Seduction of the Innocent

Part 2

You stood in front of a dress shirt rack in the small clothing store you had found in a scramble to complete Paul's task. Holding up two different sizes of the same white long sleeve shirt trying to remember the singer's upper body form. Already spilling coffee on the man was a big enough mistake. If you came back with a shirt that made him look stupid during a TV interview with his bandmates, your workday would be over with.

"It's the arms that make it a problem. They are huge!" You mumbled to yourself,

"Is there something I can help you find, ma'am?" A voice called from behind you.

You turned around to find a sales clerk around your age smiling at you. Thinking a second opinion would be helpful to save your ass. You dug into your back pocket, fishing out your cell phone. Typing Paul's name into your search bar, you scan for a photo that had him shirtless for a better example. You glanced up to see the woman looking at you as though she wished she would have just passed by and ignored you had been standing in the same area for ten minutes.

"I'm trying to find a dress shirt, and need some help with getting the right size." You stated.

"Oh, I would be more than happy to help you with that. Can you give me a possible build type and we can go from there?" She asked,

"This is who it is for, and I can't fuck this up." You replied, flipping around the phone.

"Wow, Paul Stanley is your boyfriend? Girl, just let him go shirtless wherever you are going. I promise you any woman with a beating heart will be too busy either thanking you or drooling," She laughed.

"He is my boss. In fact, today is my first day and I've already spilled coffee all over him. That was before I even clocked in." You rambled.

You watched the woman look at the medium and large size shirts in your hand, then glanced back at the photo on your phone. She placed her hand on her chin and walked around you, scanning the same clothes rack you had been at having a minor panic attack. The woman pulled you from your thoughts as she held out two extra shirts, an extra large and a double x-large, and held her opposite hand out for the other two shirts.

"You think this will do it?" You asked, nervously.

"Swipe over to another photo of him in a shirt," she demanded

You did as requested and swiped your finger through images on Google until you landed on one singer in a long sleeve polka dot shirt. Zooming in on the picture, you saw how the chest and arms were not hulk type tight on him, but tight enough to accent his arms while the rest of the shirt was loosely. Thinking back to when you had seen him at the front steps of the door, the clerk clearly knew what she was talking about.

"Okay, will you ring this one and the large one up, just in case, please?" you asked

"Is he wearing his red shoes and tight black skinny jeans?" She countered as she walked with you toward the cash register.

"I'm going to be honest with you. I haven't looked below his belt region," You replied, handing her the card.

"Oh, I've seen the man in concert. He has a lot to work with and it doesn like to hide," She said with a smirk.

"Again, he is my boss, so I won't be looking anywhere else! Thank you for your help." You stated, running out the door.

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20 Minutes Later

"I'm sorry Mr. Stanley, the store was a little busy," You stammered, walking into his office.

Paul glared up at you and pointed to his phone, confusing you for a moment, until another voice came across the line. You cussed under your breath, remembering the list of interviews the band would have over the phone, in person, or pre-recorded. Looking at your watch, you sighed, knowing you had missed the fifteen minutes to help the singer prepare some. He pointed at the garment bags in your hands and then to the couch, giving you silent direction on where to put the extra shirts. You nodded your head and took a second glance at Paul, seeing he had changed into a white t-shirt, making you even more thankful for the store clerk's help.

"Do you think there will be another Kiss album, Paul?" A man's voice came across the speaker.

"That's something we get asked frequently. To be honest, I just don't see it happening. Monster was an awesome record, but fans want to hear their favorites. Everyone wants it for their collection, but if you ever watch a live concert DVD, be it ours, Aerosmith, McCartney. I can honestly tell you when a new song gets played because the audience sits down. I would only do another record if I felt we had more to say." Paul replied.

You looked back at Paul, seeing him grinning at the banter between the radio host. Just as you turned around to complete your original task, you crashed into the end table, falling straight on your ass and the table lap landing on your leg. You covered your mouth quickly and held your leg, as the guitarist scrambled out of his chair to check on you.

"Well, guys, it's been great talking to you. We hope to see you at one show this summer." the singer said, before slamming the phone down.

"I am so sorry, Paul, I mean Mr. Stanley. I'm usually not this big of a klutz," You said, scrabbling to get to your feet.

Paul squatted down in front of you, looking as though he was trying not to laugh at you. You stood up, laying his new dress shirts on the couch. Unzipping the bags and holding your breath, as waited for the singer to say something. He pulled a shirt out and walked over to the mirror, pulling it over his white t-shirt. Paul spun around a few times in the mirror, checking each spot of the shirt to make sure it fit correctly. He let out a content sigh and bent his head down to look at you.

"Wow, you've been with me for less than four hours, and you got the right size off the bat. Is that a back up shirt just in case you are around me with coffee?" He asked, smirking at you.

"Just another size in case that one didn't work. I promise to stay away from you if I'm drinking anything." You stated, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Let us just keep it with water for now. It dries fast and doesn't leave a stain." The singer replied, winking at you.

You looked down at the guitarist's lower half, seeing the skintight black jeans and pointed red shoes, just as the store clerk had said. Paul checked the large watch on his wrist and buttoned the shirt up quickly. Trying to pick up the end table and lamp to avoid any further gazing at your boss, making sure that everything was back in the same order.

"The cleaning crew can deal with that. I'm sure Heather gave you the list of interviews that will take place for the next three days?" The singer asked, turning to you as he ran his fingers through his shaggy hair.

"Yes, and it looks like you need to be down in the lobby in five minutes. Gene and you have to be at a news station by eleven. Is there anything I need to do while you're gone?" You countered..

Paul raised an eyebrow at you like he was doing everything he could not to call you stupid. Rolling the sleeves of his shirt up and adjusting his collar. He walked back to his desk, grabbing a notepad and pen, and walked toward the door. Following behind Paul, assuming he was going to give you a list of assignments for when he was out.

"First thing, you're going to have to learn to walk fast, especially if we have to be with Gene to do an interview. The cranky bastard always wants to be fifteen minutes early. Second, you are my assistant, so in most cases, you go where I go. Also, notes will always be important. Third, yes, I am a hard ass, and you will hear it throughout the office, especially from my bandmates. You only need to worry about my opinion while you are here. Understood?" Paul asked, as the two of you walked toward the elevator.

"Yes sir, I'm here for whatever you need," You said.

"Be careful with that statement, Y/N. It could get you in trouble." Paul mumbled.