Millicent
At the office, we fell into our professional roles seamlessly. I brought him coffee at ten, sat in on his eleven o'clock meeting, managed to reschedule his afternoon conflict without him even asking. We'd developed a rhythm that went beyond assistant and boss. I could read his moods, anticipate his needs, handle situations exactly how he would. It was like we shared a brain sometimes.
"Ms. Adams," he called from his office around two. "I need the Morrison files."
I was already walking in with them. "The updated projections are on top, and I highlighted the sections that need your review."
"How do you always know?" he asked, taking the files with a shake of his head.
"I pay attention," I echoed his words from this morning, and the smile he gave me made my heart skip.
The pro
