"It was horrible..."

"Don't remind me..." I sighed into the phone, as I opened my small trolley and got my clothes out "I came running back. I was so happy to spend the weekend with my family, and look where that got me: it's Sunday morning and I've barely slept..."

"He said he would go to the office this morning to get some late work done, but Trish said he didn't..." Rachel was telling me; Trish was her weekend replacement.

"He didn't go?" I almost yelled "But it's almost nine!"

"I think he didn't want to go out of the house... I know I wouldn't..."

I sighed and finished my call with Rachel as I grabbed my bag and keys. I ran pass the tight hallway and saw Harmony crashing on the couch – we didn't even sleep, just got the first plane at four am, and ran back to New York.

I knew he would be heading home. I've learned some of his moods – yes, he has more than a grumpy mood. There's 'Excited Julian' – he doesn't really come out that much; 'Moody Julian', which makes ridiculous requests and demands; 'Exhausted Julian', which is basically 24/7, and he just wants to be left alone; and there's 'Crazy Julian'.

...

...

...

Yeah... He's always 'Crazy Julian', isn't he?

I had to take a cab to where he lived – that's Upper East Side and, obviously, the rich people, whose habitat consisted of the most sophisticated and glamorous buildings in Manhattan, didn't need to take the subway.

"Wow... it's like a castle" I slurred as I looked at the four story white stone building.

It was so eighteen hundreds! So beautiful and Jane Austen like.

"Oh, pictures!"

I got my phone off my summer bag and started to take some pictures. Harmony insisted; she was sure his house would be old English style, like Queen Victoria could jump from behind a column or something. I walked inside the glass doors and mumbled 'Wows' and 'Ahs' all the way towards the golden elevator.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

I looked from over my shoulder and stared at a plump, short man in a blue uniform.

"Good morning. It's ok, I'm not a terrorist."

"I'm sorry, Miss...?"

"Oh, McAllister. Georgia McAllister" I smiled, showing my hand and shaking his effusively.

"Right... What floor are you going?" He wanted to know, blue eyes staring suspiciously at me.

"One of the top floors. I'm Mr. von Hauser's secretary."

"He didn't mention you would come" He still frowned.

"How many reporters have come by, today?" I sighed.

"Enough. Look, lady, I have to warn him you're here, and I need you to confirm your identity."

I sighed but nodded, showing him my ID card. He made a call to my boss's apartment and from the pain expression on Mr. Rubik's face – yes, he was named Rubik, how weird was that? – Mr. von Hauser was in 'Moody Julian' and 'Crazy Julian' modes.

"He doesn't want to see you."

"Figures." I sighed, rubbing my eyes – I'm not running a Democracy here, Mr. Rubik – by the way, the coolest name ever! Mr. von Hauser needs me to go upstairs. I assure you, I'm only doing this for his own good."

"Miss, you can't go upstairs" He tossed, as I turned towards the elevator.

"If he asks, I'll tell him I tackled you."

He gave me a sour look and held the elevator doors with his hands. He wasn't letting me go anywhere.

"Fine..." I sighed, showing him my hands helplessly "I'll just- What is that?!"

He still stared at me.

"I'm a Dad. And a grandfather" He informed me.

"Ok, fine! You know, you're just helping the stupid reporters kill his ego!" I grunted, crossing my arms over my torso.

"You need to go now, Miss."

I sighed, getting out of the elevator. Once Mr. Rubik kicked me out of the building, I started engineering a plan. I needed to get inside my boss's house; who knew what kind of creepy desperate and depressive things he might be doing?

"Hey! You saw your boss already?"

"Need your help, Harm."

She heard my plan thoroughly, chuckled and agreed to it.

I waited about ten minutes, and then I saw Mr. Rubik's take the building's phone. He looked bored and just a bit angry. Once he ducked under his desk to look for the building's safety plan, I ran inside. The elevator was still on the ground-floor. Awesome! Luck was on my side!

I needed a key, yes, but c'mon, I've been living in New York for years, and I had my fair share of losing keys and having to retrieve stuff from ex-boyfriends' homes. So, obviously I knew how to pick a simple lock.

I ran to the elevator – barefoot, 'cause my heels would give me away in seconds – and tried not to laugh when I saw Mr. Rubik fuming at Harmony's long conversation about some info the City Hall – from where she was calling – needed to know. I texted her a thanks and a wink as I rode the elevator.

When I got to the big white door of 8B, I pressed my ear to the shiny door and heard nothing, total silence. Oh, God, I only hoped he didn't kill himself or anything...

I kneeled in front of the door and eyed the metal lock. It was quite simple, standard, so to speak. I knew I had to have some paper clips or bobby pins, somewhere inside my purse. Confirmed, I had a bunch of clips. With a huge grin – and a soft clicking noise after lots of groans and curses – I finally opened the door.

I immediately felt my boss' perfume, his dark sandalwood scent. I couldn't believe he had good taste about that, since he had terrible taste about everything else!

I could almost guess what his home looked like – I mean when you deal with a repressed thirty-three year old single man with lots of weird habits. I had no idea how wrong I was, as I opened the door and walked inside. The entrance was simple; beige walls, a big mirror with copper details and a small sideboard where his keys and phone were. There was a beautiful painting with a nice New York view.

I followed the corridor, turned left and gasped. It was nothing like I imagined it; sure, there were many paintings from famous artists and bibelots here and there, but the red stone walls, high ceiling and tall windows were nothing like I expected it to be.

There were white flowers in a vase by the glass coffee table, and you couldn't see one atom of dust – that was expected, he was as clean as a French maid. The tall porcelain lamps here and there gave it a certain family room feel to it. The only thing lacking were some family pictures, he had none that I could see. There was a black piano over one of the rugs, right at the red brick wall, opposite the fireplace and its beige wall.

"No TV, what a surprise..." I said to myself, taking off my shoes and letting them fall by the rug at the head of the living room; I knew he would freak out if I walked in his pristine apartment with my dirty shoes.

He had to have a bedroom – contrary to my earlier beliefs of him being a vampire villain –, and if he was human, he might just be in bed depressing. Although, Mr. von Hauser being who he was, he could be working or reading some intellectual book in his office – he had an office in the apartment, surely.

"What are you- Miss McAllister?!"

I screamed as a tall man with a baseball bat in his hands jumped in front of me from the arch that led to the kitchen.

"Holy-" I grunted, squinting at my boss "You almost killed me!"

"Yes, I did." He tossed, setting the bat to the couch next to me "I thought you were a thief, or worse, a reporter."

"And you would whack a reporter with that?" I frowned, eyeing the wooden bat.

"Today I would." He grunted, making a face towards the bat too "What on earth are you doing here, Miss McAllister? I thought you were home, in Oklahoma or whatever."

"It's Tennessee. And I just got back." I gestured for him to follow me to the kitchen "I brought you breakfast 'cause I suspect you haven't eaten properly this past two days."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you for your concern" I heard him hiss as I planted the white bag over the black kitchen island.

"If you think I would believe that blunt lie, you're not very smart yourself. Now seat and eat; I brought the usual."

He squinted at me and mumbled something I didn't quite catch, but took his seat in one of the two bar stools.

"As you eat, I'm gonna scream at you." I assured him, clearing my throat as he frowned "What on earth were you not thinking to jump into a press conference and didn't even warn me?! Are you nuts or plain stupid?! You're darn tootin' you made a fool of yourself, and I wish you're happy, now! What stupid idea was that?!" He rolled his eyes "And don't you make eyes at me, boy!"

He choked on his roll and I patted his back.

"Drink your latte." I grunted, picking up the white paper cup and thrusting it to his face "I'm your secretary, damn it! You should tell me everything, especially when you're going to embarrass yourself in front of millions of viewers!"

"You're my secretary, not my publicist" He snapped, not bothering to look up.

"Since you have no publicist, I'll be both secretary and publicist."

"I have the company's publicist, thank you for the offer."

"Oh? Does he/she serve both you and your sweet, sweet uncle?" I grunted, a hand to my waist, like when I was scolding my nieces.

"You're being insolent, Miss McAllister" This time his eyes stared coldly at me through the black glasses he was wearing.

"About darn time, then." I hissed, and then sighed and took the other seat "Look, this all comes down to one thing: trust. I'm your secretary, I'm your assistant too, and right now, I'll be your publicist, your agent and even your nanny if I have to." He gave me a sour look "As long as you act like a five year old. I'm very sorry, Mr. von Hauser, but I can't just let you walk before you crawl."

"I don't get half the things you say, most of the time" He mumbled, frowning.

"That's just 'cause you're bowed up, half the time."

"I'm what?"

"Bowed up." I sighed, and smiled "In a bad mood."

"Ah." He shrugged "So what do you care that I embarrassed myself, my family and my company in national TV? I won't fire you, if that's what you're afraid of."

Crap... Was that the image I was projecting? That all I cared about was keeping my job, my own security? Yep... probably it was...

Time to turn around from Loser Road and get into Opportunity Highway!

Sorry, that was stupid...

"Ok. Then I'll apologize for making you feel like I just care about myself." I sighed, my hands up in the air "It's just that you don't let me help you. You push everyone away! How d'you expect me to do my job, if you don't even tell me what you want?!"

"Miss McAllister, this isn't an afternoon soap opera..." He moaned, like he was in pain about the conversation.

"Mr. von Hauser" He looked up at me "I know you have some sort of... OCD."

"Damn it, Piet..."

"No." I gasped, and he stared, confused, at me "He didn't say anything. Can't you believe I figured it out by myself? Do I look that stupid?!"

"There's no way for me to answer that question and still live."

I pressed my lips together and didn't dare smile.

"Fair enough. You had a panic attack in front of me, remember? About the Pandora meeting?"

"And whose fault was that?" He grunted, one brow up.

"We're not here to blame anyone; but if we were, it wasn't my fault."

"Yes it was, Miss McAllister."

"No, it wasn't. You're the one with the compulsive disorder problem."

"And you're the secretary who forgot to warn me about a meeting" He finished, crossing his arms over his gray tee, all proud of himself.

"Fine, let's just agree to disagree. What matters is" I kept talking when he started to retort "I know you have a disorder and it's fine, but I need you to tell me that. I need to know what's not aloud, 'cause you can't blame me when I do something you don't like, if I have no idea about your... issues."

"My issues? Is that what you call it?" He gave a hard laugh.

"Don't get all cynical on me." I tossed, squinting at him "I came here to help you, have a little respect."

He sighed, rolled his eyes again and then put his hands up.

"Fine. I'm... sorry, or whatever, for keeping my private business from you."

"I'm your secretary and assistant and-"

"I got it already."

"What I mean is, I work for you, and I won't gossip about your private biz, if that's what you're afraid of."

"People tend to open their mouths, Miss McAllister" He mumbled, playing with the fruit in the plastic bowl.

"Well, I can keep a secret like no one else. Really!" I assured, after his doubtful look "Here's what I know about you so far and haven't told anyone."

Well, except for Harm, but she was the best at keeping secrets, and that's how I learned to be a grown up and don't babble every ten seconds about other people's business.

"What is that?!" He almost laughed, as I opened my notebook and he saw the 'Julian facts' list.

"Fact number one: hates things out of place; fact number three: has OCD, can't stand a change in his routine, washes his hands about thirty times a day, I've counted. I really did." I added after reading it "Files on the office should be organized by date and then alphabetically. Fact number four-"

"What's fact number two?"

"Hum?"

"Fact number two. You skipped one" He assured me, taking a look, and frowning when I covered the letters.

"It's nothing important."

"Trust, Miss McAllister" He reminded me.

"Huh, fine." I grunted, clearing my throat and reading "Fact number two: he's insane, literally. Fact number four: has agoraphobia and sometimes panic attacks; can't eat in front of other people."

He stood quiet; his eyes stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time, like I was some sort of alien, or something.

"Well... looks like you know enough, already."

"So... you really have OCD?"

"Yes, Miss McAllister, I do." He sighed, pushing his reading glasses up his nose "Look, I- It's not public knowledge."

"Well, duh..." I snorted "Sorry. My lips are sealed, honestly."

"Good." He cleared his throat and got up, leaving the kitchen "Now, I appreciate you coming here, but I'm very busy so-"

"You're busy?" I snorted, following him towards the long hall next to the living room "You're in sweatpants and an old tee – I didn't even know you owned that sort of clothing -, how busy can you really be?"

"I'm working on some late files."

I started to counter back, but then I walked inside his office/library.

"Wow!"

The tall room had big windows as well, and just like I imagined, it was packed with bibelots, books, magazines and all that intellectual stuff. His Chippendale desk had a black laptop on, an old lamp and some files. He was actually working.

"You have a perfectly working office at von Hauser, why are you working here instead?" I grunted, stepping on the fluffy gray carpet and moaning at the great feel if gave my feet.

"Why should I leave home if I have a perfectly working office right here?"

"Because you got humiliated yesterday, and now you're hiding!" I accused, stomping my hand over the desk as I got close to it.

"I'm doing no such thing!" He snorted, looking at me from over his glasses "I'm merely- Why are you barefoot?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but then thought better.

"My feet hurt. Look, if I had made a scene like you did yesterday, I would live enclosure for months. I'm not accusing you of anything, I'm merely trying to help you."

"Noted. Appreciate it. Not interested" He assured me, coldly, starting to type on his laptop.

"Mr. von Hauser, opinions are just like assholes, and some are just louder and smellier than others." Since he gave me a shocked look, I elaborated "What I'm saying is, you shouldn't let other people's opinion dictate what you'll do. You're the CEO for von Hauser Publications, and that's not going to change for a long time."

"Maybe..."

That got me interested. I took one of the seats in front of his desk and frowned.

"What does that supposed to mean?"

He kept fussing in his seat, and said nothing.

"Mr. von Hauser..." I waited until he sighed and stared at me "Why did you give that press conference? It's really unlike you, got me surprised."

"Didn't you hear what happen? No, you wouldn't, you were home... My uncle." He explained as I shook my head "He went on a trip this weekend, to Maine, on his yacht. Just this Friday, someone leaked we're having financial issues and considering of letting some people go."

"Oh..." I frowned "Who would runt to the reporters?"

"There are always snitches, Miss McAllister." He sighed, rubbing his eyes from behind the lenses "Bottom line is, he was having fun with his wife – who got a new pair of breasts, I have to say – while the company is considering major cuts. It's not very public appealing..."

"I see..." I sighed, making a face "Can I be blunt?"

"Why ask for permission, now?"

"I think your uncle is trying to screw you."

"No, really?" He gasped, sarcasm dripping from his pores.

"Cute." I snorted "Is it possible he just wants to make your life as CEO miserable?"

"It's not possible, that's right on the money, Miss McAllister" He assured me, leaning back in his tall chair.

"What a strange family dynamic..." I mumbled and saw him make a side smile "Ok. Let's go then."

He blinked, confused, and stared at my back as I quickened my steps towards the hallway.

"Well, c'mon, I haven't got all day!" I clapped my hands to make him hurry.

"And where are we going, if I may ask?"

"If I tell you, you'll kill me."

"It's usually the other way aro- Miss McAllister!"

I whistled as I snooped around his apartment. There were like three or four bedrooms, which he didn't use, I'm sure. One, although, looked more inhabited.

"Ah ah! Jackpot." I grinned, getting inside and hearing my boss scream after me "Oh, get a grip, will you?!"

I spied around for his small wardrobe, where I'm sure he had the entire brown and gray shirts and pants.

"Jumping jelly beans!" I gasped as I opened a double wooden door in the brick wall; I was sure it was his bathroom, but I was wrong "Will wonders never cease?! You've got a closet?!"

"Yes, I have a closet." He grunted, pulling me back and closing the doors, embarrassed "I'm sure you have more outfits than I do, obviously, so what's the amazement?"

That made me blush. All I had was a small armoire where my clothes were stuffed, a couple of drawers for underwear, and a very old and rusty IKEA hangers that I used to put my coats and dresses; it was very embarrassing. I had clothes around my room like WWIII had sprouted out.

"I don't have a closet, ok?" I muttered, pushing my hair from my shoulders and getting him out of my way to open the World Wonder again "I could live here, really..."

"What do you want?" He followed me, making sure, I knew, I didn't touch anything.

His clothes were millimetricaly set by type – coats, shirts, tees, pants, shoes – and then color. This was the file cabinet back in the office all over again...! There was a small wooden island where I saw many watches and ties aligned. I'm sure his underwear was there too, but I didn't want to give him a heart attack by prying.

"Your wardrobe is as dull as I thought it would be."

"Thanks."

"But there's hope." I assured him, gasping as I saw a terrible brown tweed jacket "What the hell is this?!"

"A jacket."

"No, it isn't! It's a disgrace!" I assured him, taking it off the hanger and tossing it to the floor; I heard him gasp.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

'Crazy Julian' to the rescue.

"I'm saving you from yourself. It's time for a makeover, Mr. von Hauser" I assured him.

"That was my grandfather's" He hissed.

Oh crap...

"Oh..." I swallowed hard "I'm so sor- You're lying." I knew it as soon as I saw his lips turn up as if he'd just won a bet. "You won't stop me this time. I'm here to save you from your fashion crime. Believe me, you'll be someone new once you change your wardrobe."

"You're fired!" He yelled, his hands to his hair like he was losing it.

"No I'm not!" I snorted "Now, wear this." I threw him a pair of black sweatpants, a gray tee and a black hooded cardigan "And running shoes. Call me when you're ready, I'll be taking care of the trash."

"Miss McAllister, you're-"

"Saving your rich ass. Now go" I grunted, pushing him out of the closet.

"I'm not going out" He assured me, tossing the clothes over his large black bed.

"It's Sunday, you need to go out." I tossed, pointing at the windows "It's a beautiful sunny day out there, and you won't stay in your apartment – which, by the way, is so much better than I thought would ever be."

"Well, thank you. And I'm not going; Sunday is the Lord's day."

"You're not a catholic." I snorted, giving him a sour look and tossing the clothes at his face "Get dressed."

He was gonna get the Georgia McAllister Deep Cleansing Treatment, and he was gonna enjoy every second of it, or I would be kicking his rich butt!