Assistant to the CEO

Chapter Two: I Need a Drink

My first week with Clarke was hard. I was thankful I only worked three days of the week, well it wasn't even three full days. To work with my college schedule I could only work Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but I had a study group Wednesday morning, so in the morning Karen worked and then I came from there to work. So I didn't exactly have a full working week,  but come Friday I was exhausted. Especially with Clarke, despite my warning, continuing his trend of coming in late, even now he had his schedule available because I sent it to him nearly every day. The only upside was that it meant I didn't see him as often, and that part I liked.

"Can you not hear me or something?"

I lifted my head up from looking down at my work and saw Clarke, standing in front of me, not impressed, and his tie still not straight.

"What are you talking about? You haven't asked for me," I told him calmly.

"I was calling you on that speaker button on the phone," he said, pointing to my desk phone.

"You mean, this button," I said, pressing it down as I spoke, and I heard my voice echo from his office.

"Ah, so it's that button," he said, leaning over to look at it.

"So, what was it that you wanted?" I asked him.

Our relationship was definitely awkward. He literally only came to me to ask where and when he had a meeting. He hadn't really asked me to file anything, to process any deals, call anyone,  and it was only people calling him. He still didn't exactly talk to me either. I felt hatred growing inside me for him nearly every day.

"I was wondering if you knew how the weekend worked for me?" he asked me, picking up one of my pens.

"Your weekend...? What are you talking about?" I frowned, looking at my pen in his hand.

"Do I...work?" he said slowly.
I sighed, out of annoyance. "I don't think you can call what you do work, yet, but you don't have to. Henry did, if he needed to catch up on work. Karen is on call on the weekend if need be. Why are you asking this? So you can go out and party?"

"You think that little of me, don't you?" he said, looking into my eyes.

"Well, yeah," I shrugged, leaning back in my chair. "You have been late nearly every day this week, not to mention you definitely don't take any of this seriously."

"You think this is easy for me?" he suddenly asked confused, dropping the pen.

"Oh gosh, really?" I said with an eye roll.

"I was thrown into this," Clarke insisted. "My father died one day and I got told I had to take over and run things. I'm twenty-five, and I'm one of the youngest people in the city running a company, so excuse me for not knowing what I'm doing."

"Well, if you hadn't of spent the last five years running around the world with every girl you could get your hands on, maybe you'd know what to do in this situation," I told him.

"You read tabloids about me?" he asked, kind of surprised. "You believe everything they write?"

 "I don't have to believe them, I was close to your father," I informed him. "He asked me to keep tabs on you and when things looked bad, he would try contact you, if he couldn't get a hold of you, I knew what I read was true. I'm not an idiot."

"He kept tabs on me?" Clarke asked, genuinely surprised.

"Yes, of course he did," I said, standing up. "He was your father he cared, just like you should care about the company he's left behind. Now, if you excuse my day is over and I'd like to go home. Do whatever you want with your weekend. I'll be back Monday."