The Assistant || OffGun

Chapter 1

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"Hello, my name is Gun. I am here to apply for the position of personal assistant."

That sounded damn unconvincing, Gun thought.

Why is he was dressed in his damn best suit, and was holding the resume in his hand, did the older woman at the desk look at him like he was a complete retard?

"Curriculum?" The woman asked in an unkind way or the type you do when talking to prisoners.

Gun felt a chill run down his spine. Still he handed the file to the woman. He winced and quickly
licked his finger when a sheet of paper cut it off.

A soft breath from the secretary caught Gun's attention.

He arched an eyebrow when she directed her cold gaze on the leaves that had a few drops of blood in one corner. Shit! That was his last copy.

"Did the paper cut you?" The woman asked, looking up at him.

He frowned, feeling like a complete retard then he nodded.

"Yes, sorry, I'm afraid I don't have another copy with me. Maybe you could make one?" He asked hopefully.

The woman gave him a smile. Gun was in awe of the transformation, her smile seemed anything but that of a prison camp commander and was much more friendly.

He was even more shocked when she offered him the box of tissues.

"Here, take care of your wound," she said. "I'll take care of your resume."

"Uh, thanks," Gun said as he took a couple of tissues out of the box and wrapped them around his finger. The paper cut hurt like hell.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Gun," said the woman. "They will call you by your name when it is time for your interview."

Gun nodded, turned his face to the rest of the room. Several people sat waiting. Men and women, and each dressed in bloody dress. Competition for that job appears to be strong.

Gun was not surprised by the quality of people who applied for the position. It was a great position, a personal assistant to Mr. Off, the owner and general manager of Vaile Industries one of the largest pharmaceutical and research industries in the world.

Gun didn't think he had a hell of a chance of landing the job, especially after seeing the other applicants. They looked like they were from the big leagues and silver spoons came out of their behinds.

Gun had a Bachelor of Arts degree from Municipal University and a student loan debt of $ 13,000.

He didn't even have a place of his own because he couldn't afford it, he slept on his sister's couch.

Gun started walking across the room to a seat when he stumbled. He took several quick steps to avoid falling. Once he had recovered he looked around to see what he had tripped over, his face burning.

With nothing. What the hell?

He mentally rolled his eyes when he found an empty spot near the door and began the long process of waiting. He was the tenth or more of the people in the room so it would probably take a long time before they called him.

He saw several applicants being called and entering the room, one at a time. Most came out with pale faces, that didn't help Gun's nerves. He didn't know who was going to interview him but he should be tougher than the bulldog secretary.