124
An hour slipped by quietly, the office floor settling into its afternoon rhythm. Amanda kept one eye on the clock as she worked through her emails, then finally closed her tablet with a decisive snap. It was time.
She walked back into Ericka's office, the room dim and still.
The blinds were half-drawn, muting the daylight into soft streaks across the leather couch where Ericka lay stretched out, one arm draped over her stomach.
Her breathing was steady, deeper than Amanda was used to hearing—it tugged at something tender in her chest.
Amanda crossed the room quietly, kneeling down beside her. She touched Ericka's hand lightly, giving it the faintest squeeze.
"Hey," Amanda whispered, her voice low and warm. "Time to wake up."
Ericka stirred slowly, her lashes fluttering before her eyes opened, hazy with sleep. She blinked, then focused on Amanda's face, a soft, faint smile tugging at her lips.
"Mmm," she hummed. "Already?"
Amanda brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, her touch gentle. "Yeah. Just about an hour. You needed it, though—you look a little better."
Ericka shifted upright, rubbing her temple, and Amanda helped steady her with a hand at her back.
"I've got some paperwork for you," Amanda said softly, sliding the folder from under her arm and placing it on the desk. "A few sign-offs and approvals before the afternoon gets away from us."
Ericka groaned softly but smiled, her voice rasped from sleep. "Even after a nap, I can't escape the paperwork."
Amanda smirked faintly, helping her to her feet. "That's what you pay me for—to keep it lined up so all you have to do is sign your name."
Ericka leaned into her just briefly as she walked toward her desk. Amanda set the folder down, flipping it open to the first flagged page, and handed her a pen.
"Here," Amanda said, her voice still gentle. "Just a few things, nothing heavy."
Ericka glanced at her with a small, lingering look of gratitude before lowering her eyes to the page.
Ericka signed the last page in the folder, setting the pen down with a soft clink against the glass desk. She leaned back in her chair, stretching slightly, then glanced up at Amanda, who was still standing nearby with her tablet tucked under her arm.
"How did things go while I was out?" Ericka asked, her tone light but edged with that CEO sharpness that never fully disappeared—even when she was tired.
Amanda let out a quiet breath, her lips curving faintly. "Smooth. I made a few rounds, checked in with design, answered some questions. Nothing that couldn't be handled."
Ericka tilted her head, studying her. "You're leaving something out."
Amanda's smirk softened into something warmer. She set her tablet down on the edge of the desk and leaned forward slightly. "One of the designers pulled me aside. Said things feel steadier around here since I started."
Ericka raised a brow, intrigued. "Steadier?"
"Apparently," Amanda continued, "the last assistant... wasn't exactly reliable. Things slipped. You ended up carrying more than you should've. And when you were in full boss mode, the whole floor felt it."
Ericka gave a low hum, not denying it. "I suppose that's true."
Amanda smiled faintly, lowering her voice. "But now? They said when you're okay, they're okay. And they feel like they can depend on me to make sure that happens."
Ericka's lips parted slightly, her eyes softening in a way Amanda rarely saw during office hours. She leaned back in her chair, letting the words sink in. "They really said that?"
Amanda nodded, her expression steady but touched with quiet pride. "They did. And honestly, they meant it."
For a long moment, Ericka was quiet, her gaze locked on Amanda's. Finally, she exhaled, her voice softer than before. "I don't think you realize how much you've changed things here. For me. For them."
Amanda gave a small shrug, trying to keep her composure, though her chest felt warm. "I just do what I can to keep you steady. Everything else flows from that."
Ericka's lips curved into a faint, tired but genuine smile. "And that's why I trust you more than anyone."
Amanda swallowed against the weight of the words, her own voice soft when she answered. "I won't let you down."
Amanda's words lingered in the quiet of the office, her steady presence grounding the space. Ericka leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting briefly toward the window before settling back on Amanda.
"You know," she began slowly, "they're not wrong about how things were before you."
Amanda tilted her head, listening.
"My last assistant—" Ericka let out a breath, her voice tinged with frustration at the memory.
"She almost cost me more than once. We nearly lost two major deals because follow-up emails slipped through.
Simple changes were missed—contracts left unedited, approvals left unsigned until the last possible second. "
Amanda stayed silent, her focus sharp on every word.
"And meetings..." Ericka shook her head slightly, her lips curving into a humorless smile. "I was late more times than I can count. Walking in without prep because my schedule wasn't updated. Imagine trying to command a room when you're already on your back foot. It wasn't sustainable."
Her hand brushed absently across the edge of the folder Amanda had given her, fingertips lingering there. "I had to live in full boss mode—sharp, unrelenting—because I couldn't afford the cracks. If I let up for even a second, something would fall through."
Amanda's chest tightened at the honesty in Ericka's tone. She stepped closer, resting her hands lightly on the desk. "That won't happen again. Not with me here."
Ericka's eyes lifted, meeting Amanda's with a steadiness that was rare outside their private moments. "I know. That's the difference. I don't have to second-guess with you. You keep me a step ahead instead of scrambling to catch up. It changes everything."
Amanda gave a small nod, her lips curving faintly. "That's exactly why I'm here. To take the weight off your shoulders so you can just... lead."
Ericka's gaze softened, her voice lower. "And for the first time in a long time, I actually feel like I can."
Amanda let Ericka's words sink in. The honesty, the weariness beneath them—it wasn't often Ericka let her guard down this much, especially within these walls.
Amanda leaned a little closer, her voice quiet but steady. "You don't have to carry all of it alone anymore. I know you've spent years keeping everything together, making sure no one saw the cracks. But I see you, Ericka. And I'm not going anywhere."
Ericka's lips parted slightly, her eyes softening. "You make it sound easy."
Amanda gave a faint smile. "It's not. But I'd rather carry the weight with you than watch you break under it. You trust me with the details, and I'll make sure you always walk into a room prepared, calm, and untouchable."
For a moment, silence filled the office—thick but comforting. Ericka leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly as some of the tension bled from her posture.
"You really don't understand how much that means," she murmured.
Amanda stepped around the desk, perching lightly on the edge beside her. "I do. Maybe more than you think. Because I've watched you push through exhaustion, stress, and pressure most people couldn't survive—and still come out on top. But you don't have to do it all like that anymore."
Ericka tilted her head up, her eyes locking onto Amanda's. There was vulnerability there, rare and unguarded. "I don't deserve you."
Amanda reached out, brushing her fingers along Ericka's jaw, her touch featherlight. "You do. You've always deserved someone who's in your corner without hesitation."
Ericka leaned into the touch just slightly, her voice low. "I hate how much I need that."
Amanda's faint smile curved into something softer. "Then it's a good thing I love giving it."
For the first time all day, Ericka laughed—a quiet, genuine sound that pulled the edge from the air. She shook her head, her hand covering Amanda's briefly. "You never let me drown, do you?"
Amanda squeezed her hand, steady and sure. "Not a chance."