2. Just An Assistant
NEHA
" Congratulations, Ansel! This is incredible," I told my boss when he revealed that Patrick had indeed confirmed that his promotion was imminent.
Soon, the official announcement would be made.
Ansel would be moving to the fortieth floor—the executive level—where the firm’s most powerful decision-makers worked.
It wasn’t just an office upgrade; it was a seismic shift in his career.
As a Senior Director, he had spent years buried in financial models, structuring deals, and grinding through endless client meetings.
But now, as a soon-to-be Vice President, he’d step into a bigger arena—leading multibillion-dollar mergers and acquisitions, negotiating high-stakes deals, working with our biggest clients, and influencing the firm’s growth strategy.
Instead of working late nights perfecting pitch books, he’d be the one pitching directly to CEOs, private equity firms, and Fortune 500 clients.
He would set the vision, command the room, and make the kind of decisions that shaped industries.
His responsibilities were about to grow exponentially—which meant mine would as well.
"Couldn't have done this without your support, Neha," he said sincerely.
I flushed. "I think you’d be fine without me."
That was true! However, I did deliver value, which I was proud of.
I made sure he had his coffee every morning, but that was the least of it. I also made sure every pitch book he walked into a meeting with was flawless—polished, data-backed, and impossible to pick apart. I ran the numbers twice, sometimes three times, cross-checking models and ensuring his valuations held up under scrutiny. When analysts missed key market comps or overlooked critical deal terms, I caught the mistakes before they ever reached his desk.
I knew his schedule better than he did, managing back-to-back client meetings, internal briefings, and last-minute fire drills without breaking a sweat. And when it came to presentations, I didn’t just format slides—I refined messaging, tightened narratives, and made sure every chart and projection told a compelling story, while maintaining the sanctity of the data.
Most executive assistants scheduled meetings and took notes. I did that—and more. I made sure Ansel was always ten steps ahead, armed with the insights, strategy, and precision that made him look like the smartest guy in the room. Not that he usually wasn’t.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I just smiled. "Congratulations again. You deserve it."
"Let’s go to Delmonico’s for lunch this Friday. My treat—we should celebrate."
He usually saved places like that for the women he dated. With me, it was always the company café or the Irish pub down the street—a quick drink after work, sometimes with the rest of the team. Never anywhere upscale.
My heart kicked up a beat, even as I told myself I was being ridiculous. This wasn’t special. It wasn’t different. I was his assistant—nothing more.
Two days later, the announcement came down from the powers above by company email. The whole team was excited for Ansel and they congratulated him and me because everyone knew I’d be going up to the fortieth floor with him.
“I hope he’ll take me with him,” Brian whined. “It’s not gonna be the same without him.”
I understood what he meant. Not all departments were like ours, and we were fortunate to have a leader as good as Ansel.
Ansel would officially take over the new role in a couple of weeks, so he wanted to make sure he could hand over all his tasks to his successor.
A week later, we found out that the new occupant of his office was an external hire.
During our first meeting, she told me that she was bringing her assistant from her previous job, whom she had worked with for many years. I told her I understood, and even though I didn’t say anything about moving with Ansel because a formal offer hadn’t been made, yet, I got the feeling she knew I was going to stay with my boss.
I was sure he’d be giving me my new title and contract when we went for lunch—our fancy lunch.
God! My life was amazing, I thought as I walked to Ansel’s office, one hand balancing a tablet against my chest, the other gripping a folder filled with last-minute reports.
I passed by Vanessa Keller's office, which was at the same level as Ansel’s. They both reported to the same Vice President. There were rumors about them having an affair, which I quashed. My boss was too professional and career-focused to mess up by having a relationship in the workplace. However, he and Vanessa were friends and spent time together even when they weren’t working, so, sometimes, I wondered if they were indeed closer.
The door to Vanessa’s office was cracked open and when I heard my name, I instinctively stopped.
“Ansel, you know Neha isn’t manager material,” I heard Vanessa say.
My heart thumped loudly, waiting for Ansel to reply, to defend me.
“I know.”
I stood frozen, looking at my knee-high boots. I couldn’t believe it.
“So, she’s not going upstairs with you?” Vanessa asked.
“No,” Ansel replied.
“But Ginny is bringing her own assistant.” Ginny was Ansel’s successor.
“Yeah, I know. I’d hoped that Neha could just stay with Ginny but now….”
Now what?
“So…you’re letting her go?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought she was all that as an assistant.”
“She is just an assistant as you say, which means, she’s entirely replaceable,” Ansel drawled.
I felt like throwing up.
“Have you talked to HR?” Vanessa prodded.
“Yeah. I tried to get her a good package. She’s been here three years so she gets three weeks. They wouldn’t give more no matter what I said.”
“Oh please, like she deserves more. Assistants are a dime a dozen.”
Tears filled my eyes. After everything I’d done for Ansel, he was going to fire me?
“True…I’m sure she’ll find another job.”
“In Sterling?” Vanessa wanted to know.
“If someone wants her, I got no problem with it.”
I remembered all the times he told me he was worried someone would poach me, and I promised my loyalty to him. Didn’t I now feel like a big, fat, stupid fool?
“When will you tell her?” Vanessa wanted to know.
“Next week,” Ansel said. “I’m taking her to lunch today to Delmonico’s, soften the blow when it comes next week.”
He was taking me out to soften the blow of firing me? Like anything could.
“You know she goes around telling people you can’t do your job without her,” Vanessa scoffed.
I’d never said that to anyone. I didn’t even feel it. I supported Ansel, I brought value…didn’t I?
“Yeah, I know, which is why I can’t have her with me. I need someone I can trust.”
Vanessa hummed in agreement.
I held my tablet and envelopes close to my chest. I should move, get to my cubicle, I thought, and not stand here listening to these cruel and awful things Ansel was saying.
I would have just done that when Ansel showed me he could be crueler. “And she has a crush on me. Right now, I’m just embarrassed on her behalf but as a Vice President, she’d be a liability.”
“I told you,” Vanessa chided.
“I wish I’d listened.”
“I can’t believe why she thinks she has a chance with someone like you.” Vanessa laughed.
“I have no idea! I never encouraged her, always kept her at a professional arm’s distance. I’m relieved she never made a pass…that would have been a disaster.”
The arrogance in his tone made me wince inwardly. I knew his words said more about him than they did about me—but that didn’t make them hurt any less.
“So, I’m assuming you’ll want me on your team in M&A?” Vanessa prodded.
“You’ve got to give me time to get settled and then we can talk. Does that sound good?”
“Absolutely,” she purred.
I licked my lips and then, when they started to talk about Vanessa’s planned promotion as she moved up with Ansel, I began to slowly walk.
A sharp, suffocating pressure filled my chest.
She’s just an assistant.
She’s entirely replaceable.
I managed to get to the bathroom before the first tear fell.
Locking myself in a stall, I pressed my palms against the cool metal door, my breath shaky as Ansel’s words echoed in my head.
He thought I wasn’t manager material, then why did he say he’d make me one? He found my devotion to him embarrassing on my behalf? I’d never been inappropriate with him, ever and he had the gall to speak of me like I was some insecure slut.
I was a twenty-eight-year-old professional. I was not just an assistant .
I squeezed my eyes shut as the memories flooded.
Every late night spent in his office, double-checking reports while he loosened his tie and thanked me for always staying.
Every early morning when I brought his coffee exactly the way he liked it.
Every time he said, I don’t know what I’d do without you, Neha.
Liar.
I had told myself—again and again—that he didn’t see me the way I saw him. That the soft glances I imagined, the rare smiles he saved just for me, meant nothing. But this? This wasn’t just a lack of feelings. It was outright disregard and disrespect.
Heat pricked my eyes again, but I swallowed it down. There was no point in breaking apart over this. I’d given everything to this job. To him. But he didn’t see my contributions.
I inhaled sharply and straightened.
Fine .
I squared my shoulders, turned on my heel, and went straight to my desk. Ansel Tyler thought I was disposable, but I wouldn’t wait for him to toss me aside. I’d leave before he got that pleasure.
Could I use the three-week severance check? Unquestionably, but my dignity was more important. I had savings, and I’d be fine until I found a new job.
When I returned to my desk, my decision was firmer than that of a blue-chip stock in a bull market.
I typed up a short resignation letter, planning to hand it to him after lunch at Delmonico’s. The least he could do was buy me an expensive meal before I walked away for good.
I printed out the letter, signed it with steady hands, ignoring the cracks in my heart.