The First Assistant by Clare Naylor, Mimi Hare

and passport. To my great disappointment the woman didn’t even bat an eyelid. She smiled politely as she looked at my picture. Either I wasn’t looking as young as I thought I did or Lara had dressed me so artfully that I looked like I belonged. I was more inclined to go with the latter. When she saw my name on the passport, she breathed an audible sigh of relief.
    “Miss Miller. Thank God you’re here.” I broke into an instant sweat as anxiety flooded my body.
    “Did something happen to my family? Is Luke okay? Did I forget to turn off the gas at the house?” I just knew this wasn’t going to be a smooth ride. The checkin lady looked baffled for a brief second.
    “As far as I know your family is alive and well. You’re Emerald Everhart’s assistant, right?” she asked.
    I nodded dumbly.
    “Well she’s waiting for you in the first class lounge. She’s been rather . . .” The woman trailed off nervously. “Let me just check you in quickly. ” Now that didn’t sound good. My anxiety worsened when she tapped a colleague on the shoulder and they did one of those whisper-stare-whisper things. I felt like I had a wart on the tip of my nose.
    Her colleague took my ticket and passport.
    “Just come with me, Miss Miller. I’ll escort you to Miss Everhart. It’ll be quicker.” He picked up my carry-on and began sprinting toward the gate. I had no choice but to follow since he had my passport, wallet, and laptop.
    “Excuse me, is there a problem with Emerald?” I called out as I jogged after him.
    He stopped briefly and looked at me closely. “You’re not her usual assistant, are you?”
    “No. I’m new,” I puffed.
    He let out a nervous laugh, then carried on with his jog, practically knocking people out of the way like a prize running back. He’d hurry up to whomever he was trying to circumvent and I’d hear Emerald’s name and then like a flash I was through. We made it to the American Airlines lounge, when I suddenly got very cold feet. He opened the door and held it open expectantly. But I was rooted to the ground. This was my very last chance to escape.
    “Ms. Miller, you really have to go in.” He looked as if he was on the verge of tears. And before I could turn tail and flee, I was grabbed by another concerned representative and dragged through the door. I thought to myself then and there that I really needed to be a bit more proactive with my life. I was in this situation because I’d allowed myself to be traded for a car.
    The AA representative who was pulling me by the arm was dressed in an official flame-retardant suit. “Miss Miller. Thank God you’ve arrived. I’m Carol Powers, head of AA customer relations. This is a potential PR nightmare. We do everything in our power to guarantee the privacy of our customers, but there is just no way of being absolutely certain that a member of the press isn’t in our midst.” All the while she was dragging me closer to what sounded like an injured hyena.
    “What is that noise?” I asked nervously. But as I rounded the corner, I discovered the answer for myself.
    Emerald was standing on the bar in her Manolos and micro mini in the middle of performing a strip tease for twenty or so transfixed businessmen. “Is she drunk?” I stammered. Hoping—actually praying—that this was the case, because if this was her sober, God forbid she cracked a
    Corona.
    Carol Powers swallowed hard as Emerald launched into a rather off-key rendition of “It’s Raining Men.” I hoped for all of our sakes that she didn’t have any repressed rock star dreams.
    “Yes. I believe she had a few drinks. And I know she’s only nineteen. And we do have a strict twenty-one-only policy at the airline. And I’ve already reprimanded our bartender. But you see she was quite insistent and he was very starstruck and.. .”
    “Duck!” I yelled and hit the ground as a shoe came sailing across the room in our direction. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you