ZAC was doing his absolute best not to eavesdrop on the one-sided phone conversation happening in the office behind him. The effort was mostly in vain, he thought, seeing as how his boss was screaming his side of it.
'And how exactly is that my fault!? No! I don't! Yes, you do! Look, Ally-- Oh, you wouldn't! Don't you dare! You-- I swear if you-- What do you want from me?! What the bloody hell do you want from me?!? Fine! See if I give a flying fart what you do! Just do it then!' With an angry growl, MacIntire threw the phone full force into the wall, shattering it.
After a heavy sigh, Zac reached into the top drawer and withdrew one of the temporary mobiles he kept on hand for such an occasion. He punched a few keys then walked to the office door, the newly activated device in his hand. The knock on the door didn't stop his employer from pacing angrily across his office, mumbling to himself. Zac finally had to clear his throat to gain some attention.
'What?! What do you want?'
'I-- I have a-- a new mobile.'
With a grunt, he grabbed the phone, continuing to pace. 'Bloody bollocks. The shite I've made for myself. Why? Why do I do this to myself? Every bloody time! I'm not wrong, am I, Higgins? Am I in the wrong?'
Zac's head swam with confusion. 'I-- I don't know, Sir. I don't know the situation, you see.'
The enraged man really wasn't paying much attention at all, seemingly lost in replaying the conversation in his mind. 'There's nothing I could be doing differently! I'm a very high-ranking member of one of the most powerful companies in England! In the entire bloody UK! I'm busy! I don't have time to drop everything at a moment's notice to placate someone's every whim!'
Zac rolled his eyes and spoke under his breath before he realised he had. 'But you have time to scream and complain about it.'
His employer whipped around like a shot. 'Sorry? What was that, Higgins!?'
Zac felt his heart jump into his throat as he realised how loudly he had actually spoken. 'No-- Nothing! I didn't say--'
'No, I heard you say something, what was it?'
He gulped hard. 'I'm sorry, it's not my place--'
'Higgins,’ he said with an eerie calm.
The assistant felt as though his mouth had gone completely dry. 'Yes, Sir?'
'Close the door.'
With his heart in his feet, he did so, trying not to bolt out before it shut. 'Sir-- Sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean--'
'Sit, Higgins.'
MacIntire sat down as Zac did, then spoke quietly. 'Mr Higgins, I admit that, at times, I am out of touch with most people around me.'
Understatement of the century.
'And it has been suggested that I would greatly benefit from the advice of others on such matters. Namely, you, Mr Higgins.'
'M--me, Sir?'
'Yes. You. Now, you have exactly--' He looked at his watch. 'Six minutes to speak completely candidly about what I should do in this current situation.'
Zac felt as though all of the oxygen had left the room. 'S--Sir, I don't think that's-- that's such a wise decision, I mean--'
'Please.'
The word cut through Zac's like a knife. It was a word he'd never heard from his employer before--and one that he wasn’t hopeful enough to believe he’d ever hear again. With a deep breath, he spoke. 'All right. May I know the situation first? To better advise you, I mean.'
MacIntire took a long moment to consider, apparently deciding that being vague was better than nothing. 'I've forgotten an important date. Again. It's been made clear that this is an unforgivable offense and that, if I do not correct the situation... the status quo will change.'
'And... you do not wish the status quo to change?'
'No, I do not.'
'And you can't just apologise?'
'I think that ship has sailed.'
'Right.' Zac was still feeling more than uncomfortable in his own skin as his employer stared at him. He fidgeted nervously with his glasses as he considered the likelihood of running away and still keeping his job.
MacIntire’s impatience finally won out. 'Well? I'm waiting!'
'I-- Sir, I'm just not sure--'
'Ugh! What! Do you want it in writing? Fine!' Angrily, he grabbed a piece of paper, speaking as he wrote. ''I, Augustus James MacIntire V, promise not to fire”-- what's your first name?'
'Za-- Zachary, Sir.'
‘''--promise not to fire Zachary Higgins for comments spoken on this day--''’ He looked at Zac.
'The-- ninth of July.'
He nodded, finishing the note and signing with a flourish. 'Now you have four minutes. Go.'
Zac stared at the note, summoning all of his courage to speak around his increasingly drying tongue. 'It’s just-- it always strikes me as odd that you can remember things related to business-- even the birthdays of employees you don't care about-- over important events of those in your personal life.'
'Business is important! I'm a high-ranking--'
'Yes, but--' He gulp hard as his boss shot him a look. 'Don't you see? By saying business is important enough to remember those things-- is like saying those in your life-- aren't as important.'
'But, that's just not true. They're more important.'
'Then, Sir, you need to show it. Put them first, once in awhile. The company won't crumble just because you go to a birthday or a party. That's why you have staff-- it's why you have me. To make sure the world keeps spinning while you're away.' MacIntire leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face. Zac took this as a sign of encouragement, continuing: 'How is it that you remember things for work that you don't remember in your personal life?'
'Well, I have lists, reminders in my computer, my mobile... and, as you said, I have you.'
'You are taking the time to make those lists, to set those reminders, to tell me important dates. So, why is it, exactly, that you haven't taken the same care and attention in your personal life as you do in business?' MacIntire sat quietly, a furrow creasing his brow, making him even more frightening to Zac. Clearing his throat loudly, the assistant stood. 'I think my time is up, Sir.' His face on fire, Zac made his way out of the office, only to be stopped by his employer's voice.
'Higgins! If you would, send one-- no, two dozen-- long stemmed red roses to this address...' He jotted it down as Zac slowly crossed the room to retrieve it. 'And a note. Simply, “I'm sorry. -Augie”. File the address under “Ally”. You may need it in the future. And clear my evening. I have some-- damage to repair.'
'Just to remind you, Sir, you do have a meeting with the board at six.'
This gave MacIntire a long moment’s pause before he finally shook his head. 'No, this is more important. Send them my apologies and reschedule for tomorrow morning.'
Zac nodded, leaving hurriedly to complete the tasks and to recover from what had just happened.
~*~*~
LOOKING at the folder in his hand, Mac finally felt satisfied with its contents and snapped it closed. 'Higgins! A word!'
'Yes, Sir?'
'Come in, shut the door. Higgins, you said something yesterday that really stuck with me.'
The man’s eyes widened with panic, no doubt remembering the previous afternoon's conversation. He couldn’t blame him. Having such an intimate discussion about his personal life hadn’t been a picnic for him, either. 'Sir?’
'I need to take more care in my daily life, specifically outside of this office. And, it's fairly obvious that I can't be trusted in that area, so I need-- help.' Mac did his best to work passed the foul taste the word left in his mouth and handed his employee a folder. 'I need a personal assistant, not just a business assistant. And I believe you are the man for the job. That folder contains the full list of duties I would expect of you, plus a new proposal in salary. Compliance is not required, but I strongly encourage you to accept, as is evidenced by the generous raise.'
Higgins looked as though he may have a stroke when he got to the back page. As rightly he should, Mac thought; it was almost double his current salary. 'Sir, I can't possibly do all this, plus my current workload.'
'Yes, I'm aware. Which is why you would be getting your own assistant. Think of it as becoming the-- manager of my personal offices. You would be the boss of the person who takes your job, seeing to it that they do adequate work in your stead. And, you'd be taking the office next to mine-- two floors up.'
'Two-- two floors up, Sir?'
'Yes. I got promoted this morning. It was actually the meeting that you cancelled so that I could take care of my-- personal affairs. Thankfully, the board understood the situation. So? What do you say?'
'I'll-- I'll have to think about it. It'll take some-- consideration.'
Mac nodded. 'Of course. Take the weekend. I'll expect an answer Monday. But, before then, I need you to send one dozen white roses to Ally.'
'Any message, Sir?'
There was a long beat of silence as he chose his words carefully. 'Yes. It should read: “Just not yet. -Augie.” Trust me, the message will be understood.’
With a shooing wave, Mac ushered him from the office, leaving him to his work.
~*~*~
HOURS later, Zac arrived home, loosening his tie and kicking his shoes off before promptly climbing into bed. He was so distracted that he didn’t even bother to pull the covers back and merely lay atop them. It didn’t take long for his cat to bound into the room and lay himself across his stomach. Letting go of a breath that he was sure he’d been holding for most of the day, Zac scratched behind the feline’s ears, absentmindedly.
'What do you think I should do, Dex? Do you think I should take it?'
The cat didn’t make a sound, but rather pushed his head against his owner’s hand for the sole purpose of getting his attention.
Zac hummed softly in satisfaction and offered a smile to his furry friend. 'Really? Good to know. I’m going to take that as a solid “maybe”. '
Business was something that Zac could handle. Though it could be intimate and interactive at times, often it was entirely detached from individuals. One could do business with strangers one day and never speak to them again for the rest of one’s life. In fact, he did so every day, and it was glorious.
Being a personal assistant, however… That was an entirely different ball game; one that he wasn’t entirely certain that he was prepared to play. Instead of calling associates of MacIntire’s, he would be calling his personal contacts. Instead of keeping a calendar of all of his conference calls and meetings, he would be in charge of remembering personal events like birthdays and anniversaries. He would get to know his boss better, perhaps, than anyone on the planet, and he couldn’t be sure whether that petrified or intrigued him.
By the end of the weekend, it was quite clear which of the two states of curiosity had prevailed. So, Monday morning, he lugged a large cardboard box onto the Underground, much to the annoyance of his fellow passengers.
~*~*~
IF there was one thing that Mac hated, more than anything else in the world, it was waiting. He’d granted his assistant the weekend to sort out his thoughts out of courtesy, but that was before he remembered how agonizingly slow time could pass when he waited for something. He’d spent the better part of two days tapping pens and obsessively checking his phone with the futile hope that time would speed up if only he wished hard enough. To his chagrin, such efforts were fruitless. Walking in on Monday morning, he saw Higgins clearing out his desk and loading the contents into a box. The sight was a relief beyond words. Not that he would ever tell anyone that, of course.
For perhaps the first time ever, Mac made a beeline for his assistant’s desk, rather than his own office. 'Good morning, Higgins,' he said with a cheerful tone and a smile.
Higgins had been so engrossed by the task of organizing his belongings that a sharp flinch rippled through his muscular system at the greeting. The man was startled to the point of dropping the stapler he’d been holding onto his foot. 'Coc y gath!' he yelped. He hopped backward on his uninjured foot, his back hitting the opposing wall.
Mac stifled a chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation, tilting his head, curiously. 'Are you quite alright?'
'That hurt like a--' the final word in the sentence seemed to die in the air as the two finally made eye contact. Instead, Higgins cleared his throat and returned to a normal standing position, despite clearly favoring his left foot. 'Yes, Sir. I’m fine.'
'Excellent. Now, shall we start again?' When his assistant blinked dumbly like he usually did when he didn’t understand a question, Mac decided to forge ahead, nonetheless. 'Good morning, Higgins,' he said once more in the same chipper tone, still wearing a smile that felt somewhat strange to him.
'G—Good morning, Sir,’ he said, uneasily.
'I see you’ve decided to accept my terribly gracious offer, then,’ he inquired, gesturing to the box on the floor next to the desk.
'Oh-- Yes! I have.' He suddenly bent to retrieve the stapler that had so recently assaulted his foot, placing in the box. 'Thank you, again, for the opportunity, Sir.'
Mac waved his hand dismissively. 'It’s a win-win. Don’t thank me.' A strange, reflective looked passed over Higgins’ face before merely nodding in reply. Apparently, if he couldn’t say “thank you”, he didn’t have anything to add, at all. 'We should be up in the new offices by the end of the day,' he remarked, attempting to break the awkward silence. 'And tomorrow you can start interviewing your potential assistants; I’ve already picked out the most viable candidates. How does that sound?'
'Surreal, Sir.' But the moment he spoke, he seemed to regret his words. 'I mean, great. That sounds great.'
'No, no.' Mac’s smile persisted and perhaps even widened at the other man’s candour. 'I like a man who’s honest. I can imagine that I’d feel much the same if I were in your position. Now, what’s say you get to work tidying up my office? Just for old time’s sake.'
'Yes, Sir. Of course,' he said, sighing so quietly that Mac almost missed it. 'Is there anything else you might need?'
'Not at the moment, no. Have at it,' Mac said and gestured to his office door before taking off down the hall, headed for a meeting he was just going to make, if he sprinted.
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