John Raworth

The Object of Desire

I am... I was 25 years old. I still am, I just don't look it, and I don't feel it. I was hired right out of school, personal assistant to Mr. Brightman. The work was a little drab at first, it was mostly setting up meetings, keeping his schedule, but I suppose I did a good enough job with all of those things to get a... promotion of sorts. Maybe it took some time to build up his trust, not as an individual but as a good worker, because I didn't have very many interactions with the old man. He seemed to have little understanding of money and pay rates, because the new salary he was offering was very generous for the work he proposed. It's something that comes with being ridiculously wealthy, I told myself, and that's what Brightman was.