He frowned as he noticed that his office was open and his computer was already booted up. Bruce settled immediately into his plush bed in the corner of the office. Jay noted that his daily papers were already laid out on his desk, and his morning schedule had been printed out. He stood, confused for a split second, before a knock on the door startled him.
“Mr. Michaelson?” the female voice inquired. Jay looked up in surprise and his breath caught in his throat upon seeing the absolutely stunning woman standing in his office door. His mouth was suddenly too dry and his palms started sweating a bit.
What the hell? Was he in middle school?
He couldn’t remember the last time he reacted this way to a woman. The first thing he noticed were her eyes - enormous dark brown orbs that somehow gave her a look of innocence while giving the impression she could see right through him.
She had the look of someone who probably got told that she had a resting bitch face a lot but it was simply because of those beautiful, intense eyes. Jay tried to subtly take in the rest of her, growing aware that he was taking a long time to speak. He couldn’t help it. He had been with his fair share of beautiful women but had never had this reaction to anybody.
She had golden brown skin that looked so soft and supple, as if she spent all her time at the spa, though he was certain this was just her natural look. She wore minimal makeup save for a bright red lipstick, which drew attention to her perfect lips. Her hair, chocolate brown with amber highlights, fell in tight curls around her face, cascading to the middle of her back. Her face was supremely angelic, all smooth chubby cheeks and bunny nose.
But her body, good lord her body. There was nothing angelic about it, Jay was certain. That body was made for sin. CAA had a strict business dress code though the women in the office could usually get away with a more casual approach as long as they were stylish. Because of this, Jay was fairly used to seeing young girls flouncing around the office braless, in tiny skirts and wholly impractical heels.
But this girl, this goddess, in front of him eschewed the skirt in favor of black cigarette pants, which clung to her shapely hips and thick thighs. Jay couldn’t tell but he was almost 100% positive she had a praiseworthy ass on her. He was desperate to check her out so he could confirm his theory.
She wore a simple black silk long-sleeved top with a V-neck that showed just the teensiest hint of cleavage. Her neck was adorned with several delicate gold necklaces, each of differing lengths. She finished her look with black suede pumps. Not too high, the kind that were sexy but definitely practical.
“Mr. Michaelson?” she repeated, shifting under his gaze. Jay snapped out of it, wondering how long he had been staring at her.
“It’s Jay,” he said, giving her a sheepish smile. She nodded as she stepped toward him, pushing a cup of coffee in his direction. Jay took the cup from her, surprise clear on his face.
“Hopefully that’s right,” she told him. “If not, I can run back and have them make a new one.” She smiled at him, clearly a little nervous.
Jay struggled to find his words. “Ah, thanks? I’m so sorry, who are you again?”
The girl blinked back her surprise. “Oh! Sorry, I thought you... no sorry. I’m Marty. Marty Alvarez?” She thrust out her hand to shake his but quickly withdrew it upon seeing his reaction. He nearly choked on his coffee (which was, admittedly, perfect).
“You’re Marty?”
“The one and only,” she said brightly, slight amusement playing on her face as Jay grew more flustered.
Jay finally sunk into his chair, sipping his coffee while he considered the girl before him. The dream girl had a name. And that name was... Marty?
For almost his entire career as an agent, Jay insisted upon hiring male assistants to work for him. He had a few reasons for this policy, and only some of those reasons made him seem like a complete dick. For the record, he wasn’t sexist, he just felt he didn’t always come across well to women who worked for him, and he felt he could be more blunt with male assistants without worrying about hurt feelings.
Another reason for his policy was that Jay was determined to not repeat the sins of his father and, in business, his father had committed a lot of sins.
The final and perhaps most legitimate reason for not hiring female assistants? Bruce.
See, Bruce, though he was a marshmallow of a dog, kind of hated most women. It stemmed from the fact that the breeder who had abused him was a woman. Over the years, with training and exposure, Jay had gotten Bruce to a place where he didn’t always cower under the table whenever a woman was around, but he was still very wary of them.
Which meant Jay never brought women home if he could help it (which was fine by him because he hadn’t met a woman he wanted to bring home in about a decade). Plus he hired male assistants since they would inevitably have to deal with Bruce, and Jay didn’t feel like stressing his dog or his assistant out. At the present moment, Bruce was walking slowly toward Marty, his body crouched low to the floor, the hair on his back raised — his typical defensive position when scared of someone.
“He won’t bite you. But he is scared of you. Sorry, he doesn’t trust women,” Jay told her.
Marty was looking at Bruce with a curious expression on her face. She seemed intrigued and excited by Bruce’s presence.
“Aw, I love dogs! I used to work full-time for a pet sitting company and still do weekend walks for a few clients,” she chirped, suddenly transforming from his sinfully sexy new assistant to an enthusiastic dog lover.
She knelt on the floor but made no move toward Bruce, allowing him to come to her on his own terms. “What’s his name?” she asked, the sweet earnestness in her eyes proving to be too much for Jay as he tried to stop his mind from thinking about all the other things she could do while kneeling on the floor in front of him. Christ, he had to look away.
“Bruce,” he grunted out, just barely able to hide the frustration in his voice.
Marty didn’t seem to notice as she was still focused on putting Bruce at ease. Bruce, for his part, seemed a lot more relaxed than he was a minute ago.
“Hi Bruce! You’re a sweet boy, aren’t you? Hmm? You a good boy, Bruce?”
Marty looked up at Jay with an apologetic smile before turning her attention back to Bruce. “Sorry, he’s pulling me in and I feel like if I get up now he won’t trust me again. Also, for the record I am available for any and all dog responsibilities, including but not limited to dog walking, dog sitting, hell I would even do grooming. I can administer oral medications, and I’m comfortable with special dietary needs.”
Marty had delivered this dog skills resume without looking up at Jay. She was still looking at Bruce and regarding him with a loving curiosity. Jay couldn’t help but smile at this weird, beautiful girl who was falling in love with his dog.
It appeared as though the feeling was mutual. Bruce stood up to his full height, his hackles lowered. Suddenly, Bruce was in Marty’s bubble, a surprised giggle escaping her lips once she realized Bruce had accepted her.
Jay watched in awe and appreciation as Bruce snuggled up to Marty and licked her face. He held his breath as he expected Marty to be one of those prissy girls who hated dogs but, much to his surprise, she merely moved her face so Bruce wouldn’t lick her on the mouth, giving him access to her cheek instead.
It was actually really fucking adorable, seeing this beautiful woman cuddling up to his best friend / son / life partner. Bruce quickly decided he could trust Marty, so naturally he sprawled out on his back, giving Marty the look that said ‘you know you want to rub my belly.’
And indeed, it appeared that Marty did want to rub Bruce’s belly.
Well shit. It looked like Bruce had solved that whole ‘reason for needing a male assistant’ thing. For the record, Jay wasn’t a total asshole about his hiring process. While he’d had a “guys only” policy for his assistants, he always hired a non-white guy to fill the role.
As a white guy himself, Jay recognized his position of privil
ege in the world, and hiring assistants of color was the small way that he tried to pay it forward. Even though, yes, they were all men. He was a work in progress.
Which is why, when it came time to find Ralph’s replacement, he instructed Ralph to send him a list of non-white male mailroom assistants. The list, to nobody’s surprise, was tiny. Depressingly so. In fact, at that point it comprised just two people. Jamal Tucker and Marty Alvarez. Based on their resumes, Jay had decided Marty would be the better fit.
What Jay had not expected, however, was that Marty was not a guy.
No, she definitely was not.
Chapter 4: Marty
Marty had not anticipated that her new boss would be put off because she was a girl. It was 2018, for crying out loud. This did nothing to diminish how hot she found him, unfortunately. In fact, he was even hotter in person than he was in the pictures.
She knew, from her internet stalking, that Jay was 37, a fact that didn’t mean much to her until she was standing in his presence and realized how much of a man he was. Marty spent most of her days surrounded by immature boys in their early 20s boys who didn’t even own belts or sport coats or a tailored suit.
And here was Jay, wearing a slate gray suit with a crisp white shirt, no tie. The shirt was open to show off his very hot collarbone—could a collarbone be hot? Cause his certainly was. His hair was longer than it had been in his photo, though the sides were shaved close in that kinda hip white guy way (like Macklemore circa 2014).
Marty could tell that he kept his body in pristine shape, and she wanted desperately for him to stand up again so she could take in the rest of him.
She was vaguely aware of his attitude shift when he realized she was his new assistant and not some flirty intern. But Marty definitely didn’t miss the way he had looked at her when she first arrived, taking her in and nearly making her panties melt off on sight, against her better sense.
Marty always felt that her curvy body was a double-edged sword. Most people saw her ample tits and Caribbean ass and assumed she was an easy lay. She hated it in high school, and tried her hardest to cover up so she could be taken seriously. Some time in college, she realized that she could be using her assets to her advantage. She was a horny co-ed after all.
Nowadays, Marty dressed for her shape and played up her figure and typically tried to own it. Still, she felt a little out of place at CAA surrounded by size 2 blondes with A cups and tiny Pilates-assisted butts.
Despite the knowledge that Jay probably had his fill of those size 2 models, Marty knew that the look he gave her meant he was 100% undressing her with his eyes. But ever since she introduced herself as his new assistant, he had been cold and quiet.
Luckily, she had his adorable dog Bruce to keep her company. Jay had warned that Bruce didn’t typically like women, so Marty was a little nervous. If she was being honest, it would have hurt her feelings more to be rejected by Bruce than it hurt to be rejected by Jay. Her obsession with dogs bordered on pathological, and the fact that her new boss had this adorable husky? A+ best job ever.
Marty reluctantly pulled herself away from Bruce and stood up, brushing lint and dog hair off her all-black outfit. Jay was still being incredibly standoffish and rude, so Marty simply sat down in one of the chairs across where he sat at his desk. She took a beat to smooth out her top and adjust her necklaces before looking up at him.
“What kind of name is Marty for a girl?” he asked.
Marty raised an eyebrow, biting back her sarcastic retort and instead replying, “It’s a nickname. You know, a name people call me instead of my given name?” Okay, so maybe she had let some sarcasm slip through. Thankfully, Jay didn’t call her on it.
“Which is?”
“Maritza.”
Jay frowned and repeated her name back to her. “Maritza? Why do you go by Marty?”
“Why do you go by Jay?” she snapped, challenging him.
He fixed his golden eyes on her with an intense stare before allowing a small smile.
“Touché,” he said, “touché.”
Marty grew a little frustrated at the way this was playing out.
“So, do you purposely go by Marty to confuse people about your gender?” he asked, fixing her with that intense stare again.
Her voice was sugar but the words out of her mouth were anything but. “Well Mr. Michaelson, the fact that this is such a curveball for you kind of proves that I’m right to continue to use my preferred name, lest I miss out on opportunities due to my unfortunate gender.”
Marty pressed her lips into a thin line, daring Jay to question her. “And furthermore, I go by Marty because it’s what I’ve always gone by, since I was 5 years old. It’s my name. Maritza is reserved for TSA and the IRS. To imply that I was trying to trick you is a bit unfair. Even if I would have been justified in doing so.”
“I see,” Jay replied, after a long pause.
“Plus,” she continued, “I like Back to the Future. Why wouldn’t I want to have something in common with Marty McFly?”
“All valid points...McFly.”
She couldn’t help it—she grinned at his nickname for her nickname. He sipped his coffee, staring at her some more. She refused to let him make her uncomfortable so she stared right back, challenging him.
They played this game of chicken, each of them waiting for the other to speak up, for what felt like ages but in reality was maybe two minutes. In that time, she surreptitiously checked him out, noting his perpetual tan and his light stubble.
His pictures had all been of him clean-shaven so she was surprised by the stubble. She wondered what it would feel like on the inside of her thighs. The thought made Marty clench her thighs together.
Jay shot her a look, his eyebrow quirked up, like he could read her mind. She shuddered at the thought before caving and breaking their silence.
He leaned forward in his seat as she began talking, which unnerved her a little and she hoped it didn’t show. “Look, if you’re going to send me back to the mailroom, I would love for you to do it now, because I don’t want to get entrenched in your projects and do all that work for nothing. It’s fine if you do want someone else, no hard feelings. I’m not going to lawyer up and sue for discrimination or anything. I know how this stuff works.”
She paused her speech, waiting to see if he would interject. When she realized he was letting her continue, she barreled on.
“If you do send me back to the mailroom, I just want you to know that I know what the reason was. That’s all.”
“Oh. Is that all?” Jay smirked at her before leaning back into his chair again, this time spinning casually in it like he was a child. Marty found herself charmed by the move, despite her annoyance at the situation. She, too, couldn’t resist the allure of a spinny chair.
Still, despite how cute he looked, Marty needed to let him know she wasn’t here for his bullshit. She loudly cleared her throat, which drew his attention back to her.
Chapter 5: Jay
Shoot, had she said something? Jay couldn’t concentrate. All he could do was focus on her gorgeous fucking mouth as she essentially told him what an asshole he was. If only she knew the half of it.
Jay knew he had to give her a chance. Not because she was absolutely beautiful. In fact, that went in the ‘cons’ column, as he was pretty sure it would be impossible for him to be around her without a perma-boner. He’d had one since she stepped into his office, and no thoughts of baseball or his grandmother’s underwear seemed to quell his desire.
Fuck. Jay knew his attraction to her couldn’t move beyond that. She was a kid, for fuck’s sake. Jay wondered how old she was. She obviously had to at least in her early 20s, so he knew at least he wasn’t completely depraved. He tried to remember her resume and if it listed a graduation year. He would have to check that out later on.
He then remembered another reason he was hesitant to have a female assistant.
“Can you handle yourself around men?”
Jay didn�
��t miss the mischievous look that crossed Marty’s face. “I haven’t gotten any complaints,” she replied, trying to keep a straight face.
Jay belly laughed at that, though he felt his dick strain even more against his pants. He wouldn’t mind seeing how she handled herself around him.
“What I mean is,” Jay continued, “if you’re going to work my desk you’ll be around a fuckton of baseball players. Some will be professional, some will ask you out, others will catcall you while you try to do your job. I will, of course, put a stop to it if I ever see it happening, but I can’t promise you it won’t happen.”
Marty ran her hand through her curls, lightly fluffing them up while Jay talked. He wondered what her hair smelled like. He had gotten faint whiffs of coconut and lemon since she sat down, and he wanted nothing more than to bury his nose in her hair and inhale until he memorized her scent. And then maybe wrap her hair around his hands and pull. He wondered if she’d like that. Jesus, he had to stop thinking like this.
“Like I said, Mr. Michaelson, I can handle myself. I appreciate you trying to warn me though,” Marty said. Jay nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Do you want to be a sports agent?” he asked.
Marty hesitated. Jay recognized her hesitation and wanted to reassure her. “It’s okay if you say no, you know. I won’t use it against you.”
Marty relaxed and gave him a little smile. “Thanks. Um, no, I don’t want to be a sports agent. I actually don’t want to be an agent at all but I figured this would be a good experience and I figured the position on your desk was temporary so at least I could learn a few things that could serve me on my next desk.”
Jay understood and was thankful for her honesty. “So, if not an agent, what’s your actual goal here? At CAA? Acting?”
Marty looked horrified, which elicited another laugh from Jay. “God no, I’m a writer. Specifically, a screenwriter. Or at least I want to be.”
“Oh wow, that’s surprising,” Jay said the words before he even thought about what he was saying. He noticed the way Marty’s eyes narrowed as she fought to hide her frown.
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