Personal Assistant (MXM - EDITING )

Chapter 7: Bathroom anxiety

The restaurant wasn't packed. The co-workers entered the dining area, turning around to see rows of empty tables. Three tables were taken, and one of them was where the CEO of the Compskill company sat. He waved at Nicolas, who grinned and walked towards him. Seven followed behind, looking around the place. He's never been to a seafood restaurant after moving to Batesburg. So the smell hit him like a truck. It had a hint of coffee and fish, making Seven's stomach want to tear itself out.

"Morning, Mr. Hampton," Nicolas greeted as he sat on the brown, cushioned seat. "Hope we didn't keep you waiting."

"Oh, not at all, Anderson." His smile wrinkled his skin as he turned his attention to Seven.

"Who's this?"

Seven smiled at him as he sat next to Nicolas and across from the CEO of Compskill. His brown hair and white strands made him look slightly older than Nick.

"This is my assistant. He'll be joining us today as it is his second day, and I trust you wouldn't mind if he learned some stuff about the process of my meetings." Nicolas grinned as Mr. Hampton moved his eyes to the waiter, calling for their attention.

Seven attempted to position himself on the seats but felt Nicolas shift closer, whispering, "If he says something that makes you uncomfortable, tap on my leg."

What? Seven thought, tensing up at the sudden whisper to his ear. Nicolas moved back, clearing his throat. Seven slumped on the chair, wondering why Nick would warn him about what could happen. Seven's eyes moved to Mr. Hampton, who kept looking at the waiter from across the dining area. He couldn't figure out who Mr. Hampton was, but the company's name sounded familiar. What could Mr. Hampton say that could make Seven uncomfortable?

"They'll be here shortly." He glanced at the assistant as his smile radiated a sort of creepy aura. "So, what's your name?"

"Uh... Serene Ochoa, Mr. Hampton," Seven answered without thinking.

He narrowed his eyes as they examined him as if he were at an auction. "Why the female name?"

Oh. Seven frowned. A weight dropped on his shoulders at the question. He didn't want to be rude to someone he had just met but didn't want to answer a personal question. He swallowed as his thin eyebrows wrinkled. "I'm sorry, but I don't think responding to a personal question is professional."

Mr. Hampton laughed. "Of course, of course. My apologies, but" —he leaned back on the chair, the sly grin spreading on his face— "for as long as I've known your superior, he's only ever brought pretty girls to the table. His former assistants were nice to look at, and I" —he laughed again— "I just can't wrap my head around how a guy can take on a job where he takes orders from another man."

Without thinking, Seven's hand slowly moved to Nicolas's knees, tapping on the fabric as he kept his eyes on the man before him. The assistant could've handled it himself, but he feared he'd say something out of line to someone he'd never met. For all he knows, the man commenting on his choices could be Nick's superior. Seven pouted, bothered by the comment. The gender remarks started weighing on his shoulders. He wanted to give the man an honest response, but he didn't know what to say. When Seven tapped on Nick's knee, he waited for him to jump in, but his CEO didn't do anything. Instead, the silence built up, and Mr. Hampton's patience was reaching its limit. Seven didn't want to say anything but needed to say something.

He was under pressure.

Oh, God, Seven thought, Mr. Anderson, if you don't say something...

The assistant moved his hands together and brushed his fingers in between each other. He gulped and licked his lips. "I find your sexist comments to be senseless, Mr. Hampton. There's no gender in a career, and if you think so, maybe a woman would've handled the news of a male assistant better."