2 Willow

The next morning, I woke up to the annoying increasingly louder scream of my alarm clock at 7:00 am. That pulled me from a halfway decent dream and crashed me into the reality that is the 'real world'. I covered my head with my miss-matched pillowcase, simultaneously throwing my phone in a random direction, before getting out off of the couch, growling my way into business attire that was sprawled across the floor. In the form of dressy grey pants, a simple black loose top and blazer that was double breasted. It both managed to made me feel nice and grossed out all at the same time. Much like everything else about me. Then, I brushed my teeth in the most aggressive way and straighten my medium lengthened curly red hair into submission, before giving up half way through and pulling it up into a messy bun. Which it promptly started to fall out off. I rolled my eyes and added something like 15 black bobby pins to it, and applied makeup to cover my dark circles and mascara to my eyes and walked out of the bathroom throwing on my dress shoes that were not heels, because we should all say no to modern torcher devices, kids.

I then huffed my way into my kitchen and poured myself a shot of rum, before chasing it down with a large hot cup of coffee as was my morning route as of late. Let me tell you, it's 10/10 when it comes to not becoming a raging killer you hear about on the news. I get why they do it and all, but jail never sounded like that much of a vacation to me. The food is the true down fall, though the people seem like fun. But, I gotta have my Reesies once a month or bad shit happens. No way, I'm sucking lady dick for it neither, so rum for me thanks. (Oh, and it is not Reese's Cups. Its Reesies, and you can fight me on it.)

I grab my worn out jacket and bag out of the front closet, before releasing a string of curse words as the frosty Boston air ghosted across my face. I gritted my teeth and shuffled my way down the stairs and to the side walk of the busy city. Sure, I was on the shit side but at least I felt as though I belonged. I stopped to freeze my ass off on the bus rest bench, as I rubbed my arms over my jacket's long sleeves.

"Yo, Willy. What's doin' ?" I looked over to my left to see my favorite street bum, Andy. Who likes to put a 'y' at the end of my nickname, because he thinks it sounds more Boston, and my weak accent, I guess just doesn't cut it for him.

"Hey Andy, It goes. you know, same shit different day and all that jazz. You?" I huffed, grabbing a tootsie roll from my pocket and giving it to him as he sat beside me, smelling worse than the norm.

"So don't I." He hacked, taking the candy from my hand with his gloved fingers and unrolled the wax paper around it and popped it in his mouth. His aged and worn face showing that of delight as a small smile adorned his rosy wrinkled cheeks. "You never forget my favorite snack. What a plum."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah only to smelly old farts like you." I scoffed as he mocked offense, adjusting his black beanie, shivering to match my discomfort of the cold as well.

"Now listen here, you Skeezah. You Just jealous of my moxie." He said pointing a long finger at me making me tilt my head back and laugh.

"I'm not a drug addict, you basket case." I smiled as he reached into my pocket and pulled out another tootsie roll as well as stealing a cig out of my pack, as He lit it up. As I threw up my hand in a fake annoyed jester at his friendliness with my pockets, but lit myself up a cig as well.

"No, But you are an alcoholic." He lifted a brow as I rolled my eyes again. He can be rather judgmental, despite his position, which I have to admit gives the old man charm.

"You arn't wrong, Andy. But you got to be so harsh about it, hold your blows or somthin'." I blew smoke in his face as he fanned it away, as I shook my head.

"Miss, I would hold my blows if I thought ya couldn't take it, it's a compliment really" He gruffly spoke out of the side of his mouth as he hacked again, while I patted his back. He really shouldn't smoke, the old geezer.

I flicked my cig away as, I heard the bus drive up as a trail of smoke followed behind it. Looking at Andy and smirking at him before kissing his worn cheek. "Look Andy, come by tonight, I'll let you shower at my place, if ya promise to let me be a happy alcoholic without complaint." I laughed as I grabbed my bag and started walking up the bus steps, as I heard him grumble. "Happy, my ass." As I smiled to myself once more and shook my head.

I showed the bus driver my pass, before making my way to the back and plopping down, next to a window and put my earbuds in drowning out the rest of the annoying people I might of heard.

Once, I made my way to the office downtown, I walked in as the doorman smiled at me. "Hey there, Willow. how's the morning treating you." The door man, that I honestly didn't remember the name of smiled warmly at me. He was a young fella with red hair and green eyes, an Irish boy if I ever saw one.

"Sup dude. Other than it being wicked cold and me being wicked tired, I'll live." I shrugged as gave me a goofy grin.

"Well, You're chipper as always." He added as I lifted my brows and held my coffee cup high as somewhat of a cheers to his statement, before walking into the elevator cutting off a woman that looked familiar, but most likely just because of the look on her face.

It looked like something crossed with a pretty woman, and a cat that just licked a lemon for the first time. I deadpanned at her and hit close on the elevator doors and headed to top, and walking off heading straight for the coffee maker.

I poured a large amount into a special thermos that I kept under the work cabinet, before adding exactly one spoonful of cream, of the low-fat verity and two of the pink sugars that make me very sad that natural selection didn't just run its course. I then added the lid after a good stirring and walked into the head office and tapped on the door that was see-through, but damn if I wasn't a payed slave and did exactly as I was told. Despite the stupidity of it all.

Mr. Dawn was on the phone as it looked, with his beautifully tailored brown leather shoes crisscrossed on the desk, leaning back in his chair. His light brown hair slicked back with jet black strands falling on to his forehead reaching thick brows hooded over his ice blue eyes.

As you can guess, outwardly this man was beautiful, inwardly he was a demon that really should have been eliminated at infancy. He waved a nonchalant hand, motioning me to come in, as I did. I very quietly opened the door and place the cup of coffee on his also, glass desk (what can I say, the man was a narcissist, must like seeing his reflection) as he strained up and grabbed the cup a he waved his hand at me again, as I sat at my much smaller desk in the corner that was not glass but black imitation oak.

He continued his phone call as he sipped his coffee and mumbled on about prices for this and that, he was a pretty famous CEO of a company called Bright Ink and co. If you haven't heard of it, it's a company that supplies new innovative house hold technology. You know, the one that brought you, something along the lines of smart homes. Yeah, to me it was completely unnecessary technology, but hell they're the reason I keep my heat on in winter, so what can I say.

They man was still a royal tool, despite that squeaky clean resume he might have, I've worked here for three years and he still treats me more like one of his technologies than an actual human. I start my work by grabbing his calendar and looking over his appointments that were scheduled for today, Thankfully it was one of his less hectic days, which really wasn't saying much.

I bet you're wondering how a person like me got this job, or very well sustained this job for so long, knowing my personality defect of being a bitch. Well, to put it simply this man is the only man I know of that is a bigger asshole than me, and that's saying something. So, I'm the only one that can put up with his ass and vice versa. His last assistant actually met me at the old bar I worked at down in Southies. The pay was good so I agreed to an interview, now I'm stuck with a job I hate, but pay I love. Can you blame a girl?

"Willow. What the hell?" I heard a phone slam on the monitor as Mr. Dawn looked at me with bewilderment and frustration.

"Yo, Chief." I looked at him with a blank stare, resting my writing hand on my oversized calendar.

"Why does my coffee taste like shit." He asked straightening his back in his chair holding up the thermos as if its presence offended him. (Did I mention I was basically his care taker?)

"It's coffee, it's supposed to taste like that." I said my expression not changing as he cocked an eyebrow, before pinching the bridge of nose, and shook his head.

"I've asked you repeatedly to not give me coffee from the office, have I not?" He said leaning back in his plushy black leather chair as the sun began to finally rise behind his head, as I squinted.

"Chief, the coffee in the office is the same coffee you'll get everywhere else, but for free." I smiled as charmingly as possible as he furrowed his brows together.

"Did I ask for free coffee or coffee from Monks?" He asked referring to the very fancy coffee place about 4 miles out of my way, and I'll be damned if I was going to walk my happy ass all that way, on top of spending 7 bucks for a lousy cup of coffee, not even for myself.

"Don't know, Chief." I said and shrugged going back to working on his schedule, adjusting things that have changed from last night, that he sent me in an email.

His shoulders fell as he gave me a look that said 'I know you're bullshiting me again.' He stood up and walked over to my desk and sat on the edge of it, facing me. I rolled my eyes as his jacket covered some of my calendar. he looked down at me unbuttoning the button of his very fancy grey suit jacket that was done in a douche bag European style, that screamed I might be gay, and I'm insecure about it.

"Remind me again, why I haven't fired you yet." He asked as he crossed his muscular arms over his chest and tongued his cheek in a very pretentious kind of way. In fact, pretentious is the perfect way to describe this man, from his boringly silky ink black hair, to the tips of his Italian leather shoes that I had to pick up for him from a business associate.

"Because, you know that when it counts I'm the best, and no one else will do as good of a job, while also dealing with your temper tantrums." I scoffed out, moving his jacket over so I could write a note down. I'm sure, you're feeling rather shocked by how I just spoke to my boss, but let me assure you, this an everyday banter that the man just finds entertaining. Like a child with a looking glass above an ant bed wondering why this one ant just won't fry even on the hottest of days. He chuckled looking away from me, and scanning the office.

"I guess so, Miss. Stanley. I guess so." He said as he walked back over to his desk and sat down looking annoyed that the little game of wits was over, as he crossed his hands on his lap. "What's on the agenda today."

I looked at him and brushed a stray hair away from my face, as I stood up bringing the note pad with me, and starting to list things off. "You have a meeting with Star electric at 9:45 in about an hour then you have to be at a photoshoot and interview at 11-1:00 pm with the Boston times, then you have lunch with your Girlfriend and parents at 1:30 and I set up a reservation at LaQuanda Gardens, her Father's favorite, that is only 5 mins away from the interview sight to insure you get there on time." I started in on my usually spiel that I give him most every morning except Sundays, my day off. If I'm luck I get Saturdays off, with a few phone calls from the devil.

"LaQuanda..I hate that place, Willow. Really?" He scoffed and frowned like a spoiled child, but ignored him and kept going, as I paced to keep myself from strangling him.

"After lunch with them, you have about 3 hours to kill and do your paper work that you desperately need to do, then to end the day, you have a board meeting at 6:15 and I'll pick you up whatever you want to eat as long as you don't complain about a thing to me, because I'm not your momma and I hate that shit." I finished and looked at him with a most likely stern look, just daring him to say a word of discontentment.

He shifted in his seat and looked past me overlooking the waiting room, at the blonde secretary, that was putting on lipstick, as I rolled my eyes and snapped my fingers in front of his face. "You got all that, playboy." I growled as he glared at me, with an ice cold expression.

"Oh course, Willow. You promised me a free meal." He chirped as he smiled at me, a dimpled tugging on his cheeks in what looked like what I assume you could call a charming way, but it just made my skin crawl.

"Gross, don't smile at me like that. Also, no way my broke ass gonna pay, I said I'd get it for you. Using the company card you gave me." I sighed and started gathering up his things. "Now come on it's a 30 min drive to Star Electric enterprise, and you really can't fuck things up with them, Your father would kill me, if I let you do that. Not that I care, But I can't let my 27 dollar an hour job go down the drain, because you suck." I snapped throwing his heavier coat at him.

As he caught it with ease, before putting it on. "Don't get your Walmart brand panties in a twist. Everyone loves me, it will be fine, I'll sign a deal in no time." He scoffed at me in a low husky tone, starting to show his usual frustrated mood that he had for most of our time together.

I arched one of my dark eyebrows at him, showing my obvious disbelieve as he huffed and brushed past me out of the office and heading towards the elevators as the woman from before that I let the elevator doors close on, walked in behind us. As I felt a sudden urge to hold her head between the doors and let them close, allowing the pressure of the steal plates pop her head like a week old zit.

I knew the lady was one of Mr. Dawn's desk workers that he was starting at in the waiting room. I didn't much like her, not because of how she looked, which was a turn off but even with all of her blonde hair fake tit-ed glory, it was how her voice sounded. She was British and I was Boston, that was already a strike against her. The Boston tea party explained that thought process of mine pretty clearly, but it didn't help that she cooed around the boss in such a way that it made my job more annoying if even possible. So, I bit the inner side of the cheek and tried my best to keep the murderous thoughts far away from my mind, but as I suspected, it was a rather difficult task. She sidestep closer to Mr. Dawn, making a click clacking notice with her stiletto red heels. The sound made sharp pain bleed into my skull with each high pitched tap.

After years of forcibly having to study the mind of the deployable creature that is Mr. Dawn, it really wasn't that hard to read his (to most people stoic) expressions and know exactly what he was feeling. At this moment, while Angie, I think that was her name, who is practically pressing her chest against him.

He was feeling nothing, but distain.

He was the type of man that looked at easy women, even imaged them bending over his desk, but doesn't actually want them around him, because of that very fact. As if their beauty, doesn't outweigh the fact that they have been used already. A true scum of the earth if you ask me. A scum, worth millions, but scum non-the-less.

Angie was asking him what he had to do today, and other boring small talk that had me just as nauseated as Mr. Dawn looked. I smiled hinting it behind my hand, silently enjoying the inner suffering that I knew he must have been feeling. I truly was a rare enjoyment, but a welcomed one.

Oh, and just to be clear, it was not her appearance that I did not like about this woman, but her complete lack of personality that is void of one, single, likable quality. In fact, my best friend even looks like an Asian version of Angie. Yet, I'd say that Gigi was way more attractive, simply based on her character.

Once, we hit the first floor Mr. Dawn quickly scampered down out the door, my shorter legs struggled to keep up with his longer strides leaving the woman in the dust as I snickered.

"Ew, What are you laughing at? Something bad usually follows that sound…" He said shivering in mock disgust. I looked at him, with a dead pan as he slowed his pace giving me a chance to catch up with him.

I rolled my eyes at him, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Eyes too big for your stomach on that one huh, Chief?" I scoffed opening the backseat door, of the black Bentley, that the driver just pulled up in.

He glared at me and got in the backseat, slamming the door behind him. I just rolled my eyes, getting in on the other side, scooting over more to the middle as I told the middle aged man the address of Star Electric, before he nodded and we started on our way. As I relaxed back into the nice light leather seats, behind me.

"My eyes and stomach are just fine, if you must know." His voice said smooth and calmly as I rested back as well. He looked over at me and smirked, his trade mark half-smile that I hated more than anything. "Why, you jealous?" He asked with an annoying flirty undertone meant to make me feel sick to my stomach. Which was very successful.

"Jealous of what, having stiff silicone rubbed against my arm? If I wanted that I'd go to a strip bar in Southie." I scoffed pulling out my headphone's preparing to drowned him out with some of my old school jazz music.

"Oh, Is that the place you use to work?" He mumbled letting his eyes drift shut, for a moment.

I rolled my eyes and put my headphones in my ears and turned the music all the way, making sure there was no chance in hell I would be able to hear him. I wanted the suffocating notice his mouth created to be drown out as much as possible. As I just flipped him off, looking down at my phone still.

"Saw that." That he mouthed opening one eye lid as I pretend not to notice him.

"I wanted you too." I scoffed and checked emails, letting the people at Star electric that we were on our way. The young man, I was speaking too, was very kind, and seemed to be the secretary for the female CEO. I know that they have been trying to work out a deal for us in which they will get invest in our new line of Smart houses if we market them as the leading electric company at the interview we have after this with the Boston Times.

I pray to whatever the hell is out there that the Chief doesn't fuck this up for me, because that means his father with give me that holiday bonus I've been asking for, for a year now.

Once, at Star Electric I gather my bag and jacket as we head in, Mr. Dawn right behind me. He follows me silently as I lead him to the elevator. I've been here once before and remember rather well where to go.

"Why are we here again?" I signs and looks at his phone already looking bored.

"The investment deal. Your father should have filled you in." I said sending a text to Mark (That sweet secretary) that we are here.

"Right, I can barely listen to that old man long enough to make lunch plains let alone an investment plan" He ran a hand through his hair again in the way he does when he's frustrated.

I turned to him, letting my eyes tell him, he was an idiot. "You're kidding. James, I swear to god, if you fuck this up I'll-" I was cut off by the sound of the elevator door opening as I saw Mark boy the door waiting for us. He was a chunky, brown a haired fellow, with thick glasses, but his style was on point. He was wearing a nice white sweater under a refined grey suit and light grey scarf and jeans. Very professional casual.

"Mark!" I exclaimed happily, now in full business mode. "How are you today?" I asked reaching out my hand as he shook it with a smile, as I could practically feel the jerk rolling his eyes behind me.

"Very well! How are you today, Mr. Dawn, Miss. Stanley." He asked also reaching out his hand to Dawn, as I promptly kicked my bosses leg lightly to finally get him to take Mark's hand after a hiss.

"We're doing well, Thank you." He mumbled not making eye contact with the overly friendly young man.

Mark looked at the small exchange of Dawn and I, with a small flash of understanding, as If this was something he experiences as well. "Well, I lead you to the conference room, Mrs. Sanpher is waiting on your arrival." He smiled and turn on his hells ushering us to follow, as we did.

He lead us down a hall and to a large room with a long cherry wood table with a few older woman and men sitting around it. At the head was a rather harshly beautiful, woman with sandy blonde hair that was pulled into the tightest French twist that I had ever seen. Her vibrant green eye's where piercing, she was clearly in her mid 30's and had an air of classiness that surrounded her.

She stood up showing her nicely fitted dull red pant suit and white blouse, that buttoned up to her neck, and somehow still showed her thin figure. She looked somewhat scary…

"Mr. Dawn, Pleasure to make your acquaintance, please take a seat." Her voice boomed in a commanding way, as she gestured to the seat at the other said of the table.

Dawn sat down gracefully as I sat by the back wall, near Mark. I rushed through my book bag to find my colorful pen with a large flower on the end of it and black notebook.

As Mark followed in suit, pulling out a very organized set of pens, highlighters, and a sleek leather note book.

We would have been polar opposite is it was for the obvious similar situations we resided in. Unlike Mrs. Sanpher and Mr. Dawn which were basically gender-bender versions of themselves.

"The pleasure is all mine." Dawn said smiling in a way that meant business. As they started right into business. All numbers and percentages, that I wrote down as quickly as I could.

Dawn, despite his cruelty and less than sunny disposition, is nothing short of a business genus and very persuasive when he wanted to be. The issue was the fact that for the majority the time, he really didn't want too. So, it was my job to force his hand a little..

They continued on and on about how much they will invest and how much of a percentage they wanted in return, with both Mark and mine's bosses being rather hard headed on bother sides. After a few heated comments back and forth, with a few tasteful jokes thrown into the mix they came to an agreement of 10% for 1.3 million. Which, I'd would have once been stunted by, but now am amine to the numbers.

"Very well. I'm glad we've come to an agreement." Mr. Dawn stated standing up walking over to Mrs. Sanpher, and shaking her hand firmly.

"Yes. Don't forget putting in that good word for us, as the interview you have later." She smiled in a way that didn't mean her eyes, and felt more threatening than anything.

I leaned over to Mark and whispered into his ear as he began to back up his notes.

"God, she's a scary woman. How to you survive?" I asked him truly curious about how this kind hearted young man, can be around that human of stone. It's like a lion and a lamb.

He looked at me and smiled cheekily. "She gets a whole less scary, when she's the one that complains to you about being bored and questing you get her chocolate on those days of the month or as you to set up her dating profiles on dating sites." He whispered back as we both giggled like school girls conversing in the juicy gossip.

"Mark." "Willow." Both of our bosses snapped at the same time as we both instantly stood up and looked at them like mire-cats.

"Come along." The devil barked at me, as I followed waving back to Mark. As Mrs. Sanpher pulled Mark into the office with the curl of her finger, like a mother to a child.

Mr. Dawn and I walked back down to the car as he sighed loudly. "You seem to be having fun, while I do all the work. Must be nice, messing around, talking to four-eyes like two middle schoolers." He grumbled look rather displeased, not that I gave a flying fuck.

"Yeah, it was rather pleasant to actually communicate with a decent human being for a change, other than a well-trained man-child." I mumbled feeling my mood worsen the second we got to the car. I swear, this man could hold a world record for how fast he can change someone's mood from sweet to sour.

"Well, I'm sure a woman like you must have trouble finding people to actually participate in the act of talking with you, consider the fact that you rather like holding those around you verbally hostage." He bit out crawling to the back seat, as I sat next to him unwillingly.

"Coming from the man that spent 3 hours with your tailor describing the exact color of blue you wanted your navy suit to be. That's a hostage situation if I ever saw one. After you left, it looked like he might of had PTSD." I glared at him, as he opened his mouth to say something, before our driver interrupted asking where we were headed next.

I looked down at my hello kitty watch and growled. I was already 10:13 am and we had to be at the Boston times building in little under an hour. "Boston times, Make it snappy." I stated with a stern voice as our driver began to zip off into traffic.

We surprisingly got to the location in record times, as I mentally wrote a note to request the same grey haired man for the next we had a tight schedule. I looked over to at Mr. Dawn for the first time since we left the Star's building. He was pouting out the window watching the people pass by his window.

"Let's go." I snapped at him grabbing my bag. "Driver, we'll be done around 1:00 pm." I smiled at him softly as he returned the jester and drove off to what I assumed to park.

"I hate interviews.." He grumbled walking into the building as I pulled my notes from my bag and shoved it into his chest.

"I know, because you suck at them. That is why I wrote you up some answers. I got the questions last night. Don't stray from these, or God so help me, I'll-

"Yeah, yeah. You'll cut off my balls." He interrupted me and rolled his eyes looking down at the notebook as we stepped into the elevator.

"No, I'll tell your father the truth about why his new wife was at your apartment's last week." I smiled triumphantly.

"Wait, but she was just dropping off some stuff that I left at home." He said looking as me confused as I pressed the top floor button, feeling the elevator start to raise.

"He doesn't know that. who do you think he'll believe after your fling in England." I smirked at him with an eyebrow raised.

"It was my fault! Her daughter looked nothing like her. Plus, he didn't even like his 3rd wife!" He said loudly a slight red reaching the tips of his ears.

"Dude, it was technical you're step-sister. Not cool. He totally trusts me more."

"you wouldn't" He said with a slight fear in his voice.

"Wanna try me?"

"Bitch."

"asshole."

Once, we reached the top a woman pulled Mr. Dawn into makeup and started to go to work with fixing his hair, and straitening his suit. I sat once more against a wall and watched his brows knit together as he read the questions and answers I had given him to study. He looked non-to-pleased. One can only hope that the threat I had given him did the trick.

We can't have any investors back out. After the last interview we had with business weekly, I'll never trust him with talking to someone alone again. Plus, If he cost me my bonus, I might really kill him. I have to have the things I need in life, like my cigarettes and my peanut butter cups.

Before long, Dawn was being photographed in front of a white backdrop looking bored as ever, as a man that seemed way too excited about his job, was spouting out lines like: "smile with your eyes." And "Give me more emotions." The poor man doesn't recognize that Mr. Dawn only has three emotions. Anger, flirtation and boredom. Well, flirtation is bit generous, because it's usually done in sarcasm or manipulation.

Yet, looking at him, trying his best to smile was both amusing and somewhat interesting. I rarely every see a genuine smile, that wasn't in some way a smirk. His smirks are almost condescending in nature, and it never met his eyes. But, right now with him looking into the camera. He kind of looked human, attractive almost. They made his hair and clothes slightly more disheveled, the vaguely waved strands falling into his face making his ice blue eyes pop even more. His thick brows scrunched together in effort, as he pulled an uncomfortable smile, that somehow made him look cute. In a pathetic type of way, like a little boy posing for his family photos, struggling to stay still.

Before I even realized, I was starting to stare. Dawn suddenly looked up at me as his face grew stern, our eyes locking as I mouthed "You look dumb." With a smirk of my own before, he cocked his head to the side and glared, mouthing "Screw you," Back at me. I smiled ever so slightly, before thinking about taking a few photos of my own, to make fun of him later.

I've been to many photoshoots with his man, so I've gotten used to seeing an already attractive man at his best, but knowing his ugly personality kills any mild attraction before it can even start. Yet, most of the other ones, wanted him with his classic slicked back hair and crisp suit, so I was used to seeing him like that, but this time, it's different. They wanted him in a white button down and jeans. I rarely saw him in casual clothing. He's so uptight about that sort of thing that it was a bit un-nerving to see him like this.

I was snapped out of my thought's as the rather flamboyant photographer, snapped his fingers in front of me. "Hey, you. Can you get this guy to make a look that doesn't look like he's either bored or congested." He asked as I looked at him straight faced for a moment, before busting out laughing as I heard Mr. Dawn yell "Fuck you," over my laughing.

"I'll try, but no promises." I wiped tears from my eyes and tried to control my belly laughter, before walking over to Dawn as he took a step back.

"Yo, psycho. What makes you smile." I asked crossing my arms over my chest, behind the photographer.

His face deadpanned. "Every once in a while I daydream about you dying alone in your apartment and cats eat your body as the age of 80, that thought brings me much joy now-a-days." He remarked drily as a few people gasped. But, I only smiled.

"I'm more of a dog person. If I wanted to live with an annoying asshole, I'd just move in with you." I glared right back as the room grew even more quiet.

"Aren't you supposed to be making me laugh." He scoffed "Not pissed off."

"You get one embarrassing moment of mine. How's that?" I asked giving up just wanting the to be over with already.

"Depends, how embarrassing." He twitched his lip, feeling rather satisfied.

I sighed, and looked around. "I went on a Tinder date two months ago, with a guy I thought looked hot in the photo, but there was two men in photo. It turns out the overweight guy with the neck beard and fedora turned out to be my actual date. What made it worse, is the fact that I tried to play it cool like I wasn't disappointed and didn't realize that I was wearing a white shirt, and I walked there in the rain. I was wearing a bright pink hello kitty bra that day. You see where I'm going with this, right?" I sighed as he slow began to smile.

"Yeah, continue." He said now full engaged.

"Well, he made a comment about my bra and I punch him, then he screamed that he was only staying because he thought I was trying to get laid, but he wasn't into my face." I covered my face looking down as I heard him and a few other's fighting back laughter.

"And?" He gritted out through trying to hold back giggles.

"After, I punched him, the manager of the restaurant called the cops and now I have to go to anger management classes, until June, to avoid having an assault charge on my record." I growled out the rest, as the room went quiet again, I guess now realizing it was kind of a seriously depressing story.

But, not Mr. Dawn, he was billowing, unable to control his giggles, as I looked up seeing that he was smiling from ear to bloody ear. The photographer quickly started snapping photo as photo.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" He continued to hack and cough while trying to bite back laughter. "You went on one date and got arrested?! And neck beard didn't even want you!"

The whole room looked at me with pity as the photographer announced that he got all the shoots he needed, as a smile started to slowly grow on my face. As confusion started to grow on his face as his laughter started to die down.

"OH! You thought that was real?" I laughed and facepalm. "Dude that was literally a scene out of my favorite movie! Came out forever ago." I watched as his face fell fully. Well, that was mostly true. I did make up parts of it, so it's not a complete lie.

He smiled still not clearly believing me. "What movie if it really didn't happen?"

Think fast! think fast!

"The Notebook." I smiled right back. I know he's never watched that, He's way too much of a manly man to watch it.

He looked annoyed as all hell. He looked at the girl next to him that did his makeup. "That true?" I looked at her pleadingly as she looked at me then back to him and nodded.

"Yeah, it's pretty well known." she added quickly as she noticed he looked back at me. She clearly understood my situation and smiled at us, then awkwardly scampered away as Mr. Dawn shot dagger's at me.

"Well, I believed that bullshit actually happened to you, so clearly you're pathetic enough for me to think that was a logical thing to assume." He said brushing past me to the chairs interviewer.

I rolled my eyes, as he sat down across from a man with gray hair and brown ray bans, and a nice blue button down. I watched in silence as he repeated every answer I gave him, perfectly. Some times that memory of his true scares me. Hints, why I have been very careful about sharing anything about my personal life with him. I learned early on in this job that, Mr. Dawn remembers everything. He can memorize things in seconds. His life hasn't come easy to him just because he's rich or abnormally attractive, but also because of his insane intelligence. Which, should make me like him, yet it just adds to his overwhelming annoyances. This man is like a constant reminder of how much of a screw up I am as a human.

Which, makes you truly wonder that if he wasn't such a raging narcissistic jerk, He might be the perfect man. Then again, it does bring me comfort that he's terrible at any type of communication or I may be out of the job. As long as he's this horrible at communication I'll always have a steady income. Not one of his other personal assistants have lasted longer than a month. Yet, here I am 3 years strong, and he can't fire me, because his father still is the head, and refuses to let his business tank, because his son keeps saying and doing completely moronic things when it comes to actually human interaction. Not to mention his extremely loose morals as a young man, that was only tamed through threat of being cut off from the family fund.

The young make-up artist from before walked over to me and gave me a soft smile. I sighed and looked at her young round face, and stud through her lip and eyebrow. "First day?" I asked softly.

"For this photographer, yes." She said looking back at Mr. Dawn, crossing her arms. She had a soft voice, but not in a way that would make you think she wasn't confident, but in way that seemed kind.

"He nice?" I asked curious if she hated her boss as much as I hated my own.

"Yes. Just kind of out there. As most artist are. Name's June." She said still focused on Dawn.

"Willow. Nice to meet you." I smiled at her finally. "I'd end up snapping his neck if he was that high energy all the time. I don't like hyper people."

"It can get annoying in the mornings.."

"I bet."

"He's kind of terrifying. How do you do it?" She nodded in the way of Mr. Dawn.

"Well, He's the first boss I can talk shit too, and he can't fire me. I snap pretty easily so, I couldn't hold down a job, before. So, honestly, I don't really have a choice.." I let out a humorless chuckle.

"You know, in a weird way.. It almost seems like you guys care about each other." June mumbled as I looked at here like she grew three heads.

"You're crazy." I said shocked. "Like really mental."

She just laughed and shrugged. "Maybe, I am."

I looked over at Mr. Dawn as he looked back at me with a glare. This girl is truly insane. That man has never cared about anyone in his life. I watched as his glare slowly turned into a small smirk as he spoke to the man across from him on the other side of the room.

There is no way that I care for him either.

Is there?