James's Tuesday began just like his Monday, except today Victoria's coffee required a precise quarter teaspoon of cinnamon. The seemingly arbitrary change wasn't announced—he'd simply learned to check his email at 5:30 AM for her overnight "optimizations."
"James!" Victoria's voice sliced through the morning quiet. He grabbed his tablet and hurried into her office, where she sat framed perfectly by the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. The morning light caught her cheekbones in a way that almost seemed deliberate, as if she'd positioned herself specifically for the effect.
"Yes, Ms. Sharp?"
"The quarterly review presentation for this afternoon. Where is it?"
James frowned slightly. "I sent it to you last night at 8:15."
Victoria flicked her wrist dismissively, her slim gold watch catching the light. "That was the preliminary version. I need the final."
"You didn't request any changes."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I shouldn't have to spell out every little thing, James. I expect you to anticipate my needs."
"I'm not a mind reader," he said, then immediately regretted it.
Victoria leaned back in her chair, a predatory smile playing at her lips. "No? And here I thought that was your one marketable skill. God knows it isn't your stature."
The casual cruelty of the comment stung, but James kept his expression neutral. "What specific changes would you like me to make to the presentation?"
She sighed dramatically, as if his incompetence was physically painful for her to witness. "The slides need to be reorganized. Start with market positioning, then financials. And the color scheme is all wrong—it should complement the physical reports." She gestured to a stack of folders on her desk, bound in navy blue with silver embossing.
"I used our standard template."
"And now I'm telling you to deviate from it. Is that going to be a problem?"
James took a deep breath. "Not at all. I'll have it revised within the hour."
"Make it thirty minutes. The board moved the meeting up."
"They—what? When?"
Victoria was already looking at her computer screen, effectively dismissing him. "Apparently while you were sleeping, some of us were working. Thirty minutes, James."
He returned to his desk, muttering curses under his breath. The revision would normally take at least two hours. He'd have to cut corners, which Victoria would inevitably notice and criticize.
His phone buzzed with a text from Marcus in Creative.
"Meeting still on for 10? She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named looks extra murdery today."
James typed back: "Yes. And bring sacrificial offerings. She's at an 8."
Thirty grueling minutes later, James returned to Victoria's office with the revised presentation. She was on the phone, her back to the door as she gazed out at the city. From his position, he could see her reflection in the window—she was examining her own face as she spoke, adjusting a strand of hair, tilting her chin to catch the light.
"I don't care what your engineers say, David. If you can't meet our specifications, we'll find someone who can." She turned, noticing James. "I need to go. Fix it by Friday." She ended the call without waiting for a response.
"The presentation," James said, placing his tablet on her desk.
Victoria picked it up, scrolling through the slides with irritating slowness. "You used Palatino font."
"You prefer it for financial data."
"Not when it's paired with these graphics." She handed the tablet back to him. "Change it to Baskerville. And the third slide is unnecessary."
"The third slide contains the profit margin analysis you specifically requested last week."
Victoria's perfectly shaped eyebrows arched. "And now I'm specifically requesting its removal. The information is redundant."
James bit the inside of his cheek. "Anything else?"
"Yes. The Henderson deal is closing today. I need you to draft the announcement."
"I already did. It's in your email, sent at 6:30 this morning."
For a fraction of a second, Victoria looked surprised, but she quickly recovered. "It needs revisions. The tone is too casual." She stood, smoothing her charcoal pencil skirt. "And I need my blue Louboutins for the board meeting. The ones with the four-inch heels."
James knew exactly which shoes she meant—the ones that made her tower over him by a good two inches. "They're in your private closet. Second shelf, left side."
Victoria walked to the adjoining bathroom that contained her extensive wardrobe of backup clothing. "Wrong. I moved them yesterday."
"To where?"
"If I have to tell you, what's the point of having an assistant?" she called out as she disappeared into the closet.
James pinched the bridge of his nose, counting slowly backward from ten. When Victoria emerged, she'd refreshed her lipstick to a deeper red and was carrying the blue heels in question—from exactly where he'd said they were.
"I'll make those changes to the presentation right away," he said, refusing to comment on the shoes.
"Good. And James? After the board meeting, I need you to escort Richard Evans around the office. He's considering investing."
Richard Evans was the six-foot-four former college basketball player turned venture capitalist who'd been trying to schedule a meeting with Victoria for months.
"I thought you said he was, and I quote, 'an overgrown frat boy with more money than sense'?"
Victoria's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "His money spends just as well as anyone else's. And he's been quite persistent." She slipped on the blue shoes, instantly gaining her advantageous height. "Make sure he sees the new design space. He has a weakness for creative women."
"Shall I line them up for his inspection?" James asked dryly.
Victoria shot him a look. "Don't be crude, James. It doesn't suit you." She gathered her materials for the board meeting. "And wear something that doesn't make you look like you're going to a funeral. This is a tech company, not a bank."
James glanced down at his impeccably tailored charcoal suit. "This is Tom Ford."
"It's depressing. Change your tie at least."
With that, she swept out of the office, leaving behind a cloud of her signature perfume and James's simmering frustration.
He made the requested changes to the presentation in record time, changed his tie to a deep blue that he knew Victoria would approve of (though he'd never admit how much her approval mattered), and was waiting outside the boardroom when the meeting concluded an hour later.
Victoria emerged looking satisfied, which meant the board had bent to her will on whatever matter she'd been pushing. The other board members filed out looking slightly shell-shocked.
"Evans will be here at two," she said without preamble. "The announcement for the Henderson deal needs to go out before then. Did you fix it?"
"It's in your inbox awaiting final approval. Along with the Nakamura proposal you requested yesterday."
"I didn't request a Nakamura proposal."
James kept his voice level. "You said, and I quote, 'Draft something ambitious for Nakamura that will make that tall drink of water want to come back for seconds."
A slight flush colored Victoria's cheeks. "That was clearly a joke."
"Was it? Because I have the recording from the dictation app you insist I use."