James stared at his inbox, the bold subject line "URGENT: Personal Request" sitting atop his otherwise meticulously organized email. It had arrived at 6:47 AM, a full hour and thirteen minutes before Victoria was due in the office. He'd been at his desk since six, determined to finalize the prep for the Anderson Group presentation before she could find something wrong with it.
The email's timing was telling. Victoria sent personal requests early, as if the dawn would somehow mask the inappropriateness of asking her executive assistant to handle matters that had nothing to do with Sharp Innovations. As if the hour would obscure the fact that "executive assistant" and "personal errand boy" were two entirely different job descriptions.
James opened it with a resigned sigh.
James,
Need you to handle two personal matters:
1. Pick up my dry cleaning from Luxe Cleaners on 8th. Three dresses, two blazers. They know which ones.
2. My first cousin's birthday is tomorrow. I need a gift. He's turning eight and likes dinosaurs and space. Something educational but not boring. Price point $100-150. Gift wrapped, obviously.
Will need both items by end of day.
- VS
No "please." No acknowledgment that these tasks went well beyond his job description. Just Victoria's typical expectation that James would rearrange his day to accommodate her personal life—a life she otherwise kept entirely separate from work.
He checked the calendar. The day was packed: the Anderson Group presentation needed final revisions, there was the monthly budget meeting at eleven, and the legal team needed input on the new vendor contracts by three. Somehow, he'd now need to squeeze in a trip to the dry cleaner and toy shopping for a child he knew nothing about.
James rubbed his eyes and took a long sip of now-lukewarm coffee. He could push back. Should push back, really. Especially after last night's dinner, when Victoria had implied he had a future at Sharp Innovations beyond being her assistant. If that were true, wouldn't she start treating him more like an executive-in-training and less like a personal butler?
But then again, Chad Winters's offer was still ringing in his ears. He'd placed the business card in his wallet, where it seemed to burn a hole through the leather. A VP position. A seat at the table rather than standing behind it, fetching metaphorical coffee.
Maybe he should take it. Maybe he was a fool for even hesitating.
As if summoned by his wavering loyalty, his phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number:
James, it's Chad Winters. Just checking if you've had a chance to consider my offer. No pressure, but I'd love to grab coffee and discuss specifics when you're ready.
James stared at the message, trying to decide how to respond, when the elevator dinged. He quickly locked his phone as Victoria emerged, today in a sharp charcoal suit with a silk blouse the exact shade of a fresh bruise. Her expression was unreadable as always, but there was a tightness around her eyes that suggested she hadn't slept well.
"Morning," she said briskly, not breaking stride as she passed his desk. "Is the Anderson presentation ready?"
James stood, following her into her office with his tablet. "Nearly. I've incorporated the changes we discussed at dinner, but I think the market positioning section needs—"
"Fine. Send it to me when it's done." She settled behind her desk, already scanning through emails on her laptop. "Did you get my message about the errands?"
The abrupt topic change was typical—Victoria rarely acknowledged transitions between professional and personal requests. "Yes. I'll handle it."
She glanced up, seeming to really look at him for the first time that morning. "Problem?"
It was an opening, however slight. He could say something now. Could point out that sending him shopping for her nephew wasn't an appropriate use of company time or his position.
Instead, he said, "No problem. I just need some additional information about your cousin to find a suitable gift."
Something flickered across Victoria's face—recognition, perhaps, that he was accommodating her unreasonable request without complaint. Again. "His name is Ethan. He's academically gifted but has trouble connecting with other children. Dinosaurs are his special interest—particularly the Cretaceous period."
The specificity surprised James. He'd half-expected Victoria to shrug and suggest he "figure it out." The fact that she knew these details about her young cousin hinted at a relationship he hadn't imagined she maintained.
"I'll find something appropriate," he assured her.
Victoria nodded, already returning her attention to her screen. "The budget meeting is at eleven. I need the Q2 projections revised beforehand."
"They're on your desk. The blue folder."
She reached for it without looking up. "And Winters sent a preliminary proposal for the Anderson partnership. I want your thoughts on it before I respond."
"I'll review it immediately."
"Good." She waved a dismissive hand, the signal that he was to leave her office.
James returned to his desk and checked the time. If he worked straight through the morning, he could review Winters's proposal, finalize the Anderson presentation, and maybe squeeze in a trip to the dry cleaner before the budget meeting. The gift shopping would have to wait until lunch.
He pulled up Winters's proposal and began reading, making notes on potential pitfalls and hidden advantages. The work was engaging—exactly the kind of strategic analysis he'd hoped to be doing when he joined Sharp Innovations. It was just unfortunate that it came sandwiched between dry cleaning runs and toy shopping.
His phone buzzed again with another text from Winters:
How about lunch in two days time? My treat. No agenda beyond getting to know you better.
James hesitated, then typed back:
Thanks for the offer. I'll check my schedule and get back to you.
A non-committal response, but not a rejection. He wasn't ready to close that door yet, especially not when Victoria was reminding him so clearly of his actual place in her world.
The morning passed in a blur of spreadsheets and presentation decks. James managed to slip out to the dry cleaner just before the budget meeting, returning with Victoria's garments carefully draped over his arm. She acknowledged the delivery with a distracted nod, her attention focused on demolishing the CFO's conservative growth projections.
During lunch, James found himself in an upscale toy store, feeling oddly out of place among parents and grandparents shopping for children they actually knew. He wandered the aisles until he found the dinosaur section, overwhelmed by the options. Plastic figurines seemed too juvenile, plush toys too childish for a "gifted" eight-year-old.
Finally, he spotted it: a museum-quality 3D dinosaur excavation kit, complete with a virtual reality component that would let Ethan explore prehistoric landscapes once he'd assembled the skeleton. Educational but not boring. Perfect.
As the clerk gift-wrapped the package in elegant blue paper with silver stars, James found himself wondering about Victoria's relationship with her young cousin. She never mentioned family. Never took personal days for birthdays or holidays. Her emergency contact was her lawyer, not a relative.
Yet she knew her cousin's special interest was specifically Cretaceous-period dinosaurs. That detail tugged at James's curiosity like a loose thread.
Back at the office, he placed the wrapped gift on Victoria's desk while she was in a meeting. She returned forty minutes later, pausing when she saw the package.