The Assistant

Indoor Picnic

It's a full week later, and I'm sitting at my desk, typing away on my laptop.

There's a knock on my door and I look up.

"Its open," I remark, going back to typing.

"Miss Hana," I smile up at the blonde boy from Development as he shyly walks into the room.

He has multiple folders in his hands as he walks closer to my desk.

"What do you need?" I ask, closing the laptop.

"We finished redesigning the game, and we have the rough sketches and final concept if you want to take a look," He says, handing me the folders.

"Of course I do!" I smile as I look at the first two characters, a teenage boy and girl.

"Those are the characters that fall in love," He informs me.

I keep looking at the sketches, and something about them seems oddly familiar.

"Do I know these people?" I ask him

He nods. "We didn't completely want to start from scratch," He begins. "So we based them off of people we knew well. Such as you and Mr. Drake."

"That's me?" I point to the sketch. "I look good!"

I was styled in clothes fit for a zombie apocalypse: denim jackets, leather, boots, ripped jeans, you name it. Drake's design was the same way, except he has a black Labrador standing at his feet.

He looks handsome, even in sketch form. Woah, wait. What am I thinking?

"Those look great!" I comment, closing the folder after looking through the sketches. "I guess I owe you guys, huh? The bar down the street is open all night for you guys whenever you're ready. I already booked the reservation."

"Thank you, Miss Hana," He replies as he exits the door, waving at me as he leaves.

I have to cook now. Great.

I inform everyone in the office that our picnic will be tomorrow, and that since it's getting colder outside, we'll just eat here in the office building.

I think everyone knows what they want to cook, and I decide on making some mini sandwiches.

I look at different recipes on the internet, and my door opening makes me look up.

Drake walks in, an unusual look on his face.

"Are you going to be busy tonight?" He suddenly asks, and I look up from the recipes.

"Other than making the sandwiches, yes," I answer. "Why?"

"Ineedhelpcooking," He blurts out and I stare at him.

"What? Why did you talk so fast for? Slow down," I order him.

"I need help cooking," He says slower this time and I stare at him again.

"Do you not know how to cook?" I ask. "Did your parents not teach you or anything?"

He has an unreadable look on his face. "No, they didn't," He stares at me. "That's why I need your help."

"What are you making?" I ask.

He thinks for a second. "What about cookies? Wouldn't that be easy?"

I nod. "That should be fine," I answer. "I'll meet you at your place tonight and we'll cook them there. Just get these ingredients for me."

I jot down several ingredients on a piece of paper for him.

"I'll see you later," I inform him as he exits the room, looking at the paper.