Chapter 5
508 Words
Jonathan's Pov
The Assistant's Perspective
Working as the executive assistant to Albert Jones required a level of patience that few people possessed.
Mr. Jones was brilliant, precise, and completely unwavering. To the rest of the world—and to most of the employees at Jones Corporation—he was a wall of ice.
He ran this company with absolute control, and I had seen countless seasoned executives walk out of his office with trembling hands after failing to meet his high standards. In my years here, I had grown accustomed to the heavy, intimidating atmosphere that always seemed to hang around him.
So, when the new secretary was late on her very first morning, I braced myself for the inevitable. I fully expected to be instructed to process her termination paperwork before her coat was even hung up.
Then, Mr. Jones pressed the internal call button.
"Jonathan, come show my new secretary to her office."
I opened the heavy oak doors, expecting to find a nervous wreck or someone on the brink of tears. Instead, I saw a young woman standing there with a calm, sweet expression. But what truly caught me off guard was Mr. Jones. The usual icy tension in his posture was gone, replaced by a subtle, amused smirk. He looked genuinely entertained—a rarity in this building.
"Come, Ms. Janeson," I said softly, stepping back to lead the way.
"Okay, thank you, Mr. Jonathan," she replied, following me out into the grand hallway.
As we walked down the marble corridor, I couldn't help but smile at her quiet wonder as she took in the surroundings. "Don't worry," I offered, wanting to ease whatever remaining nerves she had.
"Mr. Jones can be intimidating, but you handled him remarkably well. I've seen executives tremble in that room, yet you made him laugh."
"I think my mouth just moved faster than my brain," she admitted, a bright blush rising to her cheeks.
I chuckled softly. "Honesty is a rare commodity around here, Ms. Janeson. I suspect he found it refreshing."
We stopped outside her new office, a bright, modern space right beside Mr. Jones's suite. After going over her basic duties and handing her the pre-loaded schedule, I decided to give her one crucial tip to help her survive her first week.
"Just call me Jonathan—no 'Mr.' necessary," I said with a warm nod. "I'll let you get settled. But a word of advice: Mr. Jones takes his coffee strictly black, no sugar, precisely at ten o'clock."
"Got it. Black coffee at ten," she repeated, nodding earnestly.
As I walked back down the hall toward my desk, I smiled to myself. For the first time since I started working at Jones Corporation, the atmosphere felt a little lighter. Ms. Janeson had managed to break through the CEO's icy exterior in less than ten minutes—and I had a feeling things were about to get very interesting around here.
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