The Stalked Assistant (Chapter-6)

I knock softly on his door and wait till I hear him say come in before I push them open and step inside his office, I look up and see him sitting at his desk, he must have just ran his hands through his hair because parts are it are sticking up all over the place and I have to admit, bed head looks good on him.

Pfft, get your shit together, Izzy. This is YOUR BOSS; I fuss at myself inside my head to snap me out of those unholy thoughts and brings the file to his desk before placing them right in front of him and peel off the sticky note.

"Sticky notes? That's childish" He snaps a look at annoyment forming on his face.

Well then, I happen to love a good sticky note, it comes in handy when you want to write down something and most are not very big so they don't take much room inside your purse.

I decide to ignore his little comment, he can think what he will about how I keep organized. He shouldn't care, as long as I keep up with him, it shouldn't matter how I keep him and his schedule on track.

Looking down at the sticky note, I begin to read off out loud what I wrote down.

"You have a lunch meeting at a restaurant called Rockys with a Logan Hall at 1pm. Around 3pm you should be receiving a call from your father and you have another meeting with Jack Simon in the board room set for 5:30pm." I say and hand over my sticky note, well not handing it to him, what I do is stick it on top of his desk.

He takes a second to look down at his desk before raising an eyebrow up at me. "Is this how you're going to be taking notes for however long, you remain employed for me?" 

"Well, why not? It gets the job done, doesn't it?" I asked probably sounding a bit confused on my answer, because why again why does it matter how I choose to keep track? 

"It's very unprofessional" He grunts and slowly peels it off his desk before rubbing the sticky strips it left behind looking annoyed. "See" he says after and points at his desk, nothing wrong with it just left a little smudge.

Hmm. He must be a clean freak if that small smudge bothers him so much.

Sighing loudly inside my head I tell him. "I won't stick them on your desk anymore, Mr. Claiborne." 

"That's not the point! What business do you know actually uses sticky notes like this? I haven't even gone over your work file. Have you worked in a position like this in the past?" He asked, in a sharp tone.

Crap.

The answer would be a freaking nope.

"N-no, sir." I mumble out, am I about to get fired? Over a dang sticky note.

"Yes, I can tell. I should fire you for this mess but you're lucky, my father told me that going through so many assistants makes the company look bad" He growls before tossing the sticky note on the floor, near his trash can.

I stare at him, mouth wide looking like I'm probably shocked speechless and because well I am.

He actually wants to fire me over sticky notes, but he won't because his father fussed at him.

Oh Jesus, if I wasn't too scared of pushing his buttons I would laugh, in fact I'm having to close my lips tightly together from keeping the laugh from escaping.

"Again, I'm sorry, I won't be sticking them on your desk anymore, Mr. Claiborne" I repeated hoping to at least make him a little less annoyed with me at the moment, even though he can't fire me for something so minor, I don't want to give him a real reason to do so.

"Are you sure this is everything for my day? It looks a little short. I'm usually way busier than this." He says before actually bending over to where he tossed the paper while he was throwing his tantrum and picking it up, scanning his eyes over the now crumbled up note.

"That's all I saw on your calendar for the day." 

I don't know what else to tell him, I'm not sure who made the calendar but everything I saw is on that sticky note, I guess today's a slow day for him.

"I'll just double check" he says as he brings his hand to the mouse pad and does something on his computer.

Go ahead.

I mean I wrote down everything I saw, his not going to find that I missed something, nope I checked three times.

"Seems this is all" He mutters, looking a bit disappointed. He was probably hoping I missed something so he could fuss at me somemore.

Hahah not happening this time Claiborne.

"As I said" I told him, keeping my tone light but inside my head I'm cackling like a dang hyena. It feels good to win against him, even if it's something so small as this.

"I have a little time until I have to head to my first meeting, let me give you a better run down on what I expect from you as my assistant. The word personal means you're my assistant in anything that I wish you to be. If I called, you early in the morning before work telling you to pick me up something you do that. If I shoot you a text while I'm in a meeting, you write that down and add whatever it is, where it belongs. If I need to go on a trip somewhere for business, you will be coming with me to do all those things. If I ask you to call someone and tell them I'm late, you call them. Do you understand?" He says looking at me like his waiting for me to answer, but goodness he just finished talking.

I'm aware of what a personal assistant is, I was already aware before I walked into this office, hell I was aware the minute I hung up with Amanda after accepting the job offer.

I'm more than clear on the things I'm expected to do for my boss.

He didn't need to say all that, but I guess it's better that he did, now at least I know for sure what he himself will be expecting of me, but he better not call me at 5am wanting some fucking coffee.

I wouldn't be responsible for my answer, I like my sleep and don't like being woken up already much less for freaking coffee.

Of course, I don't say that, instead I say.

"Yes, sir, I understand Mr. Claiborne" 

"We also need to speak about your clothing choice" He snaps, shaking his head as he longs on at my dress.

What's wrong with it?

I look down with a frown forming on my lips and check out my dress, it's nothing fancy and hell it didn't even cost 15 bucks but it's not ugly. 

"What do you mean?" I almost growl out, why is he judging what I wear now?

First my sticky notes and now my dang dress.

"That's not appropriate for the workplace. You look like you're dressing for a night at the club instead of a multibillion-dollar company" He snarls pushing his chair back before standing up.

Wow, buddy.

"A club? Are you saying I'm dressed like a, like a slut?" I whisper the words out, harshly. This is too much, his looking at me with distain in his eyes and I can't freak stand it.

I don't even know why.

Yeah I was a bit late this morning, but it was my first day, I didn't know where to go or where to park and the traffic and that horrible rude woman downstairs.

"If the heel fits" He shrugs, actually freaking shrugs like what he said was not at all a big deal.

He is sounding like an asshole, and I definitely believe what Amanda said now about those women leaving his office crying.

He is going to have to do a lot better if his expecting me to do the same.

I won't take his mouth though, yes as my boss he can fuss at me all he likes about work things, but my clothes. No. Nothing is wrong with my dress right now, I made sure. It's not too short, it doesn't show off my boobs, hell you can't even see my freaking thighs in it and he still wants to sit there and talk like I'm showing my body off.

Asshole.

"Look. I'm sorry that not everyone has enough money as you, Mr. Claiborne. I'm sorry if my clothing rack hasn't exceeded your expectations but this was my nicest dress that I own at the moment and for you to even suggest what you did is completely uncalled for!" I snarl at him because I have had enough, I can take some shit, but this is his judgyness? It's not one of them.

He stares at me for a few moments, eyes slowing narrowing but he doesn't say a word he just stares at me, hard.

Crap did I get too far?

I should apologize.

"I'm sorry that was very rude of me, but you as a man shouldn't judge what women wear. I followed the dress code that was in the company document Amanda emailed me." I say in a lower tone, as I try not to flinch away from his gaze.

"You're showing your boobs off, I hardly call that following the dress code" He snorts before lowering himself back into his seat.

"I'm not! As I said, this dress follows the dress code Mr. Claiborne. Should I go find a booklet or something for you to look over?" I asked him, I'm not trying to be sarcastic I promise but his condescending bullshit is just going too far.

"No, I do not need you to fetch me a document on my own company, thank you!" He snaps, and then changes the subject. "Do you have a workable phone?" 

"Of course I do, Mr. Claiborne." 

Who doesn't have a workable phone in our society?

I mean well some people don't like the Amish, but you know what I meant.

"Here is my card. It has my number on it. Text me so I can have your number, Isabella." He pulls out a card from inside a drawer attached to his desk and slides it over.

I quickly picked it up. "Is that all, Mr. Claiborne?" 

"For now," He waves his hand towards his door, dismissing me again.

Well alright. Guess I'm not fired, I should really watch my mouth though, that could have gotten much worse.