Chapter 2 #2
She seats me in a waiting room where people come and go in groups and individually, some passing by on the way to the elevators, others heading for the ground-floor cafe that seems to be busy from the moment I walk in until I'm called back up a half an hour later and directed to a meeting room.
It's not even an office. It's a whole ass conference room, and I'm the only one here.
"Take a seat, Miss Stone; Miss Simmons will be along shortly."
I'm left to my own devices, and I'm sweating bullets. What if she doesn't like me after all this time? What if the client she talked about knows who I am, or who my old boss is, and decides on the spot I won't work? What if she's only here to tell me that she's decided against it, and—
"Oh, hi there! I hope you haven't been waiting long."
Arista Simmons glides into the room with a smile on her face, one so bright it can light up the whole big space around her—and it does.
She's being trailed by a young girl who looks very much like her, a pretty pink ribbon in her bright red hair, cute freckles winking as she climbs up into a nearby chair and prepares herself with a pose that most business moguls only wish they could pull off with so much poise.
Arista's hand rests gently on the girl's head as she smiles down at her. "I hope you don't mind that I brought my daughter with me. Her father's busy today, and he needed a break, so she's moonlighting as my little intern."
"I'm not little," the girl huffs, pulling a pen from her mother's briefcase nearby. "I'll take the meeting notes."
"She's a professional already," I say with a chuckle, watching in awe as she pulls out a notepad next, and legitimately puts the pen to paper, looking to me like she's waiting for something.
"Ari, sweetie, why don't you—"
"Arista? Mr. Kobayashi has arrived, and—"
The receptionist barely has time to stick her head in the door before a man with striking features strides right around her and throws himself urgently into a seat, his knee bouncing as he glances up at Arista first, then me.
First impression: anxious mess.
His eyes are hard, and he looks like he's got very little patience for whatever this is right now. "I've got a half an hour before I have to be across town for an interview with the Daily Times, and the drive in this traffic will take at least twenty minutes. Let's make this fast."
Oh, great, a man who's already running late and making it everyone's fault but his own.
I hate men who won't accept responsibility and own their own problems.
And now, it appears I'll be working for one.
Second impression: asshole.
Arista sits down next to him and leans in for a hug, which the man accepts with a friendly smile. "Kai, how nice to see you. I'm glad you're settling in okay—"
"Arista," he grunts, crossing his arms as she pulls back. "We don't have time to shoot the breeze now. Maybe later, after I've been worked to the bone by kNight Entertainment, we can catch up—"
"Are you still mad because they're making you do remedial stuff?"
She's biting back a smile, and that makes me want to laugh, too. If she finds him ridiculous, then I'm not the only one who thinks his whole attitude pretty much sucks.
But I can't start laughing at my new boss before I even get the job.
So I wait, and I look at my lap, and pick at my nails, until a folder slides in front of me with a pen attached to the top.
"Kai, meet Denali Stone. She's going to be your new assistant."
"Excuse me?"
"Um, what?" Assistant? "I'm a social media manager." Not a personal assistant. "I don't know—"
"I don't have any social media management work right now, but I do have dire need for an assistant for Kai. He's been managing his own schedule for a week now, since his last assistant—"
"I didn't run her off, and don't you start with me, Rizzo," the man snaps, his brows furrowed. "It's not my fault she wanted to slack off and take a two hour lunch. It cost me an endorsement."
He sounds delightful.
Arista waves off his protests and continues like he's not even in the room. "Kai is a bit of a fierce taskmaster, and he expects a lot from his team, but as long as you're willing to give it a hundred and ten percent, I think you'll be okay—"
"I don't know the first thing about being an assistant—"
"It's not hard," she says, nudging the folder at me as Kai scowls at her.
"Kai just needs someone to manage his schedule, see that he gets everywhere on time, and arrange things like transportation, take calls, and field requests and company required appearances.
" She nudges the folder over again, and this time, I take it and flip the first page open with a sigh.
And then I start to read through the sections of what appears to be a contract as Kai Kobayashi starts to throw a man-fit.
"You want me to take on an untried assistant in what is arguably the height of my busy season, and what—train her myself? Arista, I expected your company to have a higher level of competence than this—"
"Kai, it's not my fault you've scared off four assistants in two months. That's on you. I'm giving you one last chance here, so maybe learn to control your attitude and be grateful—"
He stands up, and though he's not tall, he strikes an imposing figure in his perfectly-pressed dress pants, his sharp button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and the tight strap around his arguably impressive bicep. And when he turns his glare on her, I almost feel sorry for her.
But she doesn't look intimidated in the least. And neither does her daughter, for that matter, who until now has been diligently taking notes on her paper.
The girl stands up in her seat and waves the paper in the man's face, her face scrunched up in a frown of disappointment. "Uncle Kai, you shouldn't be mean to my mom. She's the boss around here."
Kai seems to soften for her, though it's not by much. "I'm not being mean, Yejin. I'm just frustrated—"
"Miss Denali seems like a nice lady. You should give her a chance."
I'm taken aback. I haven't spoken more than a handful of words since I walked into this room, but she's already made her mind up about me, and is now going to bat against a grown man in my honor.
"I might not be skilled in the art of being a perfect personal assistant," I start, needing to say something to defend my own honor, "but I'm willing to learn, and I'm fast on the uptake."
"I'm sorry, what?" Clearly English isn't his first language, though he's fluent enough in it.
"I'm a fast learner," I explain, turning back to the contract again. "I'm a hard worker. And—"
I waffle on whether or not to admit the truth, but decide that honesty's likely to get me further than some bullshit pandering to his ego.
"I need this job. Probably more than you need an assistant."
He looks me up and down as I stand and offer him my hand, contemplating how he reached this point in his life, no doubt. Joke's on him, because same, buddy. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
"I can certainly promise to do my best," I say truthfully. "That's all I can say for sure, but I don't play around."
And I might've noticed the clause in the contract that says if I last longer than a week, I get a sign-on bonus that'll be enough to cover the back rent I owe my landlord.
Kai reaches out and gives me his hand in return, and we shake on it. "Sign the papers, and come with me. Your first day starts now."
I rush to jot my name on the dotted line, promising to get my pay details to Arista later, and then I'm practically dragged out of the room by the man who is now my immediate boss.
I'll do this job if it kills me. And at the rate I'm going, with his headstrong attitude and fast pace, it just might.