201. Suite 1201, Maya Chen." He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "1201," he read from his phone. "Suite 1201, Julian Hayes. Check-in today. Complimentary upgrade due to system overbooking." They looked at each other. "Oh no," Maya said. "Oh no," Julian echoed. Maya fumbled for her phone, hands shaking, and called the front desk. Julian did the same on his phone. They both got the same harried receptionist. "Yes, Ms. Chen — yes, I see — oh. Oh! That is — that is a Concur system error. It merged two standard bookings into our last penthouse. I am so sorry!" "So you have another room for me, right?" Maya said, hopeful. A pause. Typing. Then: "I... I have nothing. Nothing at all in the city, ma'am. There's a large tech conference in the city, every hotel within thirty miles is fully booked. And we cannot move you tonight anyway, roads are icing over." Maya looked at Julian. Julian looked at Maya. He was on his phone too, getting the exact same speech, but with more apologies because he was a department head. He hung up first. "There are no rooms," he said flatly. "There have to be rooms," Maya said. "I will sleep in the lobby. I will sleep in the conference room. I will sleep in the —" "You don't mean that right? It is freezing dead outside" As if on cue, the big windows rattled. Outside, the light snow that had been falling when she landed had turned into thick, sideways white sheets. Chicago had disappeared. There was only white. Maya sat down heavily on the couch. The very expensive couch. Her dream business trip was turning into a nightmare scenario she had specifically prayed would never happen: Trapped with the scariest boss in the company. Julian, on the other side, looked just as uncomfortable. He ran his hand through his hair — his perfect, usually well arranged hair was messy, like he'd just showered. He wasn't wearing his usual suit and tie. He looked... human. And tired. "Okay," he said, after a long silence. He put his coffee down. "We are both adults. Professionals. We can make this work." "How?" Maya's voice came out smaller than she wanted. "We split it. Like roommates." He walked to the middle of the living room and made a dramatic karate chop in the air. "This is the border. My side, your side. You take the bedroom tonight, I take the couch. We switch tomorrow. The kitchen is neutral territory. Bathroom — we knock. Loudly. And we stay out of each other's way." It was so absurd, Maya almost laughed. "You want to draw an imaginary line down the middle of a luxury penthouse? Like we're in fifth grade?" "Do you have a better idea?" "I — no." "Good. So, neutral territory includes the coffee machine. I already made coffee. You want some? It's terrible anyways. The pods here are terrible." And that was so unexpected — Julian Hayes? admitting coffee was terrible? Hell no Maya did laugh. A short, surprised puff. "Okay," she said. "Okay, fine. Neutral territory. And... I'm sorry I tried to hit you with a pillow." "You have good instincts. That pillow could have killed?" For a second, just a second, he smiled. Not his tight office smile. A real one. Maya felt her shoulders drop a tiny inch. Maybe she wouldn't die. Maybe he wouldn't fire her for existing in his space. Maybe she could survive this night. "Deal," she said. She stood up and walked to the imaginary line. "I, Maya Chen of the Finance department, solemnly swear to stay by my side." "I, Julian Hayes of the Marketing department, solemnly swear to not be creepy on his side." They looked at each other across the invisible border. It was ridiculous. It was awkward. It was — _BEEP BEEP BEEP! BEEP BEEP BEEP!_ Both their phones rang at the same time. Loud, emergency-alert loud. Maya jumped for hers. “WHAT!!!” both of them screamed.