The Assistant (Matt Sturniolo)

4

I will be using 'I' from now on, instead of 'you'

I didn't know why I thought today was going to be any different. Or even better, it was raining and the cold was beginning to sink in. It was Monday, my second week here and you felt like shit. It felt like you'd been there for weeks

Stepping in to the elevator, you were nervous coming back into work. I had breakfast ready in my hands, in a bag, for Mr Sturniolo.

The doors dinged and the noice of the office welcomed me. The phone was ringing in the reception and at nine am, the lobby was full of people looking for lawyers. I stepped off the elevator and arrive to work with no time to spare.

As if the world wasn't tired of hating me, it laughed at me when I saw what was on my desk. 'What' probably wasn't a good way to describe it.

"I'm glad you weren't in a rush to get here this morning" Mr Sturniolo said as I arrived at my desk. There he was. At my desk. Sitting in my chair.

"It's nine. I'm not late"

"You need to watch how you talk to me. I don't like it" He said, sitting up on the chair

"I'm sorry, I just don't understand"

"You're supposed to be here five minutes earlier everyday. I could change your schedule for eight forty five, if that's easier" he said, sitting up straight. He pulled himself towards the desk and kept eye contact with me.

"I'm sorry. Traffic was bad with the rain and the morning commute"

"You don't want to know what happens when you're late" he said, looking down at my tidy desk.

It was hard for it to be messy when I barely had anything on it. Mostly sticky notes, a calendar, a black journal of his contacts and a mug of pencils and pens.

He picked up one of my pens and twirled it around in his hand. The very pen and only one I brought from home. My favourite pen.

"Of course" I mumbled, not knowing where to look or what to do.

"I have an important phone call in a few minutes, I don't want to be interrupted by emails or knocks for the next hour, okay?"

"Are you even listening to me, Y/N?" He barked and I looked away from my pen, that he put into his pocket.

"Yeah, I'm sorry" I said, meeting his eyes.

"Maybe you wouldn't be saying sorry if you did your job right" he spat at me, his eyes focused on me and his eyebrows furrowed. "When I talk to you, I want you to look at me, understand?"

"Yeah, sir"

"Stop calling me sir, that's not my name!" He groaned and shook his head. I hold my own when he grabs the bag from my hands. The one he insists I use every time I buy something.

"Yes, Mr Sturniolo" I mumbled, sitting down quickly on the warm chair.

"I want my emails caught up by ten"

"What?" I spun around to him. "I can't get a whole weekends worth of emails done in an hour"

"I want that attitude gone by then too" He cracked. I looked away and opened the drawer, grabbing the ancient laptop.

A mumbled 'whatever' fell from my lips as I opened the laptop and turned it on

"What did you say to me?"

I turn my head and saw his eyes.

"Nothing, I didn't say anything"

"That's what I thought. You better not be mumbling things about me under your breath. Get to work and get those emails done" he barked, leaving with  the bag of food.