headlock
Headlock
Cassandra
It really is true; her promotion is something worth celebrating. It's a wonder, really.
Cassandra Parker—a 22-year-old nobody who happened to land an advantageous interview two years ago—is now officially the personal assistant to the executive assistant of Stark Industries, Pepper Potts.
It started with an entry-level administrative position, thanks to a good word from her previous boss and a hiring manager seemingly free from the usual nepotism and age-based discrimination.
You know, it's hard to raise a 15 year old superhero while also maintaining a normal life. This job however, gave her that.
After about a month, the comments about her young age and inexperience fizzled out.
This was for one reason and one reason only: Cassandra is damn good at her job. She didn't just excel—she thrived. Predicting corporate crises turned out to be an admirable skill of hers. Cassandra saw holes in logistics before they even happened. When a shareholder hesitated during a phone call, she noticed where his words faltered and preemptively addressed concerns before they could even be voiced.
When an angry director wanted to rip into Miss Potts, Cassandra already had the dirt on his own poor decisions filed in her brain, ready for a swift takedown. It wasn’t just calendar optimization or redirecting big businessmen from bigoted decisions—it was intuition. Sharpened like a knife from years of training. May Be helped by her particular talent. Reading people, reading emotions. It was a very useful tool.
It didn’t take long for her to rise through the ranks. As it turns out, competent assistants who can keep up with a fast-paced CEO like Pepper Potts—who not only runs Stark Industries but seems to run Tony Stark himself—are in high demand. Cassie often refers to it as her Devil Wears Prada moment: charming a perfectionist CEO with her competence.
The executive assistant, Shannon James—a woman in her mid-thirties, single, armed with a bachelor’s degree in business communication—had used Cassie as a personal assistant far longer than her title suggested. It only seemed fitting that Cassie’s pay and benefits finally reflected the work she’d been doing.
Shannon is like a corporate machine, Cassie thinks. She swears she’s never seen the woman blink. Shannon is good, really good—the best, which is likely why she works so closely with one of the richest women in the world. Sometimes it feels like Shannon and Miss Potts speak a secret super-mechanized productivity language, one even Cassie struggles to decipher.
Cassie’s contact with Pepper Potts is often brief but surprisingly meaningful. Pepper makes it a mission to know everyone’s names. She even asks about Peter during rare moments of small talk—whether walking between meetings that require Maggie’s hands to juggle stacks of board reports or when Cassie decides the busy CEO could use a piping hot cappuccino with extra mocha and a pastry.
And she’s never wrong about that.
When less formal, non-urgent, personal requests arise, they usually fall to Cassie. Maybe it’s Shannon’s robotic disposition, but Cassie doubts Shannon would excel at picking out flowers for Miss Potts’ mother or crafting heartfelt, handwritten congratulatory cards when a business partner gets married or reproduces.
Cassie, however, thrives on those tasks.
They’re her bread and butter.
She finds she likes her boss very much.
Today, however, shit really hit the corporate fan.
Shannon is sick (her first sick day ever), three meetings need to be postponed, tomorrow’s board meeting must be rescheduled—a logistical nightmare, thank you very much—and three double bookings of Miss Potts’ time have to be unraveled. Cassie works swiftly and efficiently but can’t help sending a small curse to poor Shannon, currently home nursing scarlet fever, for leaving these wonderful tasks to her.
She’s handling it all well, she thinks. Not once has her professional façade faltered—not her "Yes, of course, I’ll handle that for you," or her "No problem at all, I’ll get this message to Miss Potts as soon as possible," or her "Unfortunately, I can’t put you through right now." This is why Cassie excels. She sees challenges before they emerge, snuffing out fires while they’re still embers.
But then Tony Stark walks in at 3:18 PM.
Cassie has seen him before—this is his girlfriend’s office space, after all—but somehow he’s always been just leaving: popping in to say hello to Miss Potts, sometimes bearing giant bouquets, sometimes wearing casual clothes, and sometimes sporting meticulously tailored suits. He doesn’t seem to care who sees him here.
Today, though, he seems frazzled. He’s still in a suit worth more than Cassie’s rent, but his hair is a mess, and his oversized sunglasses scream "over it."
Even worse, he’s making a beeline for Cassie’s desk.
Oh my god, is Tony Stark actually going to talk to me?
This isn’t good. Really not good. It’s not like she’s fan, but come on—it’s Iron Man! Peter would be having multiple heart attacks right now. Peter is probably the biggest Iron Man fan in New York—not just because of the superhero thing, but because of Tony’s brain, the clean energy innovations, the medical advancements and what not.
But this moment isn’t about that, she reminds herself. Tony Stark isn’t the world-famous Avenger right now. He’s just the needy boyfriend of her very very busy boss, who definitely doesn’t have time for a social call today.
Before she can ask how she can help, he exclaims, “Hey, you! I need to see Miss Potts, like, immediately. What meeting room is she in?” He sounds impatient, not urgent. She can feel his energy. Impatient, figidy.
It’s just my boss’s needy boyfriend, she reminds herself.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” she says with a kind but firm expression, “Miss Potts specifically requested not to be disturbed today unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
“Okay,” he says, clearly taken aback that a young assistant didn’t instantly bow to his wishes. “Then it is absolutely necessary.”
“Why don’t you relay the message to me, and I’ll see if I can get Miss Potts for you?” she replies, hiding a hint of snark. She was told not to let Tony Stark disturb Pepper Potts too much. Apparently his three three strikes of pulling her out of important investor meetings were up. And if there is one person she doesn´t want to make cross, it would be Pepper Potts.
“Well, tell her I need to talk to her right now,” he insists. “Or just tell me where she is, and I’ll find her myself.”
“I'll let her know, mister Stark.” She says with a smile so sweet that it very obviously looks painted on, the annoyance building in her. Just a needy boyfriend , she reminds herself again. God he really is annoying.
And she makes him wait too. Only after five minutes of lingering outside the meeting room does she see the opportunity to let Miss Potts know that an impatient Tony Stark is waiting for her. The annoyance is practically radiating off Miss Potts when informed. The walk back is equally as slow, and a whole 9 minutes and 13 seconds later she's back to where Tony Stark has impatiently started playing with the trinkets on her desk.
He holds up a framed picture of Peter and her from last summer “is this your kid? Did you have him at 12? How old are you anyway - where is Shannon?” he questions with dry humor. God, has this man ever been tested for ADHD?
She cuts him off with her best robotic customer service intonation “I´m sorry Mister Stark, but Pepper Potts is currently unable to attend to you, she's in an important meeting, i'll make sure she gets back to you, and I have of course informed her of the urgency”. She's only a little bit smug about the whole thing. “And Miss James is currently on sick leave, so if you have any additional needs, you can come straight to me”. The peppy smile that accompanies her words drives the point home, she hopes.
“This is ridiculous, I'll just go get her myself”.
A burst of bravery takes over Cassie, as she steps in front of him, blocking him from walking towards the meeting rooms. He looks a bit offended, but somehow Cassie doesn't sense that in his energy. He just seems strangely amused - an enigma (an annoying one), she thinks.
Other people in the office have probably started gawking. Is she insane? Probably. He could have her fired on the spot. But fuck it, she has to own this.
“Again, i´m really sorry about the inconvenience, but Miss Potts did specifically instruct me to not let anything disturb her, unless something was on fire or someone was either dead or dying”. Amusement is what she reads on his face.
Then a little admiration for the balls that took (she hopes that is the correct interpretation).
“Her words verbatim. Will that be all mister Stark?” she continues.
“What's your name kid? Whats with the attitude,” he says and gestures towards her with his oversized sunglasses.
“Parker, Cassandra Parker sir.” She hopes the confidence is convincing. She surprisingly doesn't read his energy as particularly mad, despite the remark. Which is of course, great for her not losing her job for being snarky with the former CEO.
Before he or she can say any more, a very cross looking Pepper Potts appears, walking over to them with long strides.
“Tony, why are you harassing my assistant, I was in an important meeting!”, she says as she puts her hands up and leads him away from Cassie.
“I was so not harassing anyone, especially not her. Besides, is she even old enough to be here? Should I be making a call to report a case of child labour?”, he says, not unlike a petulant child, just with more dry sarcasm. Miss Potts rolls her eyes.
“I don't have time for your antics today, Tony -” she scold him,
“Thank you for handling him, Cassandra, i'm sorry for this”
“Handling? I don't need any handling!”
Miss Potts shoots him a look. Their bickering continues all the way into Miss Potts' office.
That was fun, she thinks.