Summary: You were expecting things to become calm after landing the position as Lewis Hamilton's PA, as calm as your stressful job could be. Your relationship with your boss, though, makes your life become anything but calm.
Nervous, that was how you felt. Standing on the front steps of Lewis Hamilton's house was you, your bag nervously pulled close to your side as you mustered the courage to knock, to let him know you were finally ready to work as his personal assistant.
How you landed the job was still unknown to you: you were inexperienced, and everyone could tell by the way you were nervously standing in front of his front door. Still searching for the courage inside you, you breathed out a sigh. You needed to get your shit together.
Lewis Hamilton wasn't intimidating. Right?
After breathing in a large amount of air and pushing it out of your lungs quickly, you let your knuckles hit the wood of his door, your heart hammering against your rib cage. You waited, for so long you almost thought you had missed him due to his early morning run. When the door opened, though, you were met with a composed-looking Formula 1 driver.
You had seen him only through the screen of your laptop, but you could say that he looked way better in real life. Trying not to get too lost in his dark eyes, you greeted him softly, a nervous smile on your features.
"Y/N! Great to finally meet you in person!" He spoke, his accent thicker than you could remember, as he looked at you, a professional smile on his lips. "Come in, I got a few minutes before I have to leave for practice,"
"Thank you, Mr. Hamilton," was all you were able to mutter, getting rid of your coat and holding it in your arms as you looked around the rather large mansion. He gave you a small tour, and you found yourself mesmerized by everything he had shown you, from the high ceilings to the large windows that viewed London.
The view was truly breathtaking.
"I left a list of things to do on the kitchen counter," he said when you found yourselves back in the main hall. "You'll find everything you might need in that paper,"
"Okay, sir," you smiled, finally at ease. Rummaging through your purse, you grabbed the stack of papers you had printed out for the occasion, carefully handing it to him. "You asked for my curriculum,"
"Right," he nodded his head, scanning through the words quickly. "I'll take a look at it after training,"
You smiled his way, nodding your head before he could leave the room to grab his bag, leaving you on your own in the large hall. You hesitantly let yourself wander inside the kitchen, where the paper he had talked about was sitting neatly on the island.
"I'm heading out," he called from the hallway. "My number is on that paper, if you need help with anything,"
"Thank you, Mr. Hamilton,"
"Oh, and make yourself at home, Y/N,"
-
"What are you even reading, man?" George sighed as he dropped his bag on the bench, looking at an already-showered Lewis slumped over a bunch of papers.
"My PA's curriculum," Lewis mumbled, lower lip tugged between his lips.
The teammate snatched the papers from his hands, scanning through the words with a smirk on his face. "Originally from Europe, fresh out of Uni, worked for a company for a couple of months, thirteen years younger than you," he nodded his head. "And she's even hot,"
"It's strictly professional," Lewis huffed, pushing his water bottle in his bag as he turned around to grab some clothes, his eyes finding your picture attached to the files as he did so.
