Chapter 6

“I’m sorry, did you say marriage?”

As I observe Julie’s reactions, I can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and intrigue. The purpose of this meeting was to apply pressure, to see how she’d react under the kind of stress that most people would break under. But she’s holding her own, maintaining a composure that’s both frustrating and fascinating.

There’s a hint of embarrassment in her demeanor, a natural response given the circumstances. But it’s her resilience, her ability to stand firm in the face of extreme discomfort, that truly catches my attention. It’s a rare quality I admire.

Eventually, though, I see a flicker of confusion cross her face, a slight uncertainty in how to proceed. Good. Being off balance and unsure is exactly where I want her. It’s these types of moments, these cracks in the facade, when true character is revealed.

When she stammers, it’s a humanizing moment, one that should irritate me but instead strikes me as endearing. It’s a glimpse of the person behind the professional mask, a hint of vulnerability that’s unexpectedly appealing.

Julie pauses, clearly trying to gather her thoughts, and I watch her with a keen interest. She’s more than just an assistant; she’s a puzzle, a challenge, an enigma.

‘I haven’t really thought about marriage,’ she finally says, her voice steadier.

I’ve always prided myself on being able to read people, to anticipate their reactions and maneuver them accordingly. But Julie, she’s different. She defies the patterns, the predictable responses.

‘No boyfriend?’ I press on, watching as her cheeks redden once more. The blush that spreads across her face is outrageously sexy and appealing, adding a layer of sensitivity to her otherwise composed exterior.

‘I’m single,’ she answers immediately. There’s an edge to her voice, a steeliness that speaks of more than just her relationship status. ‘I’ve been single for a while.’

I decide to delve deeper, curious to see how far I can push her.

‘What do you think of marriage?’ I ask again, maintaining my composure.

Julie answers my question with silence. Her eyes, usually so expressive and vibrant, now hold a guarded wariness. I can almost see the wheels turning in her mind, trying to decipher the meaning behind my words, the intent of this unusual line of questioning.

Her frustration finds voice in a question laced with sarcasm and genuine inquiry. ‘Are you just making sure I won’t be homeless if you fire me? Checking to see if I have a husband or boyfriend to fall back on?’ Her words are sharp, her tone biting.

I can’t help but chuckle, not out of amusement but at the absurdity of the idea. ‘No, Julie,’ I respond, my voice calm and assured. ‘I know you can take care of yourself.’ It’s the truth. I’ve always admired her independence, her capability. Two qualities out of many that sets her apart.

‘So what the hell are you doing then?’ she demands, her voice tinged with both anger and confusion.

The raw emotion in her voice and the intensity of her gaze are a stark contrast to the usual composed assistant I’m used to. It’s refreshing, and it solidifies the decision I’ve been contemplating.

The time has come to end her frustration, to lay my cards on the table. I look at her directly, making sure she understands the gravity of my words.

‘I want a wife and child,’ I state plainly, holding her gaze to ensure she grasps the full meaning of my statement, that she knows how serious I am. The room feels charged with the weight of my confession, the air thick with implications and unspoken questions.

‘And I think you’re perfect for that job.”