Personal Assistant (MXM - EDITING )

Chapter 7: Bathroom anxiety

Mr. Hampton's eyes widened, copying Seven's reaction. The table went silent, but the chatter from the other guests continued. Seven swallowed, not taking his eyes off the CEO sitting before him.

Apologize, Seven. Apologize, apologize, apologize.

"Mr. Hampton, I—"

"I think we should get back to business, Mr. Hampton, don't you think?" Nick interrupted, leaning into the table as the corner of his lips curved into a smile.

Seven looked at his hands, hugging each other. His heart was beating out of his chest, begging to run out of the restaurant that stunk of fish and coffee. Why did he wait for me to say something?

Mr. Hampton cleared his throat, turning to Mr. Anderson. "Are you not going to comment on your assistant's behavior?"

Nicolas laughed. "No, but we can talk about business."

Why is he laughing?

Mr. Hampton sighed, eyeing the assistant again, but the stare held a deep annoyance, almost like he was losing an auction because of Seven.

"Well," Mr. Hampton said, "what was the reason for inviting me out then?"

Nicolas held a cheeky grin. He eyed the shorter male next to him, seeing the aftermath of the confrontation. He loved putting his assistants on the spot, testing their knowledge, and messing with their egos. Most of his assistants held themselves high even though they made errors in their work and disrupted the company's policies, so, in return, Nick would mess with their confidence and humiliate them when deserved. As time passed and assistants quit, seeing different reactions became an enjoyable habit. However, Seven managed what others couldn't: keeping confidence when put on the spot.

It caught Nick off guard, but it was new. He didn't destroy Seven's ego and held himself high with his response even though he cowered at the end. Nick noticed it, too. He caught Seven about to apologize, but Nicolas didn't want that. Own up to your ego.

Again, Nicolas thought, I want to see it again.

"Go ahead and ask my assistant. I'm sure he knows why I invited you."

How unprofessional can you be? Seven frowned, turning his head to Mr. Anderson. Not only did Nick disappoint with his late commentary, but he also decided to put Seven on the spot again. Seven knew zero about Mr. Hampton, but the name Compskill was familiar. Nothing came to mind except he remembered the title appearing during the opening credits of a video game he played when he was younger.

Oh.

Seven looked to the CEO before him as his glaring, brown eyes pierced him in the chest. Then, he recalled the papers of information Mr. Anderson had offered him yesterday. It was information about the company's relationships and competition. He remembered reading 'Compskill' within the crowd of companies. "As a game company, GamerCave wants to receive seventy percent of the profit of your gaming computer."

The CEO's bushy eyebrows creased. "Seventy percent?" he scoffed. "That's an insane percentage. Are you sure your assistant knows what he's talking about?"

Mr. Anderson didn't reply. Instead, he sat there with his arms crossed as if his lips were sealed. Mr. Hampton shook his head, turning his attention to the assistant. "Did you read that somewhere? I'd like to see some sort of support for your reasoning, Serene."

"Mr. Hampton, I don't appreciate you referring to me as my first name—"

"Oh, please," he chuckled, "it's your second day working under GamerCave. Do you really think I'll respect you? Explain why you think I would ever accept a percentage that high. My company manufactures computers, boy. I will decline to give the corporation seventy percent of MY profit that MY technology receives."