Million Dollar Devil

5.

I inserted my card key into the elevator three times before realizing it was upside down. Pressing floor 38, I felt a bundle of nerves growing in my stomach. At 3am I had received a calendar invite for a 1:1 with Mr Hayes and I hadn't slept since. I spent the rest of the night google searching how to be a personal assistant and personal assistant job tips only to find absolutely nothing helpful.

As I approached the big black door, my heart rate picked up a bit. I checked the time, 7:30. I slid the keycard into the door, waiting for the unlocking sound before pushing on the handle. I immediately noticed Mr Hayes on the couch, his laptop comfortably rested on his lap. His dark stubble more prominent today, his eyes a more tired. I remembered the 3am calendar invite.

"Mr Hayes," I greeted him with a shy nod.

He looked up at clearly having been so focused he had not heard me enter the room, "Lillian, you're early." He stood up, closing his laptop before moving to his desk, making himself comfortable in his leather chair.

"Yes, just wanted to beat traffic so I left a bit early today," I said shyly, not knowing why my voice always felt so small in his presence, "I'm ready to meet whenever you are, I can quickly throw my stuff in my office."

He nodded, giving me the go ahead to put my things down and get settled. I began to set up my desk, placing a little jar of colored pens and highlights on the corner and a little tray of Hershey's kisses on the shelf. I plugged in my laptop and phone before heading back towards Mr. Hayes office.

"I'm ready if you are, sir."

He glanced at me, his eyes darkening for a split second before motioning to the chair opposite his. I sat down in front of him, nervously fidgeting with the pen in my hand.

"Where are you from," he asked intently, completely catching me off guard.

"Seattle."

"University of Washington?" He asked, studying me closely.

"Uh, no. I actually didn't go to college," I said uncomfortably. My education is my biggest insecurity, admitting my lack of it felt especially shameful standing in front of a genius millionaire. My eyes shot to the floor, nervous for his response.

"Neither did I," he said cooly. I quickly glanced up at him, his eyes were on me. His gaze was gentle, almost reassuring but it only lasted a split second. His face hardened as he glanced down at the papers in his hand before handing them to me.

"These are general expectations of this position. You're main role is maintaining my schedule, which is a beast in of itself. All my calendar log ins and scheduling platforms are listed there. Please familiarize yourself with them. In addition, I will often ask you to draft simple reports, prepare correspondences with outside corporations, and arrange my travel plans. I travel frequently, on rare occasions I may need you to accompany me to keep things in order," he paused, "I hope that is okay with you."

"Yes sir, of course," I reassured him, making a mental note that I will need to inform Lilacs of days I will need off.

"Good," he said, "Do you have any questions for me?"

Looking at his tired eyes and remembering my google search, a thought ran through my head, "Should I be getting you coffee in the morning?"

"No," he said simply.

"But..." I interjected, before I could finished he spoke over me.

"Lillian, I am perfectly capable of getting my own coffee. That is not your job. On very rare occasions I may ask you to run a personal errand, but that's it." He said firmly, his tone leaving no room for comments. I nodded in response, surrendering to his demand.