He Wasn't a Jerk In The End (He Wasn't a Jerk #4)

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

        "Hello, this is Mr. Stone from Stone Enterprises for Ms. Victoria Ashford on the position of my personal assistant. I would like to congratulate you on my behalf on your new job. I'd like if you could start next Monday at six-thirty A.M. sharp. Please wear work appropriate attire and come prepared to fill out some paperwork. I'm looking forward to seeing you soon, Ms. Ashford. Have a nice evening."

        I had replayed the message for the second time that night, gazing at my phone in bemusement. I had actually gotten the job. I didn't need my accounting degree to be Mr. Stone's PA, but it would look great on my resume when I did want to start an actual career in accounting one day down the road.

        Pulling up Tiffany and I's conversation while I stirred the noodles that would soon become part of my spaghetti dish, I quickly typed out a message to her that she would most likely get when she got off of work.

        Got the job at Stone Enterprises! I start Mon. @ 6:30

        I set my phone down on the counter after I hit the lock button and continued to stir the noodles in the almost boiling hot water. Tiff worked most weekends, especially around dinner time. She worked down the street at the twenty-four hour diner called Big Jim's Diner. I rarely ate there because word on the street is that they don't use real beef in their burgers. But hey, you didn't hear it from me.

~*~

        By Sunday night, I was an emotional wreck. Every pair of clothing I owned either wasn't held to my high standards of business attire, or looked more like club clothes than PA clothes. Sighing, I threw the white blouse onto my bed, seeing as I couldn't button the buttons past the fourth one.

        "Having some trouble?" Tiff said, leaning her body against my doorway. I turned around to find her holding a bowl of cereal, a spoon halfway in the air.

        I nodded. "I'm having a lot of trouble." I threw down the neon pink pencil skirt that I didn't know I owned onto the floor. "I have nothing to wear."

        Tiff tip-toed through the mass of clothes and set her half-empty bowl of cereal on my dresser and bent down to pick up a skimpy white camisole that I usually wore underneath a low-cut shirt. She gave me a quizzical look before flinging it behind her shoulder and walked out of my room, only to appear seconds later with an armful of her own clothes.

        "I know we're different sizes, but some of these things are too small on me." She said, and picked up a black pencil skirt that had little ridged lines cutting through the fabric.

        Tiff was the total opposite of me. Compared to my five-foot two frame, she stood tall at almost five-foot seven. She had the body like a model but a butt that went on for miles. Her straight black hair was a stark contrast with my once dirty blonde hair, but she has only known me as a brunette since I had met her.

        "I guess trying some things on couldn't hurt." I shrugged and took the pencil skirt from her hands, picked up a few blouses from the pile that appeared to be my size and made my way to the bathroom to change. Once inside, I stripped down and tugged on the pencil skirt. It was a tad too big in the waist area, but a few pins could fix that while I shopped for my own clothes. I picked up the red blouse that had a few ruffles around the collar area and put it on.

        Stepping out of the bathroom feeling confident, I did a little twirl for Tiff who was currently sitting on the edge of my bed staring at her phone. She looked up at the sound of me clearing my throat, and she smiled.