“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any offense by that. It’s just... you’re... ah crap. Don’t take this the wrong way but you just don’t look like a typical writer, and I mean that in a very non-creepy way. And I guess I unfairly stereotyped you by thinking that someone as beautiful as you are wouldn’t be a writer. Which is my fault. I know writers can be beautiful. Jesus, I’ll stop talking now.”
Back in middle school, Jay had an insane crush on this sweet girl named Julie, who was so achingly pretty and kind that Jay didn’t know what to do with himself.
Back then, he was already a star baseball player (as much of a star as a kid could be in the 8th grade), and he certainly wasn’t lacking attention from girls, but he was only interested in sweet, adorable Julie. At the time, he didn’t think she would ever give him the time of day. She rejected all of his advances (in a sweet way, of course) and didn’t seem interested in seeing him outside of the confines of school.
One day, a few months into his one-sided courtship of Julie, he heard a rumor that she was dating Zac, one of his teammates on the baseball team. Jay nearly died when he heard the news. He then realized he had never fully told Julie how he felt. He tiptoed around her, asking her to hang out with him but not really putting effort into anything.
He decided he wasn’t going to let her pass him up without giving it everything he had. So, he formulated a plan. First, he agonized over a mixtape for her, choosing the best order of songs to convey his feelings. Then, he used most of the money he had saved up mowing lawns to buy her flowers — a bouquet of daisies — that he had delivered to her homeroom with the mixtape attached and a sappy note.
Later, Julie approached him near their lockers, a wide grin on her face. Even now, Jay could remember how sweaty his palms were, and how he watched her walk down the hall toward him with Zac at her side. He had been torn on whether to run to her or punch his friend in the dick. Luckily, Julie waved Zac away before Jay did anything crazy.
And then, she turned and locked eyes with him, her mouth turning up in slow motion as she smiled at him. She thanked him for her mixtape and her flowers, and then she gently touched his arm in a show of appreciation. There was nothing remotely sexual about it.
But, because this was 8th grade and it was the first time Julie had shown any interest in him, young Jay nearly had a heart attack right there next to their lockers. For the rest of his life, he would remember how embarrassing his reaction to that single touch had been. He had staggered back, his hand pressed over where she’d touched him, and said the words “you touched me!” out loud.
Yeah, that was 8th grade Jay.
Julie from 8th grade was the last girl Jay had lost his chill over. She was also the last girl he’d ever really had to work for (for the record, she wasn’t dating his friend Zac, she was just tutoring him because she was nice).
He dated Julie for a few years until things got too busy with baseball. Then, after that, he had enough jersey chasers always around so he didn’t have to pursue anyone. And he was just fine with it.
Marty was the first girl in nearly two decades to reduce him to a goddamn flustered, yammering mess. And Jay hated it. He felt unsettled by her very existence.
After Jay’s rambling confession that he found her beautiful, a slight blush crept into Marty’s cheeks, but she didn’t say anything for a while, which made him feel even worse. Finally, she let out a breath.
“So, does that mean you’re not sending me back?” she asked. “To the mailroom?”
Jay knew in his gut that he couldn’t do that to her. She deserved a chance to prove herself. He selfishly also wanted to spend more time with her, though he would deny it to the death.
“No, McFly, you’re not going back to the mailroom. Not yet, anyway.” His gaze turned serious. “As long as you don’t mess up too much.”
Marty looked surprised for a split second before she smiled the first real smile that Jay had seen from her. Her teeth were perfect, straight and white, and she had two adorable dimples that appeared when she smiled. Jay was hooked. He couldn’t help himself.
“You have dimples,” he remarked, noting the strange reverence in his voice. What the fuck was his problem? He tried to compose himself. Lots of people had dimples, idiot. Probably some serial killers had dimples, even.
“Um yeah, I suppose I do,” Marty said, shooting Jay a curious look as she got up from her chair. “I should get back to the desk. Ralph left me pretty detailed instructions but I am sure I’ll mess something up. Just let me know, okay? Don’t take it easy on me.”
Jay nodded and Marty left his office. He finally got to watch her walk away.
Sweet Peter, Paul and Mary, it was a beautiful sight. Jay, it should be noted, was an ass man. He thoroughly enjoyed a great set of breasts, but he had almost proposed marriage on the strength of an ass alone.
Unfortunately, the girls in LA didn’t have as much, er, junk in the trunk as Jay preferred. He made do with the hand he was dealt.
But Marty.
Her ass.
Was.
Glorious.
Though it was big, her ass was proportionate to the rest of her and to her thighs specifically, so he knew it wasn’t fake. Not that Marty seemed like the kind of girl who would have a fake butt, but you never knew in LA. Jay preferred a small butt over a fake one, that was one thing he was sure about.
Her ass was like Beyoncé circa now and J.Lo circa 1999—two asses with which Jay was supremely familiar. He briefly considered calling her back into his office just so he could see her exit again. He mustered the willpower to not do that, knowing that she would inevitably be back in his office at some point.
All he wanted was to just... look at it. He didn’t need to touch it. He was pretty sure he could get off just watching her walk for ten minutes. Fuck, of course the one time he gets a female assistant, she happens to be the hottest woman he’d seen in ages, possibly ever. Couldn’t she have some glaring obvious flaw or something? This would be torture.
Maybe she would actually be terrible at the job and Jay wouldn’t have to deal with her for too long. He could only hope.
Chapter 6: Jay
Of course Marty was amazing at her job. Of course. Jay couldn’t catch a damn break.
It had been a week since she took over his desk, and he had to admit that his life was running more smoothly than it had been even under Ralph’s supervision. How the fuck was she doing Ralph’s job better than he did? Jay wanted to be annoyed by this, but truthfully he was pretty pleased with her initiative and the way she jumped right into being his assistant, annoying tasks and all.
So far they had only hit one minor snag, which was when Marty patched Jay’s father through to his phone. Jay had been furious and stomped out to Marty’s desk once he was able to extract himself from his father’s conversational grip. Marty had looked up at him, her eyes wide, a slight look of panic on her face.
Jay was pretty sure there had been steam coming out of his ears.
He leaned over her desk and jabbed his finger down, emphasizing each word. “Do not. EVER. for ANY reason. Transfer that man to my phone. Do you understand? I don’t care what he says to you. I don’t care if he tells you he’s dying, or my mother is terminally ill, or grandma is in the hospital — it doesn’t matter. He will say anything, so it’s your job to make sure he doesn’t get through to me, okay? I don’t care what you tell him. Just lie, or tell him the truth, it doesn’t matter. Tell me you understand.”
In the moment, Jay knew he was being irrational. Of course he hadn’t thought to warn Marty that his dad might call, since Don Michaelson had only recently gotten out of prison and decided to try reconnecting with his son. It wasn’t that Jay hated his father, but rather he thought he was a terrible person and wanted nothing to do with him. Okay, so he may have hated him a bit. Or a lot.
Jay had grown up in Evanston, Illinois, where Don Michaelson had built a real estate mini-empire and amassed a pretty sizable fortune. A fortune that he w
as forced to cut into several times, on account of his various sexual harassment lawsuits and settlements.
Most recently, he had actually been convicted of criminal sexual assault after engaging in various sexual acts with one of his summer interns. The intern had been 17 at the time, so Don Michaelson figured he was in the clear, as he knew the age of consent in Illinois was 17. The fact that he knew this and routinely had relations with girls of that age was disgusting on its own, but not technically illegal, despite the fact that he was in his 60s.
Unfortunately, what Don hadn’t counted on was that the girl’s parents would 1) find out what was happening because they monitored their daughter’s texts and 2) press charges against Don which lead to 3) him being convicted under an exception in the Illinois criminal sexual assault code that specifies that the age of consent is raised from 17 to 18 if the perpetrator has any position of trust, authority, or supervision in relation to the victim, and the victim was between the ages of 13 and 18. A position that Don clearly held as he was the CEO of the company she interned for.
Despite all of Don’s money and power, his repeated sexual harassment lawsuits meant that the judge was fed up with his bullshit and sentenced him to a year in prison, of which Don only served four months.
He had gotten out within the past month and so far, Jay had successfully ignored his calls and emails. He hadn’t counted on Don trying to contact him at work, and he had been so distracted between Marty and... thinking about Marty and...looking at Marty (okay, so she was his only distraction), that he had completely forgotten to warn her.
Marty wore a look of confusion as Jay prattled on about how she should never ever be accommodating to Don Michaelson. He knew he should maybe tell her why he was so adamant about it, but he didn’t feel like getting into the whole sordid drama of his family. Marty quickly nodded and spoke up, “I’m so sorry Mr. Michaelson, it won’t happen again.”
Jay had softened at her use of his last name, which she hadn’t done since her first day, when he asked her to call him Jay. He composed himself and stepped back from her desk.
“Thank you. I’m sorry I yelled,” he said. Marty shrugged and brushed it off.
Despite this, she gave him a wide berth for the next day or so until he called her into his office and reassured her that he wasn’t mad at her and she needed to go back to treating him like normal because she was starting to freak him out.
This earned him a smile from Marty, one of the genuine ones that showed her dimples, the kind that would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn’t already been sitting down.
Despite the fact that Marty was a great assistant, Jay was fed up. Not with her work, of course. But rather the fact that her sudden presence in his department meant so much foot traffic, as all the Neanderthal dudes in the sports division walked by her desk countless times a day, just wanting to get a glimpse of his hot assistant. Word traveled incredibly fast. Pretty soon, there were guys from every corner of the agency making detours through the sports offices.
Which is why he was not surprised to find his best friend Richie perched on the edge of Marty’s desk one day when he returned from a lunch meeting.
Richie was a Motion Picture Lit agent, representing some big-name screenwriters. His office wasn’t even on this floor. He and Jay had both started in the mailroom together years ago and rose up through the ranks at the same time. Jay loved him like a brother, but in this moment he wanted Richie to go away forever and quit looking at Marty like she was his next meal.
Richie was coming fresh off a terrible divorce, and Jay knew he was itching to play the field now that the ink was dry on the divorce papers.
Objectively speaking, Richie was a handsome dude, all tall and dark and brooding. Girls swooned over him on a routine basis. Jay was pleased to glance over at Marty and see her decidedly NOT swooning. Thank god.
Marty brightened when she caught Jay’s eye, rewarding him with that smile that made his stomach and heart do a little flippy thing that he was unfamiliar with. Indigestion, maybe?
Richie hopped off the desk, clapping his hand on Jay’s back.
“What up, GB?” Richie asked with an easy smile.
Jay cringed at Richie’s use of his nickname. Back when they were first starting out, Richie and the other guys started referring to Jay as the ‘golden boy,’ mostly due to his popularity with women.
Somewhere along the way, golden boy became “GB” or “Jeebs” and now, over ten years after the nickname started, it was completely devoid of its original meaning. But still, Jay didn’t want to explain that to Marty. He wasn’t sure why. She didn’t seem like the type who would judge someone for being promiscuous. Either way, he didn’t feel like getting into it.
Jay needed to play this interaction cool or else he’d risk alerting Richie to the fact that he was crushing on Marty, and he knew there was no way his friend would let him live this down.
“Sup, Rich? We meeting today?”
Richie shook his head, grinning. “Nah, just wanted to run something by you. Your lovely assistant told me you’d be back soon, so I decided to keep her company.” Richie winked at Marty, who gave him a shy smile in return.
Jay made eye contact with Marty, who shrugged but didn’t say anything. If she was at all charmed by Richie and his flirting, she didn’t outwardly show it. Still, he was painfully aware of the twinkle in Richie’s eye whenever he looked at Marty, as well as the raised eyebrow whenever he looked at Jay.
He couldn’t blame people from being drawn to her. Lord knows he had tried everything he possibly could to tamp down his attraction. But there was just something about her... cliché, yeah yeah. But it was true. She was conventionally beautiful, sure, but it was more. It was in the way she only spoke when she really had something to say, not bothering to fill silences with meaningless words just because she was nervous.
And the way her dark eyes somehow took up most of her face like she was a fucking anime character. Those eyes that conveyed a sense of innocence but promised a mischievous, naughty side. Maybe Jay was projecting, but he didn’t think so. He wished he wasn’t so perceptive when it came to her but somehow he couldn’t stop noticing her even if his life depended on it.
Jay settled into his desk chair while Richie followed him, with the door to his office closed off from beautiful, perfect Marty and her beautiful, perfect, dumb self. Okay no, she wasn’t dumb. Jay was dumb for keeping her on his mind. As if sensing Jay’s roaming thoughts, Richie shot him a look and sat back in his chair expectantly.
“So,” Richie said, waiting for Jay to start talking.
“So,” Jay repeated, annoyed by his friend for reasons he wasn’t quite aware of. “You’re the one in my office, bro, what’s up?”
Richie shrugged and adopted a faux-casual air. “Not much, just hadn’t seen you in a while, figured I’d stop by and say hi.”
“Bullshit,” Jay challenged, eliciting a shit-eating grin from Richie.
Richie held his hands up in mock-surrender. “Alright, you got me. I wanted to come meet the cutie who has the boys all in a tizzy. And you too, by the looks of it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jay lied, hoping his expression was calm and neutral.
“Oh, now who’s bullshitting?” Richie smirked as Jay’s jaw tightened.
“She works for me, man. You know more than anyone that I would never try anything with her.”
“Dude, it’s not the same at all.”
“It’s exactly the same,” Jay countered.
“For starters, you’re not an asshole. Also, there’s a big difference between this and your dad’s bullshit.”
Jay waited for Richie to continue but he looked up at the bastard and realized he was waiting for Jay’s reaction.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What is it, you dick?”
“For starters, there’s that little detail about her being a legal adult for fuck’s sake. Plus, the difference is how she feels. And, from where I’m sitting, I’d
say she feels pretty good about you.”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about?” Jay couldn’t hide the slightly desperate tone of his voice. He hated Richie for messing with him and hated himself for falling for it.
“She looks at you like you hung the moon,” Richie said, finally throwing Jay a bone. “When I mentioned you and I worked in the mailroom together, her face lit up and she asked for stories about what you were like back then. I told her I’d bring her some pictures.”
“Don’t you dare,” Jay croaked, his voice all of a sudden hoarse and tight. “Is that... are you fucking with me? Because I swear to god Richie, I will murder you.”
“Relax man, I’m not fucking with you right now. I was fucking with you by flirting with your hot assistant but I’m not currently fucking with you by telling you that I think your hot assistant wants in your pants the same way you want in hers.”
“Marty,” Jay snapped, “her name is Marty. Not ‘hot assistant.’”
“You can’t deny she’s hot though,” Richie pointed out, intending to be helpful.
Jay had a lot of thinking to do. He felt like his heart was in a shaker bottle. Is this what people in love had to deal with all the time? Their damn hearts getting jostled at random times?
Wait. Was he falling in love with Marty? No. That couldn’t be right. He barely knew her. That was insane. Right... ?
Jay was so in his head that he forgot Richie was still in his office until he spoke up.
“Oh fuck man, you’re really gone over her, aren’t you? I thought you just wanted to fuck her but... nah, that look on your face. You are in trouble.”
When Jay didn’t deny his claim, Richie sat back in his chair as if resting his case.
“In that case, you need my advice even more so here it is: stop being an idiot. You’re not your dad. Yes, she’s young and you’re an old motherfucker but your dick still works so forget about that. Yes she works for you but she won’t work for you forever and do you really want to let the love of your life go because of some stupid arbitrary boundary? And,” he continued, holding a hand up to stop Jay from speaking, “before you say some stupid shit about how you’re not falling in love with her, may I remind you that I’ve known you for a decade and seen you date tons of girls. And I’ve never ever seen you with that look on your face when talking about any one of them. Not a single one. And bro, let me tell you, I know that fucking look.”
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