Vanessa's mansion in Beverly Hills was a far cry from the empty restaurant I had just left behind. As I walked through the marble hallways, lined with expensive artwork and the faint scent of her signature perfume, it felt surreal. Everything here was polished, perfect, and controlled—nothing like the chaos I had been drowning in.
Vanessa led me into her living room, the space dominated by floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sprawling LA skyline. She moved with her usual grace, her long black hair flowing down her back, every step deliberate and elegant. I felt out of place, like a kid who had wandered into a world of adults, but Vanessa always made me feel like I belonged, even when I didn't believe it myself.
She motioned for me to sit on the plush white couch as she poured two glasses of wine. I had barely settled in when she turned to me, her dark eyes sparkling with something I hadn't seen in a while—excitement.
"I've got some good news for you, darling," she said, handing me a glass and sitting beside me, her body angled toward mine.
I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Good news? I could use some of that right about now."
She smiled, that sweet, knowing smile that always made me feel like she was ten steps ahead of everyone else. "I know things have been tough for you, Tristan, and I hate seeing you like this. You've worked so hard, and you deserve a break. But... I've been thinking. I might have a solution."
I took a sip of the wine, trying to relax, but there was something about the way she said "solution" that made me nervous. Vanessa always had a plan, always had something up her sleeve, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to hear it.
"What kind of solution?" I asked cautiously, glancing over at her.
She set her glass down on the table, her expression softening as she leaned in closer. "You know my family's company, of course. You interned there a couple of summers ago."
I nodded, remembering the internship. It had been a whirlwind—meetings, reports, coffee runs, endless tasks that made me feel like I was nothing more than a glorified assistant. But it was Vanessa's family company, one of the biggest in the country, and even being an intern there had felt like a big deal.
"Yeah, I remember," I said, not sure where she was going with this.
She smiled again, her hand resting lightly on my knee. "Well, I've been talking to my father, and we both think it would be a good idea for you to come work for us again. But this time, not as an intern."
I blinked, trying to process what she was saying. "Not as an intern?"
Vanessa shook her head, her smile widening. "No, darling. This time, I want you to work as my private secretary."
I stared at her, the words not quite sinking in. "Your private secretary?"
She nodded, her expression warm but serious. "Yes. I know it's not exactly what you had in mind for your career, but it would be a good way to gain some experience, rebuild your confidence. You'd work directly with me, handling important tasks, helping with projects. It's only temporary, of course, and you're free to leave whenever you want. But I think it would be a great opportunity for you to learn and grow."
I sat there in stunned silence, my mind racing. A private secretary? For Vanessa? It felt like a lifeline, a way out of the mess I'd found myself in, but it also felt... strange. I had been chasing my own dream for so long, and now I was being offered a position that felt like a safety net. Part of me wanted to say yes immediately, to grab the opportunity and run with it, but another part of me— the part that still wanted to prove I could do it on my own—was reluctant.
Vanessa watched me carefully, her eyes searching mine. "Tristan, I know you're hesitant, but I wouldn't offer this if I didn't think it would be good for you. You've been through so much, and I don't want you to feel like you're starting from scratch. This will give you stability, and it's only temporary. You're not locked into anything."
I swallowed, trying to find the right words. "It's just... I don't know, Vanessa. It feels like I'm giving up on what I really wanted."
She shook her head, her voice soft but firm. "You're not giving up on anything. You're regrouping. Sometimes, the path to success isn't a straight line. You take detours, you adjust, and you find your way back. This isn't the end of your dream, Tristan—it's just a step in a different direction for now."
I leaned back on the couch, running a hand through my hair. "I don't know if I can do it. I mean, being your private secretary... it feels weird."
Vanessa tilted her head, her lips curving into a small smile. "Why? Because we're involved?"
I hesitated, not wanting to say the wrong thing. "Yeah. I mean, won't people think it's... I don't know, that I'm just there because of you?"
Her smile faded slightly, and she leaned in closer, her voice low and serious. "People will always think what they want to think, Tristan. But I'm offering you this position because you're smart, capable, and because I believe in you. Not because of anything else."
I met her gaze, seeing the sincerity in her eyes. Vanessa wasn't just throwing me a bone—she genuinely believed this would be good for me. And maybe she was right. Maybe I needed a break from chasing my own dream, a chance to regroup and figure things out without the weight of failure pressing down on me.
I let out a long breath, the tension in my chest easing just a little. "Okay," I said quietly. "I'll do it. I'll take the job."
Vanessa's face lit up with a smile, and she squeezed my hand. "Good. I'm glad you're giving it a chance."
I nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and uncertainty. "Just... don't expect me to be any good at it right away."
She laughed softly, her fingers brushing lightly against my cheek. "Don't worry. I'll train you."
I smiled, leaning into her touch. "I bet you will."
We sat there for a moment, the weight of the decision hanging between us. It wasn't what I had planned, it wasn't the path I thought I'd be taking, but for the first time in weeks, I felt like I was moving forward again. Maybe it wasn't my dream job, but it was a step. And right now, that was enough.
Vanessa leaned back, picking up her wine glass again. "To new beginnings," she said, raising it toward me.
I picked up my own glass, clinking it lightly against hers. "To new beginnings," I echoed.
And as we sat there in her perfect, polished world, I couldn't help but feel like maybe this wasn't the end of my story—just the start of a new chapter.
Q: Would you take the job?