Episode 1

It was an ordinary morning, yet there was so much traffic. It seemed like the whole world had agreed to leave at the same time. I glanced at the clock, wishing time would stop and the traffic would disappear; today was my first day at work and, despite leaving the house on time, it seemed like it wasn't my lucky day.

I turned up the radio as my favorite song began playing, "R. Kelly - I Believe I Can Fly," hoping it would calm my nerves and lift my spirits. While belting out the tune as if I was showering, I realized people in the neighboring car were looking at me. It seems the inner performer in me had done it again. I rolled up the window so they couldn’t hear me and kept on singing.

After a while, the song started to depress me; I wished I had wings to have already arrived at work. It was a sobering thought to realize I'm just a regular human and that my grumpy boss would fire me if I didn’t get there on time. I banged my head on the steering wheel and inadvertently hit the horn; the person in the car in front rudely gestured out the window, and my eyes widened in shock when I realized it was an elderly lady; otherwise, I might've hurled an insult.

Eventually, I managed to take my exit and arrive at the job. I reached the agency three minutes before my start time. I greeted those who helped me during the interview and took the elevator; upon its doors opening, I faced my boss, who was standing by the entrance checking his watch.

"Good morning, or should I say good afternoon?" he said, looking stern, and I lowered my head.

"Good morning, Mr. Cooper. My apologies for being late, it won’t happen again."

"You're not that late, just about four seconds after the start time."

Four seconds? And this quirky man was counting that?

"Follow me, I'll show you to your workspace."

Jasper, my new boss, was serious and sour, known for treating everyone harshly at the agency. The first day I met him, I stumbled into him and he gave me a look worse than a stab wound. His modeling agency is number one in all of California. It’s a privilege or stroke of luck that they accepted me here with so little experience. He's very intelligent and well-known, always featured across the media. Physically, he's quite attractive; tall, pale, slim with an almost perfect profile and face, except when he's frowning. He has brown eyes, dark brown hair, and always styled to trend.

"This will be your desk, right in front of my office. Here's an intercom, through which I’ll summon you when needed. Also, it’s important that you respond promptly to my calls. I lack patience, do you understand?"

"Understood, Mr. Cooper."

"As my assistant, not an executive, you may call me Mr. Jasper."

"Yes, Mr. Jasper."

"The rules are basic; answer calls, schedule appointments, accompany me to all meetings, and always carry a notebook and pencil. Am I clear so far?"

"Yes, Mr. Jasper."

"My schedule is on your desk; you need to keep me apprised of all my commitments and note any new ones I’m informed of. One critical rule; my family occasionally visits during the week and you're not to let them into my office when I'm away. Everything else I'll brief you on as they arise. You signed the contract yesterday, so you should be aware of the basics, besides it's not your first assistant position. Have you understood all that, Ms. Nichole?"

"It's all clear, Mr. Jasper."

"What’s on my agenda now?" he glanced at me, and I hurried to check his schedule.

"You have a meeting in 30 minutes with Mrs. Keyla Peters at the Convention Center."

"Good. Get your things ready; you're accompanying me."

"That soon?"

"Consider that you will spend very little time in the office; I'm mostly in meetings or attending runway events, and you must be there for all of it."

"Perfect."

I gathered what I needed and stowed it in my bag. He handed me his keys and led the way to the elevator. In the parking lot, he showed me his car and I was astounded. The wealthy enjoy certain luxuries. It was a latest model car. What more could I expect? If I crashed a car like this, I couldn't afford to pay for it even if I sold my body. I opened the rear door, thinking he would get in, but he went to the driver's side. I couldn't figure out how to start the car, and he said nothing.

"Excuse me, Mr. Jasper. How do I start the vehicle?"

"You don't usually read instructions, do you, Ms. Nichole?"

"This car comes with them?" I asked, surprised.

Jasper turned his face and I heard him chuckling to himself. I wanted to say so many things, but he's my boss and I couldn't be disrespectful. I checked the driver's side but there was no place for the key.

"Take your time," he looked at his watch, and I felt the pressure mounting.

How could I not start this damned car? I examined the keys and realized there was a start button; pressing it, the engine roared to life. I was amazed. Such an extraordinary vehicle, especially for someone like me. Jasper cleared his throat and I looked at him.

"Now that you've discovered America, can we leave?"

This guy was exasperating.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jasper," I smiled through gritted teeth.

I should stick this key up his ass to see how hard he laughs then. Damn jerk! I drove us to the convention center and parked in the front, then followed him inside, but he was taking strides like a giraffe. As we walked in, I noticed models chatting in groups and bustling around, along with photographers and reporters. Upon recognizing Jasper, they converged on us. Damn, I had to somehow fend them off. I stepped in front of him and indicated for him to walk elsewhere, and he tried to keep pace with me.

They wouldn’t let us through, and despite my efforts to clear his path, going up against more than half a dozen reporters was a tough battle. Then I felt a gentle hand on mine, and turning, I saw it was Jasper. He gave the reporters a stern look and pulled me along with him. We waded through the crowd, finally able to shake them off.

"I am so sorry; I was supposed to be protecting you," I gasped, letting go of his hand.

"You are my assistant, not a bodyguard. Don’t pull such stunts again; you could have gotten lost in that crowd."

"What does that mean?"

He turned away again, obviously trying not to laugh, then walked on. Was this man still making fun of me? What kind of boss does that? I followed him until he stopped in front of a ramp where numerous models were gathered, and upon his arrival they descended to approach us.

"Mr. Jasper, what a surprise to have you here," they said, nudging me aside to encircle him.

"Sally tells me you’re not cooperating with your new coach. What’s the issue?" He spoke with authority, making them visibly uneasy.

"Give us a chance to explain, sir."

"I despise lack of commitment, and you know that."

"It's just that he’s moving too fast and we don't understand anything he’s doing or saying."

"My friend is a skilled coach; he's trained many famous models without any complaints like yours. I hope I won’t hear any more dissent or I’ll pull your agency from the upcoming event, and you'll have to find somewhere else. Is that understood?"

"We’re sorry, Mr. Jasper, it won’t happen again."

"I hope not," he demanded some space and stood beside me. "This is my new assistant, Nichole. She’ll be watching over you on certain days, so be nice to her."

"Yes, sir," they all looked at me like some odd creature, understandably since I was the only plus-size among them, out of place in that environment.

"Will you be evaluating us, Mr. Jasper?" the blonde with bright eyes inquired.

"Yes, line up," he directed.

They lined up side by side, and he began evaluating each one by touch, checking their figures. The man was a complete perv!

"You’ve improved but still need more, Norma. The rest are fine, keep up the exercises."

"Thank you, Mr. Jasper," they chorused, then returned to the ramp.

Jasper turned towards me, observing my expression.

"What's with the look?" he asked pointedly.

"It’s the only one I have," I blurted out instinctively without thinking.

He raised an eyebrow, examining me intently.

"I mean, I was quite taken aback just now," I tried to backpedal, fearing I'd be fired for mouthing off to my boss. What in the world was going on with me?

"And why would that shock you? Don’t tell me you’re expecting me to do the same to you?"

"What did you say?"

He turned away, a hand to his face, concealing amusement.

"Let’s go."

Was he mocking me yet again? What kind of person did he take me for?

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