The Assistant

Note from the Author:

Hey all.

Amateur writer here, this is the first story I actually puts together to publish, and I'm looking forward to honest opinions on it.

Chapter one mostly sets the scenario I will work on. I intend to tell a fairly long story, but it won't take too long until things are heated up.

English is not my first language and I apologize for dumb mistakes.

Of course, everything and everyone is fictional.

Hope you enjoy :)

*****

Chapter one -- The Terms and Conditions

Dirty blonde hair carefully settled in a classic side part, not a strand daring to stick out of place. Yet, more than once he had ran his fingers through it, as if to intentionally put a dent on the minutia of his looks only to look relaxed. It didn't work: the precise symmetry of the stubble along his jawline, the absence of wrinkles on his clothes and even his fingernails made clear to me that the guy sitting across from me took a very long time to get ready after showering.

Great, now i'm thinking about him in the shower.

I silently berated myself, but emptying my mind once it got going wasn't an easy task.

And this is how I got caught staring.

"Do you have any question?" the man named Aaron's voice brought me back to reality, and to the diner where we sat across from each other. I blinked and forced my eyes to focus away from his blue eyes and onto the print out I was supposed to be reading.

Tiny letters, bold letters, numbered items, clauses, paragraphs... Did they really expect me to read all of this while watched by Captain America? The job listing had informed next to nothing, and the recruiter seemed to be okay leaving me figure those out myself while he enjoyed his coffee and observed people on the street. Now, however, his eyes were fully on me. And I had not answered.

"Hm", I started, putting aside the contract papers. "Okay, let me get this. The opening is for an assistant position." Arron confirmed with a deep nod of his head. "And what would I be assisting with? And whom? Will I work for you?"

Aaron didn't look much older than my 23 years-old self, but he did pass an impression of higher maturity than me. Or, at the very least, better finances, judging by the brandy clothes he donned.

"

For

me? No, not exactly," he rested his coffee mug. His tone was gentle. "We are employed by a company, which provides us with funds for an assistant. I'm sure you read about the functions before sending your application" I had not. But his honest eyes seemed to believe I had, so I decided not to correct him. "You'd be paid by the company, technically I would not be your boss".

"And the projects are...?"

"On a need-to-know basis." Aaron completed, almost apologetically. Even in the awkward position trying to hide that had been one among hundreds of job applications I had submitted in the previous weeks, my eyebrows raised at his answer.

"Nothing shady, I hope." Or illegal. But what to expect when every step of said 'job interview' had seen fishier by the minute? "Although it's not like I can be picky right now."

The last mumble was to myself, but I certainly was not ready for Aaron's response. He chuckled and, as it faded, left behind a smile so genuine I felt my faces warm up. While not a teenager anymore, my introspective nature would always make it hard for me to accept that kind of attention from people I could find attractive, and Aaron beat that threshold by light years.

"Believe me, I would talk your ears off about my work, if I could." He ran his fingers through his hair again. "NDAs are in place and must be considered. Perhaps when we have you aboard we can discuss more about it?"

Still recovering from the trance, I acquiesced. Then remembered there should be more things regarding the pile of papers I would never read. I pushed myself to speak and, when I did, I sounded eager.

"When will I know if I am hired?"

Aaron looked confused, as to decide whether or not I was joking again. He pointed at the papers.

"This is the final contract. If you sign it, you are hired." His brows furrowed slightly at my hesitation. "Is something wrong?"

Lots of things were wrong. A simple coffee, no infinite multilayered interviews, no rude wait for a response that would never come? A dazzling wage (this part of the contract I had read, of course), benefits and somehow I had been chosen without even trying. Aaron hadn't even asked relevant questions about my education or work experience.

"Me?" Was my only word.

"We read your application, we discussed among the team. Together we chose the assistant," Aaron explained patiently, adjusting the empty coffee mug on the table in a parallel angle with the tabletop. He breathed in deep and wet his lips briefly with the tip of his tongue "You don't have to feel pressured, we have a plan B and a plan C, for the case in which you don't accept. Currently, yes, you're the plan A".

All was said in a polite, matter-of-fact manner, but I could notice the glimpse at his fancy watch, and the way his fingers moved slowly towards the briefcase.

Well, what the hell. Aaron raised his eyes to my extended hand, then to me. There was a spark of something in his shiny blue eyes as he brought a pen from the briefcase and handed to me.

I signed the paper, on all the pages.

*****

More than two weeks had passed after Aaron left me at the café with a handshake and a curious smug on his face. Despite the time, I was only slightly more informed about the job I was about to start.

It was Sunday afternoon and the driver sped through grassy lots, having left the latest city building behind almost one hour ago.

At least I won't have to commute here, I thought. The first surprise I received when I actually read the contract I had signed was that the job would require me to move into the quarters together with the team. And nobody was happier than me: it was like the universe knew how desperately I needed to leave the apartment I shared with two stoners. Besides, not having to pay the abusive city rent would never be a problem.

More savings for me.

The taxi took an exit to the right and minutes later stopped in front of the steel gates of a fenced property. The only one I could see around. Wheeling my suitcase and carrying a backpack, I approached the gate as I heard the taxi drive away. There was nobody around, but, before I could reach for the doorbell, a voice called.

"Hey!" The owner of the voice jogged across a garden towards the gate, giving me time to register the great shape of the body vaguely covered by a black tank top, yellow beach shorts and sunglasses. Immediately caught my attention. Swiping a card, he opened the gate. "It's my bad, I should've been here when you arrived. I'm Josh."

"Callum." I accepted the extended hand. The tanned skin felt warm to touch.

"Of course you are!" Josh had big relaxed smile which matched perfectly his beardless face shining with energy. "Let's go inside? Okay, first..." finally letting go of my hand, he looked around and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.

"Oh. You don't need to..." but Josh had already pulled it towards himself. Then he reached out for my backpack, too. "I can carry those", I protested.

"You could, but I insist," he didn't wait for an answer. Throwing my backpack over his bare shoulder, he took two steps in before stopping. "C'mon, I'm in charge of showing you around. Let me do a great job at it, so you can do a great job later."

And so he did. I followed Josh to a very imposing house in the middle of the property. As we walked around climbed the steps for the front door, he excitedly showed me the external facilities, which included a pool, a barbecue area and a multi sportive court.

"You'll get a card like this," he mentioned after using his to open the double-leaved main door. "Actually better than this, I think yours will open pretty much any door in the Complex."

The Complex, such a geeky nickname

. Installations were indeed impressive, though. The entrance hall was open to a large living room with two ambients, to an open kitchen with long dining table.

"That corridor takes to the gym, and to the game room," he said. Without sunglasses, Josh had beautiful dark honey eyes and expressive eyebrows matching his dark brown hair. "At least that's how we call it, although we don't have too many games. Anyway, now we take you to your room".

I followed him up one of the twin staircases to the second floor. Simpler than the floor below, it appeared to be made solely of bedrooms, the closed doors disposed symmetrically along a wide corridor. Josh took me to the door at the end of it, the only one perpendicular to all the others. On the door, the number 7.

"As the assistant, this is where you stay. It should be unlocked now...yep." The door opened easily and what we found inside muted me. Further.

The bedroom was almost bigger than my whole previous apartment. King-sized bed against the opposite wall, four columns ending in round finials. To the right, two armchairs surrounded a circular coffee table, opposed to a couch. A long office desk took place along the left wall. Doors for what seemed to be a walk-in closet and a spacious bathroom faced each other near the entrance.

Something was off. It didn't take the four semesters I stayed in college to calculate that one was by far bigger than any other bedroom. Moreover, while the rest of the visited rooms had been tastefully decorated, that bedroom had the refinement of a 5-star hotel. The assistant's bedroom. It just didn't add up.

I turned to Josh, who had walked in behind me and looked around the bedroom with interest.

"Have you not been here before?" I asked, and he immediately looked at me. I hadn't talked much since we met. He smiled, caught on his curiosity.

"This bedroom is off limits for the rest of us," he shrugged at ease. Whatever else he planned to say was interrupted by footsteps and voices from the corridor. Josh turned on his heels and opened the door completely.

From the corridor, three men walked as ant line, carrying the large boxes I recognized.

"It's what you get from skipping legs day," the first man mocked over his shoulder with a deep voice. Very tall, dark skin and short spiked black hair, he carried the box with my belongings as if it didn't weight more than a pillow.

"It's what I get from not picking the lightest box, as you did," snapped the second man, considerably shorter and seeming to be struggling more with his choice.

"Is the door open?" asked a familiar voice. Aaron closed the line.

I blushed awkwardly at that amount of service. If I was hired to assist them, why were they carrying my boxes? I moved to help, but Josh stopped me with a light touch on my shoulder.

"Here," he said, open way to guide the carriers. One at the time, they carefully placed the boxes containing all of my belongings on the floor at the feet of the bed. "Calum, meet Edward, Samuel and...you know Aaron, right?"

"I do. Almost. I mean, we talked," I stumbled on words while all of them faced me. My face was boiling.

"It is a pleasure to meet you", Edward's voice was deep as thunder, and I had to look up to match his dark, calm, eyes while he took my hand with both of his.

"Call me Sam" the second guy in line looked younger than me and shook my hand after drying his own on his shirt. Short, blonde and purposefully messy hair. "Cool place you'll have here, huh?"

Aaron was dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. Once done, he too smiled at me. "It is nice to see you here. We should go and leave him in peace," he observed to the others, who nodded and prepared to leave. "Please, do not hesitate and call us if you need help getting settled."

"I'll see you later!" Sam greeted. "I am on cook duty this week."

"Much to our dismay," Edward input in a low tone as they both turned their backs to leave.

"Eh, why would you say that?" Sam clapped back at the tall man. "What will Callum think of me now?"

Their bickering continued along the corridor as Josh and Aaron took a last look around before following them out.

"Wait," I asked and they stopped. "I have questions".

That was the understatement of the year. Nothing of that was clear. The huge house in the middle of nowhere; the company which seemed to hire models directly from a male underwear catalogue; the royal accommodations and these guys treating me like I was a celebrity and not someone there to clean up the place and organize their schedules. These were things I could wing.

What the hell is an assistant here?

Closing the door, I invited Aaron and Josh to sit on the armchairs. Which they did tensely, sitting on the edge like teenagers in a principal's office. I fought my own anxiety and prepared myself to talk.

"I am supposed to start working tomorrow, " I started, sitting on the couch. "and I'm still not sure what will be expected of me".

They exchanged a confused glance.

"Well that would depend on who you're with, no?" Josh answered slowly.

"That's exactly what I mean -- I don't know!" once started talking, it was easier to just let everything out. "Am I here to clean? To cook? Laundry? Gardening? I need better specifications".

"No, no. No way." Josh's face showed consternation, a wrinkle between his brows. "That's not it, we have our own chore duties, you don't need to do those".

He looked at Aaron, who seemed to share his trouble.

"Did you not read the Terms and Conditions?" Aaron asked in a disapproving tone. "Before applying for the position?"

"I did not," I admitted, and felt the flush of blood migrating to my faces at the same speed as the men before me deflated in frustration like leaking balloons.

After a moment with his forehead hidden in his hand, Josh spoke.

"I knew it. I told you that ad was crap." Aaron started protesting, but Josh interrupted. "You didn't want to hear it. Who reads fifty pages of rules?"

"I do!" defended Aaron, irritated. "Besides, if you remember, such clauses are not of the kind that could be explicit and explained with drawings like a comic book".

Ouch. The jab hurt. Of course, that wasn't the first time my ADHD had put me in trouble. Even then, it was hard to keep up with their discussion, not with so many details drawing my attention, such as the elaborate tattoo on Josh's arm, or the way Aaron's lips pressed together when he was tense.

"...they will not think twice before cutting the benefit." Aaron was explaining. I really need to learn how to focus.

"People here will be pissed if they do."

"And the projects..." Aaron didn't finish. Instead he ruffled his hair again. Then silence.

"Uh. Excuse me." I tried. Both men looked up at me, but it wasn't like before. They looked tired and the initial excitation was gone. "Maybe you'll want to let me in on these terms. I'm not brilliant, but I can do my best. Then all of this wouldn't have been for nothing."

Yes, I wanted to stay. Going back to live with filthy roommates and to the search for jobs was a nightmare, after seeing what was offered in the Complex. I could wing it, whatever it was.

Josh seemed to consider for a moment, then shrugged. "You tell him."

Aaron's attention was fully on me. He leaned slightly forward and placed his fingertips together.

"This house is owned by LexoDev as an asset to accommodate key employees near their R&D center," he explained. "It is the case of the six of us living here, we have our projects and hold office at the main building. The complexity and secrecy involved on the projects bring the main purpose of the Complex, which is to tend to our needs and keep us as focused as possible."

"Basically, as a part of our contract, we should not be back into the cities or agglomerations while projects are active," Josh said.

"Very exceptional cases occur. Case in point," Aaron rushed to point out, as if to make sure our previous interaction had been well within rules.

"And just like the gym, the pool or the weekly groceries deliver, there's the assistant," said Josh. The tension from the discussion slowly left his shoulders, and he rested his back on the armchair. "There is six of us. We organize so that the assistant's time is distributed among us, and he is left with a day off every week".

"Somewhat like a secretary?" I suggested. Helping them organize their schedule, taking messages and helping with overall organization. Those I could do.

"Yeah, a very close type of secretary maybe. Some days all we need is someone to talk or play tennis against," Josh had gone back to the normal relaxed tone I had met him. Perhaps even enticing, as he could perceive the idea attracted me. One of his eyebrows rose. "On others, we might need the assistant to help out our sexual needs."

My eyes zapped immediately to Aaron, expecting the square, rule-abiding guy to chastise such a joke. His blue eyes were dead serious.

"Yes, definitely the sexual help plays a big role in your functions".

***to be continued***