Page 1 of Saved By the CEO

ONE

The world is… dying?

That’s the only thing running through my head as I watch the reporter on the screen. The world is dying, has been for a while, apparently, and I’ve missed it.

“Crazy, right? This new virus?”

“Hm?” I turn to Annie. “What virus?”

She gives me a look that tells me I just said something stupid, then gestures to the screen. “The virus they’re talking about in the news report we’ve been watching for the last few minutes. Does he lobotomize you, too? Is that part of the job description?”

I wish.

Being an executive assistant is not for the weak. My boss’s expectations are through the roof. No, scratch that. They’ve left the stratosphere and rounded the moon. Cutting out a part of my brain so I can stop worrying about my performance and Mr. Bennett’s scrutiny sounds very tempting. Just imagine: no Sunday Scaries, no dread every time he calls me into the office, no more restless nights spent turning in bed like a rotisserie chicken.

Heaven. Nirvana.

I turn to the news report again, trying to actually listen this time.

“It is believed to be a result of the ongoing fertility crisis…”The anchor keeps returning to that, the fertility crisis. I’ve been so preoccupied with being Mr. Bennett’s assistant that I’ve missed the fact that the world is literally dying.

Come to think of it, I can’t even remember the last time I saw a baby. I see toddlers every now and then, but a baby? Like a newborn, fresh out of the womb baby? Must have been years.

“You zoned out again, didn’t you?” Annie, my roommate and only friend, correctly points out. I nod as a grin spreads across her freckled face. “Then I get the honor of telling you about this lovely little virus that’s been going around.”

I wait as she pauses for dramatic effect.

“It’s a fucking virus.”

“Yeah, I got that. But like, what does it do?”

“No, you don’t get it. It’s afuckingvirus. Like sex. Intercourse. Making love.”

I blink.

“People get sick and can only be cured by”—she waggles her fingers—“the big O.”

“Are you twelve?”

“I’m serious. Look.” She points to the screen.

The news anchor speaks over a generic video of scientists in lab coats. “The virus has been spreading among women of childbearing age at a pace that has left scientists stumped. Over 30,000 cases have been reported in the U.S. so far, forcing hospitals across the country to prepare special rooms to administer the antidote.”

“The antidote is fucking,” Annie helpfully adds.

I frown, eyes still glued to the screen. “She hasn’t said anything about sex. Maybe you misunderstood because of all thetalk about the fertility crisis—did you know that was going on, by the way?”

Annie once again looks at me like I’m the dumbest person who ever walked the earth. “Are you, like, sheltered? You seriously need to get a new job, Car. And I’m not misunderstanding anything. Look.” She pulls up her phone to show me a news article.

I grab the phone and start reading. The article says the virus causes symptoms such as fatigue, fever, and headaches. The symptoms worsen over time and will eventually lead to hospitalization, then death.Yikes.It’s spreading fast, yada yada yada. Ah, there: The only known antidote is achieving orgasm with a biologically assigned partner.

“That sounds like something straight out of a porno.” I reread the sentence. “Wait, what do they mean by ‘biologically assigned partner’?”

Annie sits up straighter. “That’s the most fucked-up part. The only way to make symptoms go away—temporarily, might I add—is to have an orgasm. You think, ‘Great, I’ll just have a date with my vibrator, and I’ll be fine.’ But no. This virus is a picky little bitch. You have to be brought to orgasm by a specific person. Someone you’re super compatible with, fertility-wise.” She holds up a finger. “So it’s not only picky. It’s homophobic as well.”

She keeps ranting, and I want to listen to her. Truly, I do, because this is absolutely crazy and very fascinating. But I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, and I know what that means. I shoot Annie an apologetic smile as I fish out my phone and stand to leave the room. “Gotta take this.”

“Tell him he sucks,” she shouts after me as I close the door to my bedroom.