New Assistant.

Right, because he was the sort of person who had one of those now, wasn't he? Responsible. Corporate. That was the reality that he needed to embrace, and embody. It didn't matter that Publisher of the Gotham Globe was about as prestigious as Trophy Wife: both of them needed to look the part, needed to know how to walk the walk and talk the talk. It was easier said than done. In Oliver's experience, a personal assistant's primary responsibility was to be flirted with and potentially seduced by youthful trust fund brats - something that Oliver hadn't been for a long time. If his job was meaningless, then what purpose did an assistant actually serve? What exactly was it that Queen Consolidated expected him to need assisting with?

He fought the urge to frown, as he considered that name. Garrick. As in Jason Garrick, Oliver presumed; given his own familial connection to the Board, there was no reason to suspect otherwise. Head of Corporate Compliance, a position as mysterious and ambiguous as Oliver's own, as far as his understanding went. He wondered what agendas were at play here: coincidence, or nepotism, or something more considered and purposeful, like Oliver's own motivations? Was she here to keep tabs on him? To ensure his compliance on her father's behalf, should it be required? Was she an innocent pawn in a larger game, an excuse to visit, to scrutinise Oliver and his workspace in different ways? Or was the reason more benevolent, an opportunity embraced for an inoffensive first step into the corporate world, or kindred spirit for Oliver's benefit? There were too many possibilities, too many potential targets and no clear line of sight. Now wasn't the time for a shot in the dark: now was the time to watch, and wait, and hope for a better opportunity to draw the right kind of conclusion.

"Jesse Garrick," he repeated, reinforcing his smile, and reinforcing the name in his mind. His brow flickered into a slight frown, however, and he allowed the smile to falter. "I'll be honest with you, Jesse: I'm not great with names. First names I can cope with, but surnames? Can't remember them, and maybe it's the private school alumnus in me talking, but I'm not a big fan of them either. Something about the way teachers and other students use them to talk down to you, especially when that name carries a special kind of weight like mine."

Or yours, a momentary pause implied. He offered a shrug. "Long story short, Jesse is all I can commit to remembering without there being a helpful reminder or a name badge involved. And, fair is fair, that probably means you should call me Oliver."

He glanced across at the edia specialist. "That goes for you too, Ray."