Not Even His Assistant

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13- She's Childish (Connor's Perspective)

It was the very early hours of the morning of our little excursion to Europe. Despite the unholy hour, Greyson was jumping, yes actually jumping, around the plane and our small group.

I stopped speaking to the group at some point to watch her in the darkness. Her bags were scattered on the ground and she kept going from person to person, trying to properly release her excitement.

Yeah, like she could ever actually release her excitement.

"Does anyone want to switch seats with me?" I said, mostly serious, but everyone laughed it off anyways.

We were going in our small company plane, but there were still enough seats for her to not have to sit next to me. So that brought the question of why exactly was she supposed to sit next to me then?

Well, apparently that all happened a few days ago. I had woken up still kind of drunk and kind of hungover. I was absolutely pissed at myself for being so irresponsible, especially because my reasoning for drinking myself blind was to not have to deal with thinking about everything Adam had been telling me. Not to mention, I didn't even remember drinking all that much. Adam had a way of getting unexpectedly strong alcohol.

I wasn't generally one to try and ignore my issues by drinking them away. However, being angry at myself wasn't helpful to the growing migraine I was dealing with, so I just accepted what the situation was. I got to my office a bit late and made sure Amanda and Sam knew to leave me to deal with my business alone for a few hours.

My migraine was centered in the front of my face straight back into the very core of my brain, so instead of reading emails, I rested my head down on my desk. Too many things were spinning in my mind.

And then, to add icing on my ever so beautiful cake, Greyson threw my door open and at the top of her lungs screeched an unnecessarily peppy, "Good morning!" I don't think I have ever hated her more.

To make matters worse, yeah, because things could've actually gotten worse, she laughed and said, "Oh you are so hungover! This is why you shouldn't drink. Maybe you'll learn a lesson here."

Her voice was way too high and her spot on accusation left whatever brain space I had control over in confusion, "How do you know I was drinking?" I whispered, hoping she'd get the, let's-be-quiet, memo.

In all too many words, which led to me regretting the question, she explained how she was over at my house the night before. I remembered Adam, but I thought the parts of my memory that included her was part of a terrible, horrible nightmare.

If it was any other day, I would've told her off for coming over to my place, I would have even asked her how she knew where I lived, but the pain my brain was in didn't allow me to do that. It was reassuring, however, to know that she only came over, in her words, for a little while to discuss our business trip. She added in there that I had promised her I would sit next to her since she still isn't very close with everyone. My drunk self wasn't the best at decision making. Apparently.

So that was the situation I was currently dealing with.

"Hey, haven't we met before?" Greyson stopped prancing to look keenly at Grant. He was like a veteran in our building, having worked with Jonathan's father before the company was ever actually put together. He was incredibly smart.

"Yes, on your first day I was going to give you a tour. Which never happened because you didn't want it." He replied.

"Oh... I remember now." She frowned a bit and quickly walked off. Grant shook his head in disapproval.