Emily Meyers walked into the office with a purpose. She was armed with her laptop, three spreadsheets ready to go, and a resolve to get through the day without letting Luke Edmunds or his nonsense derail her. But the moment she stepped into the building, she knew that was wishful thinking.

The entire office was a disaster zone of childish chaos.

Someone had set up a table filled with Gerber baby food jars, bowls of banana pudding, and little cubes of grilled chicken. Juice boxes littered the desks, their straws already poked in and bent at odd angles. Near the breakroom, a plastic ball pit had appeared overnight, and several coworkers were laughing and throwing balls at each other like unruly toddlers.

A banner overhead read: "Welcome to Childhood Day! Embrace Your Inner Child!"

Emily clenched her teeth. Of course, it was Luke. She could already hear his obnoxious laugh echoing from somewhere nearby.

Her desk wasn't much better. Someone had left a juice box half-squashed on her chair, its sticky contents soaking into the fabric. She set her things down carefully, muttering under her breath.

"Why does this keep happening?"

She didn't get an answer—not from her coworkers, who were busy spooning banana pudding into each other's mouths like they were in preschool, and certainly not from the universe. She sat down, cleaned the juice mess with a tissue, and opened her laptop. Maybe, just maybe, she could block out the chaos and get some work done.

And then something hit her on the side of her head.

"Ow!" she yelped, rubbing her temple. She looked down and saw the culprit: a pacifier. A neon green pacifier, of all things, had landed on her desk.

Emily picked it up, turning it over in her hand. "Who throws a pacifier?" she muttered. "What is this, a daycare?"

Nearby, someone giggled. She whipped her head around but couldn't identify the culprit in the sea of overgrown children. Her suspicions, however, were already laser-focused.

"Luke," she growled, standing and clutching the pacifier like it was evidence in a criminal investigation.

She found him near the ball pit, laughing as he tossed brightly colored plastic balls at a group of coworkers. He was wearing an oversized bib that read "Little Luke" and holding a sippy cup filled with what she assumed was orange juice.

"LUKE!" she shouted, storming toward him.

He turned, his grin widening. "Ah, Emily! Welcome to Childhood Day! Want a juice box?"

"No, I don't want a juice box," she snapped, holding up the pacifier. "I want to know why this hit me in the head."

He squinted at the pacifier, then laughed. "Looks like someone's throwing tantrums. Guess they couldn't handle nap time."

"Don't play dumb," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You're behind this, aren't you?"

Luke held up his hands, feigning innocence. "Me? I've been here the whole time, minding my own business."

"Minding your own business?" she repeated incredulously, gesturing to the ball pit. "This entire office looks like a nursery, and you're standing there like the self-proclaimed king of toddlers!"

He shrugged, taking a sip from his sippy cup. "It's called fun, Emily. You should try it sometime."

"This isn't fun," she snapped. "It's disruptive and unprofessional."

"Unprofessional?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Tell that to Janet from accounting. She just beat everyone at musical chairs."

Emily stared at him, her patience wearing thin. "You think this is cute? Throwing pacifiers at people? Turning the office into a daycare?"

"Honestly?" he said, grinning. "Yeah, it's pretty adorable."

She stepped closer, her voice low and dangerous. "You're lucky I don't throw this pacifier at your head."

Luke smirked, leaning in slightly. "Do it. I dare you."

For a moment, she considered it. But instead, she shoved the pacifier into his hand and turned on her heel, determined not to let him see how much he was getting under her skin.

Back at her desk, Emily tried to focus, but the noise was relentless. Someone had started a pudding-eating contest, and the sound of slurping and cheering made it impossible to concentrate. She pulled out her phone, debating whether to record the chaos as evidence for HR.

Her phone buzzed with a notification.

Luke Edmunds: Instagram Story

She groaned, opening it.

The video showed her yelling at him, the pacifier in her hand. The caption read: "Breaking news: Emily Meyers throws a tantrum at Childhood Day. #GrowUpEmily "

Her blood boiled as she typed out a reply:
"You're unbearable."

His response came almost immediately:
"And you're predictable, Emilykins. "

She threw her phone onto her desk, glaring at the empty juice box someone had just tossed nearby.

The feud wasn't over—not by a long shot. But as Emily sat there, plotting her next move, she vowed that Luke—and his bib—would regret underestimating her.

Because if he thought this was the end, he was sorely mistaken.