Personal Assistant (A Bruce Wayne Fanfic)

one

Staring at the mirror, you took in a deep breath. You could do this. You could get the job. Even though it's as the personal assistant of Bruce-fucking-Wayne and there would be hundreds of other gorgeous girls lining up for the same job. Other girls who were way prettier than you.

There wasn't much special about you. You had boring (Y/H/C) hair and boring (Y/E/C) eyes. Even as you glanced at yourself in the tight red dress you wore, you knew you were at a disadvantage just because you didn't have the plastic surgery curves that would appeal to the billionaire playboy. 

Ring ring

You were shaken from your self-deprecating thoughts as you heard your phone ring. You answered without even looking at the caller I.D., already knowing who it was.

"Hi sweetie!" (Y/B/F/N) screamed in your ear. You laughed at her eagerness while still keeping your phone a distance from your now-aching ear. "Are you excited about the interview?"

"No," you said hesitantly. "I just feel like i'm wasting my time with all this. It's a lost cause."

"Nonono," (Y/B/F/N) said quickly, "No negative thoughts. Only positive. You never know if you don't try. Plus, don't you wanna check out Bruce Wayne? I heard he's even hotter in person."

You rolled your eyes in response. "Stop it (Y/B/F/N)! This is a business opportunity, not a night out at the club. Besides, I don't even know if Bruce is going to be there. I mean, he's Bruce Wayne. Why would he even be there? I'm sure he's got other things to do."

"Yeah, but this is for his personal assistant. He's going to want to be there just in case they pick someone crappy."

You got where she was coming from, but these minor details didn't matter right now. What you needed was a good job, so that you can stop living in this torn down apartment that you've been living in for the past few years. You were barely surviving with the pay from your... other job.

"Anyway, (Y/B/F/N) I need to go, my Uber should be here soon. Talk to you later?"

You said your goodbyes to your best friend and hung up, ready to go to the interview and see if the stars had finally aligned.

---

 "(Y/N)?" The lady called you up finally as the last blonde bombshell walked out of Bruce Wayne's office. "Mr Wayne is waiting for you."

You felt your legs shake as you stood up, but you forced yourself to look confident as you walked over and pushed open the door into the office. You could do this. Just like (Y/B/F/N) said you could. 

But as your eyes met the jaw-dropping, handsome, dark haired man, all thoughts and rationality left your head. He was leaning back in his leather seat, with that charming smile of his, and you were so allured by him that you didn't even notice the chair right in front of you.

Before you could realise what was happening, you were tumbling through the air, and staring at the ground, you thought you saw your life flash before your eyes. This was it. You were going to die, either because your head broke on the floor or from utter humiliation. 

But before you could meet your death, a strong, muscular arm caught you by your waist. You looked up and your (Y/E/C) eyes met stormy, oceanic blue eyes, knowing it was that of your saviour. 

"I-I um," you stumbled through your words in your frazzled haze.

Bruce Wayne was holding you in his arms, with a gentle,  concerned look etched on his face. "Are you okay, (Y/N)?" 

"Yeah, um. Sorry i'm just really clumsy." You said, still unable to look away from the mesmerising billionaire. You stared at his sharp jawline, wondering what it would be like to run your finger along it. 

He let go of you, and instantly, for some reason, you missed his touch. "That's okay," he said with a smirk. "I like being a knight in shining armour."

You felt like there was a double meaning behind that, but you didn't question it. You plopped down in the chair - without falling this time- and looked at Mr Wayne, ready to answer his questions, despite your humiliating start.

"So, (Y/N), why do you want to work at Wayne Enterprises, and what makes you want to be my personal assistant?"

You ran his questions over your head before you answered. You had to be smart, and absolutely not mention the fact that you were broke. 

"Honestly?" You started, "I'm inspired by you. I know about the different foundations you have, and the many kids you've adopted, and I want to help the good cause. You have done so much for Gotham -okay maybe not as much as, say, Batman- but you always make a change. And I'm tired of working for crappy employers I hate."

Mr Wayne looked almost shocked by your answer, which you were surprised by, because all you said was the truth. Despite his playboy ways, you had heard many good things about him. You completely understood why he was always referred to as the "white boy of the month" on Twitter. He was definitely one of the better ones. 

"Why are you giving me that look?" You asked. 

He gave you a knowing smile. "No one else has given such an honest response like you have."

You tilted your head. "Is that a good thing?"

Gathering some papers into a pile, he said. "I think we're done here."

"What?" You were so confused. Did you do something wrong? Dammit of course you screwed it up!

Not wanting to linger longer and embarrass yourself further, you stood up and headed to the door. Just as you were about to open it, you said, "I'm sorry, Mr Wayne."

"What for?" he asked with a smirk. He called out, "Kelsie?" 

A blonde woman wearing a grey pantsuit opened the door. "Yes, Mr Wayne?"

Mr Wayne stared right into your eyes, as though he knew every part of you, as he said. "I've chosen my personal assistant."

Kelsie's eyebrows rose. "But Mr Wayne, there are 27 other candidates still waiting-"

"Call them off. I've found the right person for the job."

Kelsie nodded and headed out. 

You looked at Mr Wayne, and asked, "You're hiring me, Mr Wayne?"

"I am. Welcome to the job," he responded. You nodded and went to leave, but you turned around as you felt his eyes on you. That was a mistake, you had realised, as it only increased the thick, lustful tension in the air. Your body felt hot, and you knew your cheeks were flushed. God, you were in for one hell of a ride. 

"Also, (Y/N)?" Mr Wayne said, "Call me Bruce."