Three weeks after the meeting Aaron and I held among the staff, and the board of directors about the Kinsley Holdings, our company was notified about an upcoming event by an anonymous investor.

Strange

I was in my own office building, tending the documents I left on my desk. Those papers were left untouched because my focus for the past week is the acquisition of a new company.

My line of business may be different from my father's, but I did my best to understand how everything works. The organization of projects and reports are quite still similar to what I've been used to, so it did not take long before I managed to juggle both companies. Of course, as much as I would hate to admit it, Vanessa Carter did a very good job as my secretary as well. She's the one who arranged, and fixed my schedules. She often travels here in my company just to compare notes with Mrs. Diaz, my other secretary, which was upon seeing the latter, Vanessa immediately offered to help her with my hectic schedule.

Mrs. Amelia Diaz is a 65 year-old woman who had been working under my father ever since I can remember. She was my nanny when I was just a child, and kind of like my second mom (or my grandmother).

When my father died, my mother decided to take the responsibility of taking care of the household chores to overcome her grief. The people working in our house adored us so much that my mother practically begged them to give her their work. Because of that the staff decided to look for other jobs before leaving us. Then one by one, they gave their goodbyes to my mom.

Mrs. Diaz, however refuses to leave because she doesn't want to go back to her house, claiming that she will only remember the early death of her husband, Cyrus. She is very loyal to our family, and because of that I finally agreed for her to be my secretary.

Nana became part of everything I do. She was there from the beginning until now that my company is earning billions and billions of dollars. I asked her if maybe it's time for her to retire from being my secretary, and just keep my mother company. I decided to accept applicants that will take her position. But every time I hire someone, instead of training them, she's always giving them a hard time.

But when Vanessa Carter came to the office, asking for my schedule, she warmed up to her immediately. She even gave me a wink after she saw me staring at them.

When I came back to the office in the afternoon, Nana informed me that she might be retiring sooner than later. She's finally accepting my offer to just relax with my mom.

"I hope you do well with her," she said, and I frowned at her. Her? Who's her?

"Who are you talking about grandma?"

"What happened to Mrs. Diaz, boy?"

"We can drop the formalities now since you will no longer work in this office."

She glared at me. She hated being called grandma. When I was a kid, I always call her grandma, but she always tells me to call her 'nana' instead.

"You'll see," she smiled, and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I already talked to her, and she will be taking over my position as your secretary in this company."

I have a bad feeling about what her answer would be but I still asked. "Who are we talking about?"

And right on cue, Vanessa Carter came in my office.

"Good Afternoon, Mr. Westwood," she gave me a nod, and smiled softly at grandma, "Mrs. Diaz."

"Oh, dear, you don't have to call me Mrs. Diaz anymore, just call me Amelia," she said, and gave Vanessa a warm hug. I was surprised that she hugged Vanessa. As far as I can remember, my mom, and I are the only people she hugs.

"And why would she call you that?" I asked. "You both are still in the office."

"Dear, I will no longer be in the office. I already told you that I will retire."

My jaw dropped. She gotta be kidding me. "You mean you were just waiting for Vanessa to come here?"

I looked at Vanessa, and saw how confused she was. She probably didn't know what we were talking about.

"Mrs. Diaz, you're retiring already?"

"Yes, dear. You are the one who offered to help me, remember? From now on, you will be the one who will take care of Nate's schedule. You will now be his Personal Assistant."

Personal Assistant?

I stared at her. This is not happening. I have been avoiding Vanessa for the past three weeks. The reason why she always comes here is because I told her to talk to my other secretary, instead of disturbing me in my work. I don't want to see her because her presence is really distracting. I no longer stayed in my office in the Westwood-Stevens Industries because of her. And now she is going to be my PA? Go figure!

After what seemed like forever, Nana cleared her throat and bid as goodbye.

After she left, my office was filled with awkward silence. My "ahem" personal assistant was looking around, probably because this is the first time she saw my office here.

I stared at her and noticed the slight change in wardrobe. Unlike her first week as my secretary, her clothing now, becomes... conservative? Her skirt now hides her creamy legs, her blouse is fully buttoned, and she is wearing a dark-rimmed glasses. Scratch that slight change. She changed her wardrobe. Maybe she felt that she's getting too much attention from the opposite sex?

Whatever it is, it's not working. She may be hiding under those conservative clothes, but she is still as sexy as hell. Those clothes may hide the creamy skin of hers, but they hugged her curves pretty well.

I was still assessing her new look when I heard her gasped.

"Juan Luna?" she asked, and I looked at the painting she was pointing. I smiled. So she knows art.

"Yes, that is Spo–"

"Spoliarium" she said cutting me off.

"But that is not the real–"

"I know."

"Impressive. But how did you know?" I asked, although I already know what her answer would be.

"If it's not obvious yet, I love art. Spoliarium is made by a Filipino artist named Juan Luna in 1885."

"1884" I corrected. She smiled and glanced at me.

"I know. I was just checking if you know."

"Of course, I do, I am the one who designed my office. I know every piece of artwork here in my building because I'm the one in-charge therefore, chose them," I said proudly. I love art ever since I was a kid. I am always fascinated with the stories, and meanings behind every figure in a painting. It shows how well an artist is molded by the environment, culture, and surroundings through his artwork. "I'm surprised that among the paintings in my office, this is the painting that catches your attention the most."

"And why is that a surprise?" she arched her left eyebrow at me.

"Because as you can see, that painting actually portrays violence." I pointed at the center of the painting where a person is being dragged out. "Look here."

"You don't have to tell me. I probably know more about the painter, and his works, than you," she smiled before she continued. "Juan Luna is a Filipino artist. He painted that in Madrid. The painting―the original painting now hangs in the National Museum in the Philippines."

"I always feel that the painting symbolizes what was happening in his country back then," she said as her eyes became dreamy. She smiled to herself before she continued. "Philippines has been under the Spaniards for 333 years."

"Wow."

"I know, right? Too long."

"I didn't say 'wow' because it was too long. I said it because you didn't use approximately 300 years."

"I love the Philippines even though I haven't even set foot on their country," she admitted and then stared back at the painting. "They have endured too much. But their spirits to fight for their freedom was never lost. Paintings are not the only things they used to speak their thoughts. A man named José Rizal wrote a novel entitled 'Noli Me Tangere' and 'El Filibusterismo'."

"'Touch me not' and 'the outcast'?"

"I am not sure about the outcast thing, but yes."

She was still looking at the painting. I have to ask myself; how can she be working in the office right now as my secretary? She could be a politician or an owner of another company. Most girls would not care about the history of their own country, much less other countries.

Again, you should know by now that she is not most girls.

I was going to ask her more about the history of the Philippines when she snapped out of her daze, her dreamy eyes disappeared as she looked at me.

"I forgot to give this to you." She said as she handed me a small envelope.

I stared at the envelope before reading the letter bearing its message.

With raised eyebrow, I looked at Vanessa and asked, "A masquerade ball?"