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Leave it to Tom Holland to not get back to you until the morning of class. You checked your e-mail again and again while you walked to the Language Building. You sighed and rolled youe eyes at his rudeness.

Finally your phone buzzed and you noticed you received an e-mail from a secretary,

"Dear Ms. (y/l/n),

Mr. Holland's e-mails are forwarded here. I am Linda Roland, his secretary, and he would love to have a meeting with you to discuss your writing assessment tomorrow morning at 9 am if you are available. Please dress for an office setting. Sorry for the short notice. I'll see you tomorrow morning at this address.


And she attached his office address. You grinned and walked into class to tell your professor the person you had chosen.

"You know that he is notorious for keeping his life private?" She raised her eyebrows at you.

"Well, kind of, but I'm sure it'll be fine." You nodded and assured her, "I think this will really test me."

"I think so too. I'm surprised he even agreed. But either way, good luck Ms. (y/n). I can't wait to read your assignment." She replied and signed off on your project.

The next morning you woke up early to flat iron your hair. You pulled on a nice blouse and a skirt to spice it up, then added a pair of wedge heels to give yourself some height. You put your laptop in its bag and carried it with your purse to your car. You drove and listened to the random songs playing on the radio.

You walked up to his office floor and saw a red haired woman sitting behind a desk. "May I help you?" She said with a smile.

"I'm here to see Mr. Holland, I'm (y/n) (y/l/n) from UCLA." You explained.

"Ah, yes!" She nodded, "right this way, I'm Linda." She shook your hand. "I should warn you, though. Mr. Holland is a very kindhearted young man, but he's straightforward. And commanding." She led yoy to an office and knocked on the door.

"Come in." You heard a low voice say.

"Your 9 am is here." Linda said happily and opened the door wide to you.

"Thank you, Linda." He said with a soft nod and stood up. The boy was taller than he looked in pictures and his hair was quite longer too. A few brown curls fell on his forehead and he had a neatly clean shaven face. He looked you up and down and stuck out his hand, "Tom Holland, how can I help you?" He asked in his thick accent.

In a serious manner you nodded to him and smiled. "My name is (y/n) (y/l/n)." You sighed. Linda was right when she said he was quite commanding and intimidating. "I'm here to ask you about my UCLA senior Journalism assignment."

"A college project?" He raised his eyebrows and pulled a chair out for you to sit at. His office was decorated with mahogany wood and wit furniture. He had a globe sitting on a large conference table and a picture of him with what looked like his mom and dad at his graduation.

"Yes, sir, my final for me to graduate with a degree in journalism." You explained.

"First of all," he sighed. "You don't have to call me sir, or Mr. Holland. That is for my employees. I'm Tom." He told you. "And secondly, I'm a very busy man. Who told you you could interview me?"

"Your secretary... Linda." Your face began to fall. He looked like he had no idea what you had been talking about.

"Linda!" He called out and she was there almost too quickly.

It was as if she was listening to the two of you outside the open door when she popped her head in and managed out, "sir?"

"You told this (y/n) girl she could interview me?" He narrowed his eyes.

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