Personal Assistant (MXM - EDITING )

Chapter 12: Tying a tie

The next day was typical for the PA. He woke up and ate a bowl of cereal around 11 in the morning, practically still asleep. He reviewed his emails for work, responding to the ones that corporations have sent relating to the donation party.

It is now 5 p.m. Several more minutes and Nicolas was going to be at the door. Seven sat on the couch, going through his phone. For a moment, he was peaceful, but once he heard the doorbell chime, he jumped.

He walked to the door, shoving his phone into the pocket of his grey sweatpants. Opening the door, he started to feel his arms quiver. The assistant smiled to himself, seeing Emilee standing in front of him. His body eased up, and he realized how tense he was with the idea of his boss coming over to his apartment. He didn't know why either; it wasn't like it was the CEO's first time at the apartment.

"Hello!" the light voice sang, "I was going to go see if you were wanting to hang out yesterday when we met at Wrap n' Go, but I saw you walking into this apartment before I had the chance to stop you."

Seven narrowed his eyes at her, "So- you're stalking me?"

The blonde girl shook her head, frowning, "What? I'm not! I was going to head back to the fast-food place, but I saw you already leaving! I wanted to know if you'd like to go out to eat again."

The assistant let out a soft sigh, turning away from the door and walking back to the couch, "My supervisor is coming here any minute, so I can't really-"

"Aw, I won't bother," she responded. Emilee walked in, her blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders, "Wow, this is a nice apartment."

Seven rolled his eyes, hearing the door shut behind him, "Do you think so?" he asked, trying to sound enthusiastic.

She hopped on the couch that was near the kitchen, crossing her legs, wrinkling her skinny blue jeans," I mean, as I look around, I don't see one wrapper laying around."
The brown-haired male snickered, sitting on the sofa that was against the wall, "I don't work well around trash."

She rested on the couch, putting her hands behind her head, as she stared at the ceiling, "OCD?"

"Nope. I just don't work well in a dirty environment," he corrected, staring at her. He was a bit surprised at how easy she made herself at home as if she hadn't just met him yesterday morning.

She examined the room, still lying on her back, "You must have a lot of money with a TV like that. How old are you? 20? You seem to be doing well on your own."

"You ask a lot of questions, huh?" Serene sighed, "I'm 21. Not rich, just saved a lot as a kid."

"I'm 20. I guess that one year apart does come as a benefit," she frowned, turning to her side, her arm hanging off the sofa, "I have an 'ok' apartment, but it's really dirty. I get lazy, so I don't do a lot of chores."

"Gross. I can't imagine how it looks." the assistant joked.

"Shut up, Seven," she murmured, almost whining.

The freckled-face assistant smiled gently to himself, "Thank you for sticking with the name."
And it was nice. It was a genuine thanks. It was the first time he decided to be referred to by a different name since he moved away from home. Hearing his suggestion being acknowledged was comforting.

She gave me a thumbs-up, "You did tell me to call you that. Serene did seem like a name a guy wouldn't fancy. Though everyone's different, so there's no shame in going by your real name."

"Yeah. My mom expected a girl." He grimaced. The thought of it disheartened him.

"I never met my mom," she spoke casually.