Chapter 2

Isabella

―But before he takes her with him, do you have all your documents with you?" the woman asked. I nodded and took them out of my portfolio-style bag, handing them to her. As she reviewed them, I looked around the place. Ever since I entered through the elevator doors, the atmosphere felt cold. I could still feel it beneath my suit jacket. “Were they trying to keep it warm?” I thought sarcastically. It was fall, but it felt like a minimalist freezer decked out with quirky paintings.

"Alright, follow me," she said. I followed, trying not to slouch due to the buttons on my blouse and being careful not to take wide strides to avoid ripping my skirt. "God, please don't let me harm anyone with a button today." We stopped in front of double doors. "Every time you enter with Mr. Ashgar, you need to knock twice, just as I will, and wait for confirmation before entering."

"Okay," I nodded, understanding what she was telling me.

"You can't knock more than twice. There's a security camera right there," she pointed. "You have to follow the rules." I nodded again, slowly comprehending her instructions. She delicately knocked on the door twice with her knuckles.

"Come in," a strong male voice was heard from the other side of the door.

"Now you can enter the interview," she opened the door and gestured for me to go in. I did, thinking I would just leave my documents, but she closed the door behind me. The office was cold, and there was no one sitting at the intimidating desk. From where I stood, all I could see was the light from the desk lamp and, to my right, a large and elegant leather room a few meters away. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a view of the neighboring buildings, but the view disappeared as the glass darkened.

"I'll leave you," a tall figure emerged from a room in the back. "Yes, I have to do it myself. My secretary doesn't know how to choose the right personnel for the position. Bien sûr, je t'appellerai plus tard," he hung up the call. The last words he said had hypnotized me: "Of course, I'll call you later." I loved the French language; I mastered it in a couple of months, but I never had the opportunity to use it in my previous job.

"Good morning, Mr. Ashgar. I'm Isabella Sánchez Figueroa."

"Good morning," he didn't look at me as he walked. He approached his desk and slumped onto it, with the desk lamp barely illuminating half of his face. I don't know why I tensed up. "Please take a seat." I nodded, but as I approached, panic set in. "If I sit, will I rip my skirt?" I thought. "Or should I remain standing?" I noticed he raised an eyebrow and gave me a discreet once-over.

"I would prefer to stand, if it's not too much trouble, sir."

"Alright, then. You're here for the position of personal assistant to the president."

"What?" The word slipped out, unfiltered.

"Pardon?" he suddenly said, not understanding any more than I did.

"Sorry," I cleared my throat. "The position of the president's assistant?"

"Yes, that's the only vacancy we have at the moment, as far as I can recall, which is rare because I don't usually forget anything," he began reviewing the papers on his desk. "You are the person recommended by Sophia Maxwell, who was previously the head of accounting and finance at WB Automotive. She now holds the same position at Ashgar Export." He waited for a response from me.

"I thought the position was for an administrative role on the floor."

"No, it's for the position of my personal assistant," he said, and I tensed up.

"Alright, that's fine," I was uncomfortable; I didn't know what a personal assistant did.

"You are Isabella," he was reading something on a tablet. The light from the device illuminated his face better, and I stood frozen in place. "What is a magazine model?" I thought for a moment, then mentally scolded myself. But I had to be honest; this wouldn't work.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ashgar," the man tensed his jaw and looked up from the tablet. "Honestly, I don't know why Miss Maxwell recommended me for a position I have no experience in. I know this would be a waste of your time, so I'll excuse myself. Thank you for your precious time..." I inclined my head as a farewell and turned towards the door.

"Stop right there," he commanded, and I halted, turning back to face him.

"Yes?" He pressed his lips firmly, stood up, and grabbed a remote, and I realized the office was starting to light up completely. "Impressive, such advanced technology."

"You were recommended by her, so we gave you priority, as we prefer recommendations from top employees, and she's no exception," he paused. "So, you're just going to leave because it's not an administrative role?" I tensed up.

"I have no experience as a personal assistant, sir."

"Then why not take a risk?" He put his hands in the pockets of his elegant dress pants and leaned against the edge of his desk, looking directly at me. I walked towards him and stopped at a safe distance before slowly nodding.

"I apologize for you witnessing that part of me." He barely stretched the corners of his lips discreetly, but then raised an eyebrow.

"Then let's begin the interview." He circled the desk, and I tried not to look at him too much. He reached his chair and sighed, picking up his tablet. "Based on what I see in your online application, you have experience in all administrative tasks."

"Yes, sir," I replied. He placed his tablet on the desk in front of him, and our gazes met. I tensed up; his gaze was intense and uncomfortable. I didn't know where to look. I didn't say anything more; I was even considering finding the nearest escape route.