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Things changed in the workplace.

Crissle Sinclair sat at her desk, a bored look on her face as she scanned the thirteenth floor of the Malik building. Her fellow coworkers were doing just that, working while she sat in her little cubicle with nothing to do.

Lately, Zayn had barely spoken to Crissle since she had been back working. He didn't look her in the eye and basically left notes on her workspace on what she had to do today. The workload, however, she barely had any now. All he ever asked was for papers to be printed and meetings to be rescheduled.

She thought she would like the peace, but it was actually quite disturbing.

It was...awkward when they made eye contact and he barely came out of his office. She sat at her desk or occasionally bothered Andrea on the other side of the office. She didn't like how quiet he was.

Crissle really wanted to talk to him and clear the air. She didn't care about the...altercation, this was still a business, and they needed to be professional about this.

She huffed, rubbing her bare arms before getting up. She knocked on his door and heard the grunt he always did. The door opened, and Zayn Malik was sitting at his desk, typing away at his laptop.

"Um," she whispered, all traces of confidence turning to dust as soon as she closed the door.

Zayn didn't pay much attention, he paused for a second, waiting for her to continue.

"We need to talk."

He started typing again.

"Z--Mr. Malik," she stuttered, sitting in the chair across from him. The only thing between the two was the large desk. "I seriously need to speak to you so if I could just have your undivided atten--"

"I'm listening."

She sighed, glad to finally hear him speaking to her. "I just think that...after what happened, we've kinda fell off. Well -- like -- this is a business and I think we should keep it professional because I don't think I can work somewhere where the boss won't even look me in the eye when I speak. And I'm sorr--"

"Why the fuck would you apologize to me for something I did?" he asked, ceasing his fingers and staring at the computer in disgust.

"I--"

"I've done nothing but hurt you this whole time you've been here. What the fuck did you do to apologize?"

"Um--"

"And you think you can't work here?" he continued, his eyes wandering over her, "fuck, I would've quit on the first day. No one can handle me, no one has stood up to me before. Except you. Now, why is that?"

"Because," she huffed, tired of him interrupting her, "I'm not the type to take shit from anybody, no matter how annoying and disrespectful and powerful they may be."

He was quiet, watching her in slight awe. "What's your deal, Ms. Sinclair?"

"What?" she was confused by his question.

His lips twitched into a smile and he leaned back in his chair, twiddling a pen between his fingertips. "You're very...interesting. Surprised you didn't quit after all this. So, what do you want out of this job?"

"Experience," she stated simply.

"Experience?" he deadpanned, chuckling to himself, "and you think you have enough?"

"Not at all."

"Why?"

"Because all I do is appoint meetings and print out stupid papers you don't want to read."

"Okay," he looked up at the ceiling and smiled an actual smile, "Ms. Sinclair?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Cancel my meetings for today--"

"See, this is the shit I'm talking about--"

"And make new ones," he continued without so much as a look in her way, "you want experience, I'll give it to you. Most assistants didn't last the two week mark so I gave them dumb shit an intern could do. And they still couldn't do that. So," he sat up and looked at her.

Crissle titled her head. "So what?"

"You'll become my right hand woman," he answered with a lick of his bottom lip.

"That's what I signed up for, right?"

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"Yeah, shit, what else am I supposed to tell you?" he asked with a frown.

"You're supposed to be professional and say some big words to get me interested."

"Fuck that," he chuckled deeply, shutting his laptop closed, "you already have the job, what the fuck else do you need?"

"You could not swear at me," she pointed out with a light laugh.

"That's going too far."

She laughed. "Thanks, boss."

"Anytime, assistant."

→

"So, y'all talked?"

"Yeah, we're good now."

Andrea smiled, stirring her iced tea callously in her glass, some of the liquid spilling onto the table. "Y'all are good now? Hm..."

"Andrea..." Crissle already knew what was up, "he doesn't like me."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it," she bit into her sandwich, wiping her mouth of any trace of ranch dressing, "anyway. He, like, smiled and stuff and asked me what I wanted out of the company and told me I'll be his right hand woman for real now."

"Usually, Zayn's right hand woman would partake in his sexual affairs while away on business. Personal assistants go with him on these trips and they share a room and everything. You're up for that?"

"You had me at sexual affairs," Crissle shrugged. "I mean, he's annoying as fuck, but, I'm up for a little fun while working."

"Wow," Andrea sipped on her tea and puckered her lips, "did not expect that out of you. You're so...free spirited yet conservative yet...wow, you just wanna have sex?"

"Well, have you seen Zayn?" Crissle asked rhetorically, "like...let's go on vacation now."

Andrea laughed. "You're hilarious!"

She was serious, though.

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IT'S YOUUUUOUOOUYOYYUUUUUU

bye y'all xxx