123
The first reports rolled out—financial projections, operational updates, marketing numbers. Amanda stayed sharp, scanning her notes in real time, cross-referencing questions against the revised documents she'd prepared the night before.
When one of the older board members pressed about the inconsistencies from last quarter, Ericka didn't flinch. Her hand lifted slightly, palm open, halting further questions. She turned her head just enough for Amanda to slide the corrected figures toward her.
"As you'll see on page four," Ericka said calmly, lifting the chart as if she had prepared it herself, "the revisions have already been integrated. Projections are consistent with vendor confirmations."
The board member sat back, nodding slowly. Amanda tapped something quickly on her tablet, noting the follow-up to email them the digital copy later.
Another question came—this time about overhead costs. Amanda already had the answer pulled up, her stylus circling the corrected number on the chart before nudging it closer to Ericka's elbow. Ericka didn't miss a beat.
"Page seven," she said smoothly, eyes locked on the questioner. "Those figures reflect pre-adjustment. The actuals are here." She tapped the page Amanda had marked. "The corrected variance is two percent, not four."
The tension in the room ebbed. Heads nodded, pens scratched notes. The rhythm between them was seamless—Amanda anticipating, Ericka delivering.
By the time the final slide blinked onto the screen, the once-tight atmosphere had eased into thoughtful quiet. Ericka closed her folder with deliberate calm, her gaze sweeping the table.
"That concludes the update," she said. "Any additional concerns can be sent through Amanda for review. She'll make sure I see them."
Silence hung for a beat before a few board members exchanged looks and gave small nods. One even murmured, "Impressive work," though it wasn't clear if they meant Ericka or the smoothness of the whole operation.
Ericka stood, her movements precise, graceful, unhurried. Amanda followed suit, gathering her notes quickly and sliding them into her folder, her expression neutral but steady.
As they left the room together, Amanda's presence was sharp—assistant, organizer, shadow. But the second the door closed behind them, Amanda caught the faintest curve of Ericka's lips. A smile no one else would ever see.
"Smooth," Amanda murmured under her breath, glancing sideways at her.
"Flawless," Ericka corrected softly, her eyes glinting.
Amanda was relieved that Ericka finally had a real break built into her day. But halfway down the hall, Ericka faltered. Her steps slowed, her hand pressing firmly against her stomach, her expression tightening.
"Excuse me," she murmured quickly, her voice clipped as she turned toward the bathroom.
The staff nearby looked up, concern flickering across their faces. Amanda caught their glances but didn't pause—she stopped only long enough at her desk to grab the bag she made for emergencies before following.
Inside, Amanda found Ericka already kneeling before the toilet, her body trembling as she leaned forward, retching violently. Amanda dropped down beside her without hesitation, sliding one hand through Ericka's hair to keep it away from her face while her other hand steadied gently at her back.
"It's okay, baby," Amanda murmured softly, keeping her tone steady. "I'm right here."
Ericka's shoulders heaved with another wave, her breaths uneven and ragged. Amanda held her steady, rubbing soft circles across her back, whispering quiet reassurances until the episode finally began to subside.
When it was over, Ericka stayed on her knees, breathing hard. Amanda leaned closer, brushing a strand of damp hair from her cheek and pressing a kiss against her temple. "Better?" she asked gently.
Ericka nodded faintly, exhausted but calmer. Amanda slipped an arm around her, guiding her up carefully. "Let's get you to the sink."
At the counter, Amanda turned on the water. From the tote, she pulled out a toothbrush and travel-sized toothpaste, setting them in front of Ericka. "Here. You'll feel better after this."
Ericka's lips curved faintly, her eyes tired but full of gratitude. "You always think ahead."
Amanda gave her a small smile. "That's my job—and my choice."
As Ericka brushed her teeth, Amanda pulled out a small bottle of water from the bag. When she was done, Amanda handed it to her. "Sip slow."
Ericka nodded, taking a careful drink. Her color was already beginning to return, though Amanda could still see the fatigue weighing on her.
Amanda slid her hand into Ericka's, fingers lacing firmly. "Come on. Let's get you back to your office."
Walking side by side, Amanda guiding her gently, they reemerged onto the floor. The staff lifted their heads, concern clear in their eyes, but Amanda's calm presence—and the way she held Ericka's hand steady in her own—was enough reassurance.
Back in her office, Amanda guided her to her chair. "Sit. Rest. You've earned it."
Ericka sank into her seat, her hand lingering on Amanda's for a moment longer before finally letting go. "What would I do without you?" she whispered.
Amanda crouched slightly to meet her eyes, her expression soft but firm. "You'll never have to find out."
Amanda stayed by Ericka's side, watching her carefully as the color slowly returned to her face. She still looked tired, but steadier now. Amanda reached out, brushing her knuckles gently over Ericka's arm.
"Stay put," she said softly. "I'll grab the food."
Right on cue, a knock sounded at the office door. Amanda stood, smoothing her suit jacket, and opened it to take the delivery bag from the assistant who had been waiting. She offered them a quiet "thank you," then closed the door again, keeping the space private.
Setting the containers on the small round table by the window, Amanda opened them carefully—steamed rice, grilled vegetables, and a mild soup she had ordered on purpose. Nothing heavy. Nothing too harsh. She poured water into a glass, then carried the tray over to Ericka's desk.
"Here," Amanda said, her tone gentle but firm. "Light, easy. Just enough to keep you steady."
Ericka gave her a small, tired smile. "You're really not going to let me skip, are you?"
Amanda smirked faintly. "Not a chance. Not when I know you'll try to push through and regret it later."
Ericka picked up the spoon, her movements slow but deliberate, and tasted the soup. Warmth spread across her face, and she exhaled softly. "Okay. You win."
Amanda leaned against the edge of the desk, watching her with quiet satisfaction. "I always win when it comes to taking care of you."
For a few minutes, the office was quiet, the only sound the soft clink of spoon against porcelain. Ericka ate slowly, sipping water between bites, Amanda keeping an eye on her without hovering.
By the time she set the spoon down, half the bowl gone, her shoulders seemed lighter. She leaned back in her chair, her gaze lifting to Amanda. "Thank you."
Amanda crouched again so they were eye level. "Always." She brushed her hand across Ericka's knee lightly, grounding her. "Now, finish resting. The rest of the afternoon can wait for you."
Ericka's lips curved faintly, her voice lower now. "You know... I don't think I've ever had someone balance me the way you do."
Amanda's heart tugged, but she only smiled, squeezing her knee gently before standing. "That's why I'm here."
Amanda watched as Ericka set her spoon down, her color just a shade better but her posture still heavy with fatigue. She glanced at the leather couch along the wall of the office, then back at her.
"Baby," Amanda said softly, her voice gentle but firm, "why don't you lay down for a bit? Take a nap. I'll wake you in an hour."
Ericka hesitated, her CEO mask flickering. Normally, she would've argued, insisted she was fine. But the truth was written in her eyes—she was tired, and Amanda was right.
"Okay," she murmured, her voice quieter than usual.
Amanda stood, helping her up from the desk and guiding her toward the couch. Ericka sank down into the cushions, stretching out, her hand finding Amanda's briefly before she let her go. Amanda bent over, brushing a kiss across her temple.
"Rest," Amanda whispered. "I'll handle everything."
Ericka nodded, her eyes already fluttering closed as Amanda dimmed the office lights.
When Amanda stepped back into the hallway, the air was thick with quiet curiosity. The staff looked up from their desks, eyes flicking to her, their expressions a mix of worry and restraint.
Amanda gave them a calm smile, her presence steady. One of the junior staffers approached cautiously, lowering their voice. "Is the boss okay?"
"She's fine," Amanda reassured quickly, her tone professional but warm. "She just ate something that didn't sit well. I've got her resting for a bit."
The staffer nodded, visibly relieved. "Good. We were... worried."
Amanda offered a reassuring smile. "I'll keep you updated. Just keep things running smoothly."
With Ericka finally resting behind the closed office door, Amanda decided to use the quiet time wisely.
She tucked her tablet under her arm and made her way down the hall, her heels clicking softly against the polished floors.
The design room buzzed faintly with energy—printers humming, fabric samples laid across tables, and mood boards propped against the walls.
Amanda was halfway to the board she wanted to review when a voice called out tentatively.
"Um... Amanda?"
She turned, spotting one of the junior designers lingering in the doorway. They hesitated, shifting from foot to foot before stepping closer.
"Can I... talk to you about something?" they asked.
Amanda set her tablet on the nearest table and gave a small nod, her voice calm but open. "Of course. What's on your mind?"
The worker let out a slow breath, their shoulders visibly tense. "It's just... things have been so much better since you started here."
Amanda's brow arched slightly. "Better how?"
The designer glanced toward the hall, as if to make sure no one else was listening, then leaned in a little closer.
"Before you came on, the boss was... well, she was always in full-on CEO mode.
Sharp, unshakable, but..." they lowered their voice, ".
..always distant. Hard. Like there was never any room to breathe. "
Amanda listened quietly, arms folding loosely across her chest.
The worker continued, their tone softening.
"The last assistant—no offense—just couldn't keep up.
Things slipped through the cracks. Deadlines stacked up.
And when that happened, Ms. Mathews... she didn't have a choice but to push harder.
It felt like she was carrying the entire building on her back, and the rest of us were just scrambling to keep up. "
They let out a humorless chuckle, rubbing the back of their neck. "To be honest, it was exhausting. Morale was low. Everyone was nervous all the time."
Amanda tilted her head slightly, her voice quiet. "And now?"
The worker's lips curved faintly, relief threading through their words. "Now, we can depend on you. You're always on top of everything—details, schedules, even just making sure she's... okay. When the boss is okay, we're okay. It feels like the entire floor is steadier because of you."
Amanda's heart tugged at the sincerity in their tone, though her face remained composed.
"I'm glad you feel that way," she said softly. "That's exactly what I want—for everyone to have what they need to do their best work. Ms. Mathews sets high expectations, but she deserves support just as much as she gives it. And so do all of you."
The worker's shoulders relaxed, their voice dropping to a more personal tone. "I don't think you realize how much it matters. Having someone here who doesn't just keep things organized but keeps her balanced... it makes all the difference."
Amanda paused, letting the weight of the words settle before giving a small, sincere smile. "We're all in this together. If I have anything to do with it, she'll be more than okay. And that means the rest of you will be too."
The designer's expression brightened, tension finally easing from their shoulders. "Thank you. Really."
Amanda gave a quiet nod before turning back toward the mood boards, her tablet in hand. But as the designer slipped out of the room, she let herself linger on their words.
She had known her role was important, but hearing it spoken aloud—that she wasn't just holding up Ericka but anchoring the entire office—was something else entirely. Heavy, yes. But also grounding.
Amanda exhaled slowly, straightened her shoulders, and turned her attention back to the boards. If the staff felt steadier with her here, then she'd make damn sure to keep it that way.