CHAPTER 11
922 Words
Anna’s Internal Monologue
“He thinks he’s won. He thinks he can tame me by putting me in a pencil skirt and making me file papers. He wants me under his nose 24/7 so he can keep an eye on his 'investment.' Well, two can play that game.”
I sat up, a slow smirk spreading across my face. If Jim wanted an assistant, I would give him the most unforgettable assistant he’s ever had. I’ll show up, I’ll take his money, and I’ll make sure his "professional" life becomes just as chaotic as my personal one.
I grabbed my phone and texted the group chat.
Anna: Change of plans, girls. I’m starting a ‘new project’ tomorrow. But don’t worry… I’m getting that bag. 💅✨
I stood up and walked over to my walk-in closet. If I was going to be a corporate slave for a day to fund my club night, I was going to do it in style. I pulled out a sharp, cream-colored blazer and five-inch heels.
"You want a worker, Jim? Fine. But you’re going to pay a very high price for my 'assistance'."
I headed back downstairs, my heels clicking sharply against the marble. I didn't barge in this time. I leaned against the doorframe of the study, crossing my arms. Jim looked up, one eyebrow arched in curiosity.
"Change of heart already?" he asked, his voice dripping with that smug, calm tone I hated.
"I’ll be there at 8:00 AM sharp," I said, my voice like ice. "But I want a sign-on bonus. Upfront. In cash."
He chuckled, reaching for his checkbook. "Deal, Anna. Welcome to the real world."
The real world? Please. I’m just visiting.I grabbed the envelope of cash he slid across the desk, the weight of it slightly soothing the sting of my bruised pride. I didn't say thank you—he didn't deserve it. I just turned on my heel and marched back to my room, locking the door behind me.
I dumped the money onto my bed. It was enough for the club, a new pair of shoes, and maybe that designer bag I’d been eyeing, but the cost was high: my freedom. If I was going to be an "assistant," I wasn't going to be the kind that actually organized files. I spent the next three hours scrolling through "Office Chic" hashtags, picking out an outfit that screamed I’m the boss’s wife rather than I’m here to take notes.
The Next Morning: 7:45 AM
The sun was way too bright for this time of day. I stood in front of the full-length mirror, smoothing out a silk skirt and adjusting my blazer. I looked expensive. I looked capable of ruining Jim’s peace of mind.
I headed downstairs where Jim was already finishing his espresso, looking way too energized for a man who spent his life looking at spreadsheets.
"You're actually on time," he noted, checking his watch. "I’m impressed."
"Don't get used to it," I snapped, grabbing a croissant from the table. "Where's the car?"
"The driver is waiting. And Anna?" He stood up, towering over me with that annoying, confident smirk. "Try not to fire anyone on your first day. That’s my job."
The Company: "Jim’s Empire"
The building was a glass-and-steel monster in the center of the city. As we walked through the lobby, heads turned. I held my chin high. They probably thought I was a high-profile client or a model. Little did they know I was just here to earn my clubbing money.
We reached the top floor, and Jim led me to a small, sleek desk right outside his massive office.
"This is your station," he said.
"My station? It looks like a cubicle."
"It’s an executive assistant’s desk," he corrected. "Your first task is simple. There’s a stack of contracts on that tablet. I need them categorized by date and department. Also, I have a meeting at ten. No interruptions unless the building is on fire."
He stepped into his office and closed the door, leaving me staring at a screen full of legal jargon.
The Rebellion
I sat down, my long nails clicking uselessly against the glass desk. I opened the tablet, but instead of "categorizing," I opened my group chat.
Anna: I’m inside the lion’s den. 🦁
Bella: OMG, did you see the intern yet? Is he hot?
Christy: Focus, Anna! Get the money and let’s go. I’ve already booked the VIP table for tonight.
I looked at the closed door of Jim's office. He thought he could break me? He thought I’d actually work? I looked at the coffee machine in the corner and then back at the tablet.
If he wants an assistant, he’s going to get the most expensive, least efficient one in history.
I stood up and headed for the breakroom. If I was going to survive until 5:00 PM, I needed a triple-shot latte and a plan to make sure Jim never asked me to come back here again.I grabbed the envelope of cash he slid across the desk, the weight of it slightly soothing the sting of my bruised pride. I didn't say thank you—he didn't deserve it. I just turned on my heel and marched back to my room, locking the door behind me.
- Writer
