Page 6 of Claiming Their Assistant

Trinity

Theseguysareoutof their fucking minds. There is no way they’re leaving the decision on whether they invest in this company up to me! I just fucking started working here! I’ve had less than twenty-four hours to research the damn company. I have no idea what I’m doing. This whole meeting could be a scam for all I fucking know! And they’re going to gamble their hard-earned money onme? I just… I fucking can’t with these two.

“You know damn well you’re overqualified to be a personal assistant. You went to Lilacastor University. You have a fucking master's degree in humanitarian action and conflict. If anyone can understand what these people are saying and make an informed decision on whether it’s worth the risk… it’syou,” Andrew declares.

“How did you know…”

“We know plenty. Now… Let’s hear your thoughts so far. We’re no masters, but we’ll help you prepare for your meeting.”

And they do. We spend all morning in Andrew's office going over every detail of the company and what little we know about the project they want backing for. The longer I spend talking to them, the more relaxed I get. I feel at home with them… comfortable. It’s an odd feeling, one I can honestly say I’ve never felt with another man before. But by the time we have to head to the meeting, I find I don’t want to leave our peaceful bubble.

But the conference room is already filled with people, and it’d be rude to keep them waiting. So I gather my notes and follow the two men that are slowly breaking down the walls around my heart. When we walk into the conference room, the men seated stand until I take a seat… the one at the head of the table that Andrew is holding out for me. Holy shit. This is really happening.

“Gentlemen, thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice,” he addresses the room.

Wait what? They agreed to meetus? And on short notice? What the fuck is going on?

“It was brought to my attention recently that you are looking for someone to finance your humanitarian effort. Trinity here,” he gestures to me, “is the head of our humanitarian division. She graduated head of her class with a master's degree in humanitarian action and conflict. I trust her qualifications are sufficient for you to take seriously. But in case they’re not…” He glares at each man seated at the table. “My brother and I will oversee your meeting to ensure you’re treating her with the respect she deserves.”

Normally I would be ticked that a man presumed I needed him to stick up for me… but I won’t lie. That was kinda hot. Hold on… did he say the head of their humanitarian division?Me? What are these fuckers on? And can I have some?

The room fills with murmurs of assurances, and I shoot him a look while our visitors are trying to kiss his ass. This is not over. Wewilltalk about that when we’re done here. The fucker just smirks at me.

“Very good. You may begin your presentation.” He nods before taking a seat with his brother behind me. I can’t see them, but I can feel their eyes burning holes into me.

Three hours later, the contracts are signed, and the team of very excited engineers takes turns shaking my hand before running off to get back to their research. Their presentation was very convincing. I know there’s no way to know if it’ll work or not until they try, but I truly believe it’s worth any amount of money to try. Even if it takes years to perfect, they’re not going to stop until they engineer the perfect potato.

World hunger is a tragic epidemic. If they can create a potato that can grow in any climate, is resistant to disease, and packs the nutritious value of half a day in one potato… It would be revolutionary. To be a part of something that huge… There was no way I could say no. I’m so unbelievably grateful the guys agreed and signed off on the partnership.

Now that our guests have all cleared out, though, it’s time we had a little talk. I turn to Andrew with my hands on my hips.

“Care to explain what the hell that was all about?”

“Well, you just signed your first contract to provide financial backing for a history-making humanitarian effort. Good job, love. You were amazing.”

“Shut up. You know what I’m talking about.Youcalled that meeting? And what is this nonsense about me being the head of your humanitarian division?! I’m not… I’m just your assistant. I am not the head ofanything.”

“Are you so sure? Did you read the employment contract you signed?” Andrew arches his cocky fucking brow at me.

“I was told my position would be that of a personalassistant,” I snap.

“First rule of the business world, darling. Always read the entire contract.”

“Ugggh,” I growl before stomping out of the room. Apparently, I need to re-read my fucking contract. Which I swear Ididfucking read before I signed it, and there was nothing about being anything other than the assistant.

“I’ll email you a copy of your contract, love,” Andrew says, much too fucking chipper, as he walks past me to his office.

Sitting at my desk, I wait for the email to come through. I don’t think I’ve ever clicked on something so fast in my life. I read through the standard contract legalese, pausing when I get to the job description. It was closer to the end, buried in a bunch of mumbo jumbo. I must have gotten tired of reading all the tedious nonsense and skipped ‌it in my excitement over getting the job. But in my defense, Meredithdidmake me believe I was being hired as a personal assistant.

Position Description:

As the head of the Humanitarian Division of Riggs Capital, you will be tasked with discovering appropriate endeavors for (Company) to fund, receiving business proposals, and accepting or declining any proposal for any reason you deem fit.

What the hell is this? Why didn’t Meredith tell me this was the job I was being hired for? Somebody has some explaining to do.

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