On the 27th floor of the Bartley Tower which had a panoramic view of the city's skyline, Kiefer Bartley was seated behind his large glass desk. Behind him, rays of light penetrated the walls of the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The spacious office was luxuriously decorated.

A bespectacled woman who had just stepped out of the elevator and was heading to his office caught his eye.

If not for the name card around her neck, one could be excused if they thought the woman dressed in the shapeless, ankle-length dress had lost her way.

Yet, she was one of his executives.

The muddy brown daisy granny dress buttoned up to her neck swished around her ankles as she walked. The only skin that could be seen as the skin of the hands and face.

A pair of plain black pumps that had seen better days covered her feet.

Though she wore no make-up and had thick bushy brows, she was a natural beauty. Her Afro frizzy hair was done in a bun.

Amused, he wondered where she was when she was being taught fashion in the girl's locker rooms.

Probably with her nose tucked away in a science book, he thought.

He leisurely poured himself a glass of Glenlivet whiskey as he watched his quality control director walk toward his office.

She hesitated for a second before reaching up and knocking on the glass door.

He brought the glass to his lips and took a sip before he replied."Come in."

An his reply, the glass door slid open and she stepped in.

A subtle whiff of freshly cut flowers filled his nostrils. It was a comforting scent.

"Madame Q and C," he greeted her, leaning forward to shut down his computer," Welcome."

Quincy Ntele swallowed hard, tugging at the long thick sleeves of her dress.

"Thank you," she replied softly.

He beckoned her to sit down.

"I hope this does not bother you," said he, raising a glass. 'Would you care for a drink?

She shook her head and offered him a smile of apology by pulling the chair to sit, placing her clammy palms on her knees.

Facing the Omnigod with a perfectly carved face, she had good reasons to be nervous.

Her reason for coming here was rather unorthodox.

She bit the corners of her mouth while giving herself a mental pep talk.

"I...I don't drink," she replied, her voice quiet and melodious.

Despite her hideous attire, he had to admit that her voice was pleasant.

"Of course, you don't," he muttered behind his tumbler, laughing inwardly, his eyes wandering to the hour on the stainless steel Cartier chronograph watch on his wrist.

Twelve minutes to one O'clock.

He should have been out for lunch with his friends and Sierra by now.

Sierra. Sierra. Sierra.

The mere thought of the sexy bombshell Sierra was giving him a boner.

He had been trying for a while now to get her to do the horizontal tangle, but she had been playing hard to get.

He was never the kind of guy who went after his partners. Women flocked to him like moths to a flame.

She was new and he liked the challenge.

"So let's get down to business. How are things at the factory?"

During the last month, she had requested an audience with him and, according to his secretary, she had been very persistent.

He finally gave her some time instead of going out for lunch with the guys and Sierra.

He hoped her visit would be worthwhile since he did not understand the urgency of the situation.

The last time he checked, everything was going well in the factory.

"No, I mean... yes, yes," she mumbled.

Kiefer's thick brows shot up. He looked at her, his eyes filled with curiosity.

Leaning back in his chair, he took a sip of the twelve-year-old whisky.

The silence stretched for a while with him counting the seconds until she left his office and she, anxiously worrying her hands.

"It's personal. I wanted to speak to you about something personal."

"Which is?''

Quincy opened her mouth to express her intention of seeking an audience with him, but she was unable to find the courage to utter a single word.

She glanced beneath her long, thick lashes at the man sitting across her.

He had smooth dark chocolate skin and a perfectly toned body, which properly filled his slim-fit gray dove shirt.

He leaned forward, thinking if it were personal, it wouldn't take long. Maybe he could make it for lunch in time.

She was probably struggling, so it wouldn't do her any harm to help her out.

"Is everything alright at home? Did you need to take time away from work?

He knew that she always put work before her private life. Perhaps this is why she had trouble saying so.

Quincy looked up at him nervously. If only he knew.

She was desperate and her despair had brought her to this decision a week ago.

Although she had already made her decision, she did not have the guts to approach him.

As she had walked over to his office, she had thought she was ready and she could do this, but as she sat before him, her courage flew out of the window, and she was a step away from bolting out of the door.

However, at the thought of returning to what awaited her at home, she ensured that her butt remained glued to the seat

Kiefer waited patiently in the hope that she would open up about her troubles at home and they would be done. But the woman shook her." Of course not, she replied, pushing back her thick tortoise-shell spectacles.

"You want a loan perhaps? You are one of the company's hardest working people. I'm more than happy to sign any paper "

Ha! That was so funny. A loan? No this was bigger. If only he could let her talk.

"A vacation perhaps?"

Quincy sighed dejectedly, upon noticing his captivating deep brown eyes, impatiently wander towards his wristwatch.

He probably has to be somewhere taking care of something important, she thought.

She could only imagine whatever was so urgent, involved some leggy and curvy woman.

Like Sierra.

The thought of the charming drop-dead gorgeous blonde who had become the darling of almost all the men in the company knocked her already low self-esteem down a few pegs.

She cast her gaze to her lap where she worried her hands. The feeling of wanting to shrink within herself overwhelmed her.

She almost bolted and aborted the mission.

It wasn't a secret that Kiefer was interested in courting the beautiful paralegal. Rumor had it, they might have already hooked up.

That said, she was been ridiculous. How could she compare with someone like Sierra who was perfect in every sense of the word?

She almost rose to her feet, struggling to formulate an apology for wasting his time.

However, when she opened her mouth, the words that came through her throat had nothing to do with apologizing.

" I want... no..." she said, shaking her head, closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath. It was now or never because her marriage was depending upon the success of the discussion. "I need you to make love to me," she finally told him loudly.

A burning flush crept past her neck to her cheeks as her hands tightly clenched the skirt of her dress.

If not for her melanin, she was sure turning beet red from embarrassment would gave been a sight.

Quincy could only begin to imagine the look on his face as the pin drop silence fell upon the room and stretched for several seconds.

Kiefer nearly choked on his whiskey. He stared at her incredulously.

To say he had misheard would have been a classic denial tactic. He sure as hell heard it clearly.

His third glass of whiskey on the rocks she'd found him drinking had nothing to do with it.

In all his thirty-seven years of life on earth, he had thought he had seen and heard it all.

Yes, he did get his unwarranted attention; the age and size of women did vary, but one thing they all had in common was their vanity.

He honestly couldn't say she possessed that.

She was the epitome of the medieval era reloaded.

He was propositioned all the time not that he was complaining, he did like the company of the fair sex.

The simpler they were and higher their vainglory, the better it was for him.

But her? She was the first.

"I'm sorry, I don't seem to have heard you right," he said.

Quincy slowly opened her eyes and held his gaze."Of course, you did. Well?''

He could not believe she sort an answer to the absurd question.

She was crazy. How could he honestly do what she was asking, her of all people? Last, he checked, she was married.

He was mildly outraged.

Yes, he did have a take on women of all ages and sizes. However, he too had limits. He liked them young and dolled up.

She just did not meet the criteria for his expectations.

The idea gave him the creeps. Good God.

He ran a hand across his face.

"Look, Quincy," he began, "You are a good-looking woman," he told her truthfully. There was no doubt about that. With the natural look she had going on, it was easy to miss out on her beauty when she was swimming with the vogue girls," And I believe you already found your God-destined man."

"Don't get so full of yourself. I'm not asking you to marry me and forsake all others. Lord knows the woman you will say those vows to will need to have fried brains and an icebox for a heart."

Kiefer raised his eyes, brows at her. He felt the corners of his mouth curve into a smile.

Her assessment of him and his 'future wife' was hilariously funny. And the crazy thing was he liked her sassy mouth.

Nobody ever called his bull to his face.

"Now that's a very interesting theory."

"It doesn't take smart brains to assess that," she told him irritation in her voice.

She could not believe how loose her mouth had become. She was not to speak without filters.

Groaning inwardly, she gave herself a mental kick. It was not how she had planned for this meeting to go.

In her mind, he had jumped at the opportunity. They would meet at a luxurious hotel. She would dress seductively after meticulous grooming.

In her fantasy, he would not be able to resist her charms. Which when she thought about it, were none existent.

"Ouch. I'm very offended madam Q n C."

"Why should you be? It's the truth."

"Yeah, well, like I was saying -" he began but was cut off by his ringing phone. It was the call from one of his friends who were out with Sierra.

Quincy sighed at the failure of it all. She could push and insist, but the five minutes of humiliation were enough.

"Excuse me, I have to take this in private," he said, studying her in amusement," It will only take a few minutes. "

Sighing dejectedly, Quincy nodded, stood up, and headed to the door.

"Why?" he asked just as she reached for the handle of the door.

He put the phone away. He could always call the boys back.

Quincy turned back to stare at her boss. He was leaning forward, his arms resting on the glass table.

"Just," she mumbled.

He smiled and shook his head. '' I for a second do not believe that. Last I checked you were a happily married woman. Happily married women don't go about propositioning their single male bosses."

Quincy mentally cringed while wishing she could find a hole and bury herself in it.

"I at least need to know the reason why I will be committing one of the greatest sins."

Kiefer watched as she fidgeted with her clothing and lifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Quincy sucked in a deep breath. She straightened her back, jutted out her chin, and said, "I want to have a baby.''

Kiefer slumped back in his seat.

Her statement had his facial features alternating between being confounded and shocked.

"Excuse me?"

She pulled a worn paper out of her pockets and spread it out on the table.

"Look, I know this is unorthodox and more humiliating than I would care to admit, but am desperate please help me."

"Why? Is your husband shooting blanks?"

"What does it matter? Will you help me or what?"

Kiefer fixated his eyes on the paper before him. It looked like it had been folded one too many times. The writings on it were barely visible. He took his time to read what she had scribbled down. It was some form of contract.

"So you want to have a baby from me and then raise him with your husband?"

"If you do manage to get me pregnant, yes."

"And where does that leave me?"

"What do you mean?" she asked her voice a little panicky.

"If I do manage to get you pregnant, that will be my baby too."

She shook her head and walked over to him. She reached for the paper and pointed out a number." It says here that you will relinquish all your parental rights."

"What makes you think that I would want my child to be raised by another man? I would want to be a part of my child's life."

She vigorously shook her head.

"No. You can't demand that."

"Why?" he asked mildly amused. "A child has every right to know his parents."

"He will have parents. I will raise him with my husband. Why are you trying to complicate things? You never even want to have kids in the first place."

"Says who?"

She crossed her arms on her chest and raised her eyebrows at him.

He chuckled amused as he took a sip of his whiskey. It was no secret he had no desire to start his own family. Six months back he had uttered the words during an interview.