Sincerely, His Secretary

The morning sun glinted off the tall glass windows of B&B Incorporated, turning the front of the building into a mirror of the sky. Vanessa Carter tugged at her blazer, took a deep breath, and stepped through the revolving doors. Her resume was folded neatly in her purse. Her nerves? Not so much. She had imagined a quiet little office. Some dull beige walls, maybe a sad potted plant in the corner. What she got instead was an actual lobby fountain and a receptionist with cheekbones so sharp they could slice paper. — Miss Carter? — the receptionist asked, her voice smooth as silk and twice as expensive. — Yes, that’s me. Vanessa Carter. I have an interview for the accounting position, — she replied, trying not to look too dazzled by the place. — Mr. Brown will see you now. Eighteenth floor. You can take the elevator on the left. Vanessa stepped inside the elevator, her heart doing cartwheels. Breathe. You’re here for a job. Just a job. You can totally fake being confident for twenty minutes. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to reveal a surprisingly cozy office space. Rich wooden panels, leather-bound books, and a giant aquarium. And behind the desk — Robert Brown himself. He wasn’t what she expected. No icy stare, no suit that screamed billionaire overlord. Instead, he looked like a man who hosted barbecues on Sundays and flirted with the cashier at the grocery store. A white shirt, sleeves rolled, silver hair slicked back, a half-drunk espresso on the desk, and a tie thrown over a coat rack like it had lost a fight. — Ms. Carter, — he said, standing up and shaking her hand. His grip was firm, and his eyes sparkled with something dangerously close to mischief. — You’re early. I like that. Means you’re either eager or desperate. — Maybe a little of both, — she said, surprising herself. Robert laughed. — You’ll do just fine here. He didn’t look at her resume. Not once. Instead, he asked about her favorite movies, her thoughts on jazz, and whether pineapple belonged on pizza. Vanessa blinked. — I’m sorry… is this part of the interview? — No, — Robert said cheerfully. — The interview was over when you walked in. I just wanted to know if you’re human. And interesting. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. — Look, Vanessa. I’ve got a position open, but not for accounting. Our head secretary just retired and frankly, the front desk feels too damn quiet. I need someone sharp, funny, unshakable. You fit the bill. — But I… applied for the accounting job. — And you’d probably be great at it. But I have a feeling you’d be even better at running this office like a tight ship — and making sure my son doesn’t burn the place down. That stopped her cold. — Your… son? — Thomas. My deputy. Don’t worry. You’ll hate him at first. Everyone does. She blinked again. — Is this how you usually hire people? — Only the best ones. Robert stood and extended his hand again. — So, what do you say, Miss Carter? Want to take a detour from spreadsheets and try something dangerously close to madness? Her mind screamed run, but her mouth said: — Sure. Why not. He clapped once, beaming. — Good girl. You start Monday.