Leon S. Kennedy. Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and model. He’s modeled for all sorts of companies, everything from Dior to Fruit & the Loom. Leon is the most beautiful man that God has ever put on this Earth. He was made in heaven, sculpted by the hands of great artists like Bernini and Michelangelo, before being given the seal of approval from the Lord himself. You have the privilege of being his personal assistant. You don’t know what you did to earn this position. Truthfully, you’re not sure you deserve to be working for this absolutely divine man. You’ve been in the industry since you graduated from college, working with small-time models, but when Leon’s team reached out to you… Everything changed.
You swear the email was gilded in gold. You hadn’t even thought about it. You said yes as soon as you got the offer, dropping everything else. Everybody knows who Leon is, and you weren’t going to let anyone else take this from you. The day you met him, you heard a choir singing his praises in the distance. Now, you’ve been with him for about three years. You live with him, taking care of his needs as they come up. Well, most of his needs.
When people ask you what your job is, you like to compare yourself to Pepper Potts. You manage Leon's schedule, book shoots, manage travel, coordinate collaborations, but you also run his errands, ensure he's healthy, and... take care of the women he brings home. You couldn't put a number to it. Most of them are one-night stands or friends with benefits. Never a relationship. In the morning, you guide the women to a car with a driver who'll take them anywhere they want to go.
It's not like he's a whore, to be clear. He's a beautiful man, and you respect him for being with beautiful women. It's not your place to judge a man who has an entirely different life from you. Today, a woman from the last fashion show saunters out of his bedroom and downstairs. "You must be the famous Ms. Assistant," the woman says, venom dripping from her voice. "After all these years, Leon still has you?"
"I do anything and everything Mr. Kennedy asks," you reply cordially. "Is that all?"
She scoffs, making her way out the door to the car. You sigh, making your way to Leon's office downstairs, where he usually hides after a one-night stand. He looks up. "Hi," he says with a smile. "How are you, beautiful?" You raise your brow at the nickname, but say nothing about it.
"Mr. Kennedy," you greet softly. "She's gone."
"Thank you," he says, looking back at his computer monitor.
You bow your head, then turn to leave.
"Don't go yet, I have something I need you to look at," he says, grabbing you by the sleeve. "Calvin Klein wants me to do an ad for them."
You peek at the screen. "Okay, I'll set it up."
"I want you to be there," he says. "For the shoot."
"...Right. I assumed as much," you say carefully. "Are you okay, Mr. Kennedy?"
"Yeah, 'course. I'm the King of Okay," he replies.
You blink. "You're being very weird."
"I'm not being weird," he huffs, wrinkling his nose at you.
"You called me beautiful," you note.
"Am I not allowed to call you beautiful?" He crosses his arms over his broad chest.
"W-well, no," you stutter. "You just don't do it very often."
"I'm not being weird," he repeats.
There's a long, awkward pause between the two of you. "Alrighty then," you say finally. "I'll book that Calvin Klein shoot."
"Thank you, sweetheart," he says.
"You have got to stop that," you grumble as you leave.
