Exercise Discretion

ARIA

My heels click across the large foyer of the Peterson building in Manhattan.

I check in with the doorman, who calls up to Jett Abrams’s office and speaks to someone named Vivian. After hanging up, he gives me strict instructions to go to the elevator and press number thirty-four.

As the elevator rises, my stomach does somersaults. I didn’t sleep super great, and my nerves have been buzzing all morning. It feels like I’m going to an interview for a job that I don’t even want.

More than anything, I want to just go sit in my clean, quiet office at DYAD and answer emails.

I take a deep breath and let it out. Remember, this is for Grandma.

The elevator dings, and the doors open to a sweet-looking woman in her late thirties, who is smiling wide at me.

She is short, only standing about five foot two, and wearing a simple polka-dot dress with a cardigan. Her blonde hair is pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck, and she has a large smile of perfectly white teeth. She exudes the energy of a kindergarten teacher.

“Hi, Aria! I’m Vivian. Nice to meet you!”

I smile back and step forward to shake her hand.

Overly friendly first impressions are more favorable than reserved ones, my training voice plays like a record in my head.

“Nice to meet you too!” I say. “And what do you do here?”

“I’m Jett’s receptionist, and I’ve been a stand-in for the PA position multiple times. I’m really hoping you’ll be the answer to our prayers here,” she says sweetly. “Follow me.”

The thirty-fourth floor is stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows that allow the marble tile to be flooded with light. The furnishings are minimal but modern and impactful, highlighted by a few well-chosen plants. Glass walls reveal boardrooms, work rooms, and offices.

Finally, at the end of the long hall, I see a large desk with two computer screens and a little name tag that says “Vivian Sayers” to the right. To the left is a bank of windows and a small sitting area. Directly in front of us is a large door.

Vivian walks behind her desk and places a large, heavy folder in my hands.

“That’s what you’ll need to start,” she says, shuffling papers around on her desk and putting her headset on. “It contains everything about Jett, from his favorite meals and where to get them to his other vendors, such as his personal trainer, dry cleaner, driver, et cetera.”

Vivian grabs a large planner and plops it in my hands on top of the folder. “Jett’s schedule is here, and I also update it on an online calendar that I’ll share with you.

“Guard all of these items with your life. You’ll make notes in the planner and then run them past me unless he gives you the okay—then just go ahead and add them,” she says.

I nod and flip through the planner.

She continues, “After you meet with him, I’ll get you set up in an office with your computer and email so you can start to organize and sift through everything. The emails are already piling up.”

“I’m meeting with him now? It’s seven thirty,” I say, checking my watch.

“Yes, he likes to start early. Good luck!”

Vivian gestures to the door, and I nod. I place the folder and planner in my left arm and flip it open to today. Then I grab a pen that says “Alastair Holdings, Inc.” out of the cup on Vivian’s desk and click it open.

Okay, here goes.

I stride up to the door and knock.

“Come in.”

I step into the room and again notice the meticulous placement of everything—from the bookshelves in the corner and the beautiful leather furniture to the large, imposing desk sitting in front of a wall of carefully curated art.

Jett Abrams is sitting at said desk, typing away on his laptop.

Upon seeing me walking toward him, his eyebrow goes up a fraction as his eyes take me in from head to toe. The sternness in his face as he searches my whole person makes me nervous—like a kid being sent to the principal’s office.

“Mr. Abrams, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Aria,” I say as I step toward him and nod, stopping to stand five feet in front of his desk. “I’ll be your new PA.”

Don’t let them know you’re nervous. They need to be reassured that you are confident in your abilities.

Jett’s face turns from stern to quizzical. He stands and takes me in again—from my hair down to my shoes.

Everything about Jett Abrams is imposing. He is in a very nice suit, but his sleeves are already rolled up to his forearms, and his jacket is nowhere to be found. He has a sharp chin with light stubble and a prominent yet perfectly straight nose.

Jett’s skin and hair give away his Mediterranean background, but his eyes are what really stand out. Their gold color is contrasted by thick lashes, and they intensely continue to analyze everything about my appearance.

I can see how women fall all over themselves around him. He’s sultry and gorgeous.

“Aria, huh? You don’t…look like a PA,” he says. His voice is almost amused as he leans against his desk and crosses his arms.

I’m completely taken aback by the comment. What the fuck does that mean? I need to respond carefully, or this whole thing could blow up before it starts.

“Sir?” is all I say.

His lips bend into a small smirk. “So, Aria, what were you doing before this position?”

Shit, what is he trying to do?

“Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to discuss previous assignments,” I say. Whew, good save.

He nods. “Okay. And what are your credentials?”

Is this an interview?

“Well, obviously I have been trained by the team at DYAD, and I have a degree from NYU. I’ve completed multiple certifications. Is there something in particular you’d like to know, sir?”

He lifts his chin slightly. I can tell he likes being called sir, and I make a mental note to continue to do so.

“Yes, but I’m sure that will all come out in due time,” he says. “I take it Vivian has given you a quick overview?”

“Yes, very quick. I’ll meet with her next.”

Jett stands up and returns to his desk chair. He motions for me to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. It seems our little game of banter is over—for now.

“I start promptly at seven a.m. unless the schedule states otherwise. Vivian is the keeper of communications and will assist in the scheduling until you have your feet planted, but you’ll handle nearly everything else.

“My hope is”—his eyes settle on me again—“that you will finally be the one to succeed in making my life easier. Essentially, I don’t want to have to think about things that I don’t have to decide. Every morning, we’ll go over the schedule and discuss the specifics of the day.”

I nod and flip the planner open. Today, there are numerous meetings as well as a lunch with someone named Peter Field, a personal training session this afternoon, and dinner promptly at seven p.m.

“Aria,” he says.

My stomach flips hearing my name come out of his mouth. I look up at him.

“I hope that you will exercise discretion in everything that you do here. You will see and be privy to many private spaces and conversations. I will be placing a lot of trust in you. That trust has not been taken seriously by the other assistants that DYAD has sent over. Please don’t disappoint me.”

I smile. “I completely understand. I’ve already signed the appropriate documentation, but I hope to prove to you how invested I am, Mr. Abrams,” I say with calmness and confidence.

Jett regards me again for a moment, then nods. “Thank you. You may get settled now. Please bring me a coffee at nine fifteen,” he says.

I nod and close the folder. I stand and begin to walk toward the door, feeling the heat of his gold eyes on my back.

“Aria.”

I turn and look at him.

“You may call me Jett when it is just the two of us.”

I smile, nod again, and leave.

As soon as I’m on the other side of the large door, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Hi! How’d it go?” Vivian asks hopefully as she approaches me.

“Good, I think,” I say truthfully.

“Great! Let me show you your office.”

The first office in the hallway back toward the elevator is a small space with room for a desk, a chair, and not much more.

“You’re already logged into the PA email and calendar. There’s a cell phone right there for you to use that also has the email and calendar on it.”

I walk in and look around.

“Thank you, this is great,” I say, though I’m not sure I’m convincing. “Mr. Abrams asked for a coffee at nine fifteen. Is that information in here as well?”

“Yes, he’ll be in a meeting in the conference room, but you should walk in, place the coffee in front of him, then leave. How are your barista skills?”

I laugh but see she’s serious—though she’s still smiling.

Always be prepared to learn a new skill and then become an expert in that skill.

“There’s a full espresso bar in the kitchen, and that is his preference. You can find the info in your folder,” she says. “In the meantime, you can start sifting through the emails and call out for his breakfast order.”

“Should I ask him what he wants?” I ask.

“Just choose from the approved list,” she says.

“Oh, okay.”

“Lastly,” Vivian says, reaching into her pocket, “this is your company credit card. You’ll submit any and all receipts to the accounting email with a corresponding code that you can find in the folder.”

“Sounds like everything I need is in here,” I say with a smile.

“I’ve certainly tried to make it that way. We’ve had a lot of turnover, and it became time-consuming to reiterate the info to every new face,” she says sweetly.

“Vivian, may I ask you, what do you think went wrong with the previous PAs?”

Vivian takes a moment to think.

“I think it’s a combination of things. He’s really looking for the right mixture of intelligence, resilience, and adaptability. As I’m sure you can tell, he expects a lot, and he tends to pile it on in the beginning to see who is really serious.”

I nod my understanding.

“Also,” Vivian says, and I can tell she’s not sure whether she should say what she wants to. “I think he has had some trust issues lately—in his personal and professional life. I don’t know the details, but he may be especially skeptical right now.”

“Oh, okay, I’m sorry to hear that. And how long have you worked for him?”

“Nearly five years, but I have to say, I wouldn’t be able to do your job. I actually did at first, but it was too much travel and time away from my family,” she says. Suddenly, she squeezes my shoulder. “I hope I’m not scaring you away.”

I smile reassuringly at her. “Not at all, Vivian. I’m prepared to rise to the challenge.”

“I’m so glad to hear that, Aria. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Vivian retreats, and I’m suddenly grateful for her supportive presence.

“Will do.”