The Assistant(9)

Amy gave me a blank look before bursting into a full fit of laughter, once again putting the laptop aside to smack her thigh multiple times and rock backwards and forwards. I frowned. “What? What happened?” I asked in confusion, frowning at her.

“’Stem to their flower’! Em! He does actually have a stem.” She pointed down to her crotch area and winked, “And us lovely women like to refer to our goods as flowers.” She pointed to her crotch area again.

I frowned. “I’ve never heard of that reference before. You need to meet a guy, like right away.” I reached for the laptop and placed it on her lap once again. “Now help me!” I demanded.

She laughed, waving me off. “Relax, I’ve got this. Go make us both a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Sure, marshmallows this time or are you ‘watching your weight’ again?” I laughed, remembering the last time Amy had tried to eat healthy – it didn’t last long – she broke as soon as she saw a chocolate bar in my fridge.

“HA-HA.” Amy glared, trying to fight a smile. “Stuff so much in that I won’t even be able to drink the hot chocolate! And it’s black and white themed, right? And he said he wanted the dress to be brand-named? God, he sure is picky for a man. That doesn’t matter though – he’s still as hot as hell.” Amy laughed, winking in my direction.

I rolled my eyes and ignored her as I lazily strolled into my kitchen and took the ingredients out to make my famous hot chocolate. As I was mixing the milk, I heard Amy gasp from the other room. “EMILY! IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH MONEY LEFT OVER, CAN I PLEASE BUY A DRESS TOO?”

I laughed before answering. “Of course you can, Ames!” I called out. “It’ll be like a personal thank you gift from Adrian himself.” I tipped the mini marshmallows into Amy’s mug before starting on mine.

Amy didn’t reply, and I took it as a sign of satisfaction before my best friend’s body came stumbling into the kitchen with widened eyes. “Did you just call him Adrian? As in you’re-on-a-first-name-basis-with-the-hottest-person-living-Adrian? How did you manage to leave that part out when you were telling me everything that happened?!” She slapped my arm as punishment for this apparent transgression.

“Hey!” I squeaked, rubbing the spot as she frowned at me and took her mug. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know saying his first name would be such a big deal. Plus, you kept referring to him as ‘sexy pants’!” I argued, continuing to mix my chocolate into the milk.

“Um, Hello? Breathing is a big deal! So obviously his name is too! I don’t know what to do with you anymore.” She muttered other things to herself that I couldn’t understand, as she exited the kitchen while plopping marshmallows into her mouth.


I raised an eyebrow and shook my head at her uniqueness as I put a spoonful of marshmallows into my own hot chocolate and following her out. Amy and I had been best friends since Junior year, when I came to high school as a transfer student from Vermont. We clicked instantly, obsessing over Harry Potter like our lives were dependent on it. We had both made it to NYU after graduation – where we started our degrees in business and teaching – and stayed attached at the hip the entire time.

I smiled at her ‘concentration face’ as she sipped her hot chocolate and scrolled through the dresses revealed on the bright screen thoughtfully. “I think I’m going to go for Chanel or Hervé Léger,” she mumbled to herself before swiftly typing it into the search engine. “That’s always the safest option to begin a successful career in.”

After what felt like hours (to me), Amy let out a startling yelp. “This is it! I don’t care what you and your uptight morals or your sexy boss say; you’re wearing this dress Saturday night.” Amy gave me a look I was all too familiar with – her eyebrow was slightly raised and her lips were set in a thin line – that’s when I knew that there was no room for arguments.

“Show me.”

Amy passed over the laptop as she took another sip of her hot chocolate and observed my expression – no doubt waiting to see my reaction. I studied the dress – it was a plain black bandage dress that had a V shaped neckline and enough material to cover my shoulders.

“You can wear it with the peep-toe Louboutin’s we bought you last year,” she explained, taking another sip of her drink. “And we can put your hair up in a high bun or in a nice side hairstyle.”

I looked at the dress again in doubt. It looked awfully fitting to the body…

“Don’t you dare tell me it looks too tight, Emily Hannah Johnson, or so help me I will email an image to your boss pretending to be you and asking for his approval of the dress. You have the perfect body shape for it!” Amy gestured at my chest area like that was enough to prove her point.

“Ames…”

“You’re not finishing that sentence!” she snapped, snatching the laptop from me and doing something with a stern expression on her face.

“What are you do-”

“WHOOPS,” Amy grinned. “I accidentally pressed buy!” She pretended to gasp. “Oh no! What will you do now?!” She asked in a mock- dramatic tone. My eyes widened in shock before I glared at her and put my hot chocolate down.

“Amy! Why would you do that?! What if he doesn’t deem it worthy enough for the event? That’s – how much was it?” I asked curiously, cutting myself off.