Clinging to her purse like a shield, Evelyn enters the company building through the glass doors.

She can still feel the fresh, crisp morning air on her skin, but her cheeks are burning hotter than the summer sun.

As she puts her fingers to her cheeks in an attempt to remove the stubborn blush, she bites her bottom lip to prevent the smile from spreading across her face.

John is to blame. Well, not entirely, but mostly.

He had stayed at her place for the night, and what had begun as a peaceful meal had evolved into hours of whispered chats, laughter, and, well, just being the devoted couple they...