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I, Samantha Clarke, hereby agree to the outlined terms and conditions above, and shall adhere to and honour the terms of the contract of employment, until such a time where my services are no longer needed, or if any of the aforementioned criterion have been violated.
After scribbling her signature in the space below for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon, Sam set down the pen and pushed it across the table. Wiping the palms of her hands over her thighs before folding them back into her lap, she watched as the woman – she couldn’t remember her name, she was so damn nervous – promptly scribbled her signature in the space next to hers before shuffling the slew of papers before her.
“You’re very lucky, Miss Clarke. I was quite impressed by your resume. Not just anyone is selected for a job like this – though, I have to ask,” she questioned suddenly, removing her red framed glasses from her slender nose, “why a personal assistant position? Surely, with your qualifications, you could easily apply for anything else.” She eyed Sam carefully.
Sam shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers.” The woman eyed her for another moment before she seemed content with her response, and continued to break up the papers in front of her into three separate piles.
Unsure of what to do, Sam pulled her bag from the floor and placed it onto her lap, assuming that the interview was nearing its end. After an entire afternoon of questions, filling out papers and scribbling her signature more times than what felt socially acceptable, she’d landed a job as a personal assistant.
“So,” Sam began, shuffling nervously in her seat, “who is my employer, if you don’t mind me asking?” Now that she thought about it, the name of the employer was never disclosed throughout the entire interview process – not even once. At first she dismissed it; someone enquiring about hiring a personal assistant would have had to have some substantial amount of wealth, or security issues, and assumed that they didn’t want their details disclosed until they had selected a candidate.
However, despite landing the job, she had never been given a name.
The woman – Alice, that was it – looked up at her before reaching for her briefcase.
“From here, we send off your details to the agency, who will then in turn send your details to those who have asked for a personal assistant. That process takes about two days, give or take, once all the paperwork is signed off. Once that’s done, your new employer will contact you, and you will go from there.” The briefcase snapped shut as Alice stood from her chair, Sam quickly following suit, pulling the hem of her skirt before sliding the chair back in.
Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Sam followed Alice as she headed for the door, brows suddenly furrowing. “Wait, so you don’t know who my employer is?” Sam asked, confused.
Alice shook her head. “Afraid not. The service through which these employers seek personal assistants is an extremely tight-lipped one. These employers can range from lawyers, business directors and even to actors – it’s simply the luck of the draw. We have no say in who your new employer will be.”
Alice must have seen the look on her face, who let out a chuckle as she opened the door for her. “Relax, kiddo – with your credentials, I'm sure you’ll make a fine personal assistant.”
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FanfictionIf you were to ask Sam what her plans for the future were, let’s just say that living with a famous actor certainly never crossed her mind. However, through a stroke of fate – or bad luck – Sam must now learn to live with her attractive and famous b...