The Assistant

By: Elle Brace

I glared at him before turning away and crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly.


I continued to ignore him as I felt him slide closer to me as the driver started the car. His hand leaned across my torso and I whipped my head to see the smirk plastered firmly on his lips as he leaned forward, our noses almost touching.

After a few more moments, I heard a muted zipping noise fill the silence within the car before I felt a light weight being pressed against my body. Adrian clicked the seatbelt into place before smirking and pecking my cheek.

“I need my assistant to stay safe at all times,” he said, before slowly moving back to his seat and clicking away at his phone. I bit my lip and frowned at him curiously. Why was he being so nice?

“Where are we going?” I asked after a while.

“To eat,” he replied bluntly, still tapping at his phone.

“Really? I thought we were going to a circus!” I exclaimed sarcastically. He stopped looking at his phone to meet my eyes and glare, before looking back down.

I rolled me eyes and looked out the window and sighed. That lasted long. I thought to myself as silence consumed the car.


“Mr. Kingston. I can’t even afford to use the bathroom in this place,” I muttered in awe once the driver dropped us off. I should’ve expected it – Adrian Kingston bringing me to a five-star restaurant where a glass of tap water was worth $30.

“Why do you care?” Adrian frowned. “I’m the one paying. And call me Adrian outside of the office. Mr. Kingston is my father.” He took my hand in his and led me inside.

I looked down at my plain grey business skirt and white shirt and grimaced. These clothes were nowhere near good enough to be in if I was eating in this place. My hair was down in no-frills curls as well. I sighed and kept my gaze on my feet as the waiter led us to a private booth at the end of the restaurant.

I could feel people – women in particular – glaring at me like I was something unwanted stuck to their shoe.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asked once we were seated.

“I’m just not very comfortable eating here,” I muttered, glancing back at the people occupying tables within the restaurant. Adrian must’ve noticed my brief glance, because I turned around to find him glaring at the women throwing daggers in our direction.

“Ignore them. They think they’re on top of the world because they have a bank account that’s full. It’s not as full as mine, so you don’t need to worry.” He reassured me before opening up the leather menus that were placed in front of us.

I opened my copy and scanned over the menu briefly. The writing was in gold and carved against the leather in a cursive font. “Won’t I get in trouble for going over my half an hour break?” I asked as I scanned the seafood section, cringing at the price of the caviar.

“I’m your boss,” Adrian murmured distractedly, preferring to concentrate on the menu. “You’re with me, so of course you’re not going to get into trouble.”

“Oh, right,” I laughed. “Sorry, I forgot for a moment. So is there a particular reason as to why we’re here?” I asked curiously as my eyes landed on a burger in the menu and I grinned. I looked up when Adrian didn’t reply and found him smirking at me.

“I take it you’ve found your order?” he chuckled, and I felt my cheeks warm up and the grin slowly start to slip off my face.

I nodded briefly and looked down at the table, waiting for my blush to fade.

“I want to discuss what you’re wearing to the event on Saturday. There’ll be a lot of press there, so I expect it to be something brand-named. I’ve put $2,000 in your account for you to find something decent. Remember,” he said as he called the waiter over, “its black and white themed.”

My eyes widened in shock. I was still stuck on $2,000. I found myself repeating the figure in a hushed tone, feeling completely gobsmacked.

Adrian’s eyes met my widened ones and he raised an eyebrow. “Is it not enough? That’s fine. I’ll add another-”

“No! No. It’s plenty! That’s practically what I used to earn a year!” I exclaimed in shock. Adrian replied by giving me a confused look before telling his order to the waiter, then fell silent as I did the same.

“Please don’t freak out at everything we talk about from now on. Now, I’ll get someone to do your hair so you’re not late…” He launched into his expectations for the night, and I found myself listening intently, laughing at the occasional jokes he made and scoffing at the inappropriate comments he made about my body as we ate our lunch.

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