Alex Holmes wants to become the most famous fashion designer in New York, and getting a job as the personal assistant of designer to the stars Christina Robinson is her ticket to gain access to the industry insiders. There's just one problem: Robinson refuses to hire women, since she believes a women could never have a thick enough skin to do the job while simultaneously putting up with her abuse. More
Alex Holmes wants to become the most famous fashion designer in New York, and getting a job as the personal assistant of designer to the stars Christina Robinson is her ticket to gain access to the industry insiders. There's just one problem: Robinson refuses to hire women, since she believes a women could never have a thick enough skin to do the job while simultaneously putting up with her abuse. Thanks to an oversight during the hiring process, Alex gets an interview with Robinson and manages to talk her into a ninety-day unpaid trial period. As the months pass and the sexual tension between the spiky fashion designer and the determined woman grows, so does Robinson's desperation to prove her original opinion of Alex correct. The night before she is due to sign the employment contract, Robinson calls her to her home for one final attempt to chase her away. If she can't break her professionally, she decides, then she'll damn well break her privately.
This 10,000 word story contains graphic language, erotic situations, oral sex, bdsm, domination, submission and it is very much a story for adults (18+)
In the weeks since the awards ceremony, Robinson's attempts to scare her away from the job began to hold an edge of near-desperation. Alex, conversely, had gained an air of serene understanding that was clearly driving her boss batshit crazy. She hurled abuse; she smiled and responded with quiet competence. She berated her for failing to do a task; she politely pointed out that the task had been completed before she even asked about it.
It was clear that Robinson found her failure to... well... fail... to be an almost personal insult. On the one hand, Alex was counting the minutes until the job was hers. On the other, she was finding the almost unbearable tension between them even more demoralizing than their previous impersonal, guarded dislike.
Tonight, the final evening was upon her. Tomorrow, she would sign the contract and officially become the personal assistant of one of the most powerful people in the fashion industry. Now, she only needed to complete the familiar task of choosing a blouse for Robinson's mysterious "late meeting", and she could go home and crash in front of the TV for a few hours with a bottle of red wine and a tub of Häagen-Dazs.... because after eighty-nine days of hell on earth, she fucking well deserved it.
She forced a smile onto her face and knocked on the bedroom door, entering upon hearing the surly acknowledgment from within. Robinson was wearing a gray suit skirt and a white bra, not that it really mattered. Linkin Park raged on the sound system in the background, singing "Fuck you! I won't do what you tell me", over and over. The anger in the lyrics grated at Alex's already overtaxed nerves, but she shoved her reaction down with the ease of long practice.
"You look nice, tonight," she said pleasantly, raising her voice enough to be heard over the music and receiving only a grunt in reply.