The Petty Secretary Vs The Literal Sister Chapter 01

The Petty Secretary Vs The Literal Sister Chapter 01

I’ve always taken everything way too seriously.

Someone would make a joke, and I’d act like we’d just signed paperwork.

Back in elementary school, my desk partner got mad and said if he ever talked to me again, he was a dog.

I dragged him to Westbrook Animal Clinic, booked the best specialist they had, and asked whether a dog could be enrolled in public school.

In middle school, a teacher told us dating would ruin our grades.

That night, I wrote a formal complaint asking the school to investigate the alarming intimacy of kids lending each other erasers.

In college, a senior in my club told me that with a personality like mine, I’d never find a husband.

I stayed up all night printing out his dating standards and plastered them all over the men’s dorm.

I asked if he was holding open auditions for a wife.

After a while, nobody dared to run their mouth around me.

Wherever I went, people suddenly discovered manners.

That lasted right up until my sister got engaged.

Her fiancé, Gavin Thorne, had a female secretary who’d been with him since the startup days.

The two families met for dinner at a private club that night. It was supposed to be the official introduction.

Sloane Merrick lifted her wine glass and smiled at my sister.

“Maren, once you marry Mr. Thorne, you’ve gotta be a little more understanding.”

“He has a sensitive stomach. The only thing he’ll drink at night is the bone broth I make.”

“I even know which button on his shirts rubs against his neck.”

“If you get jealous, I might end up out of a job.”

The room went quiet. Then Gavin’s business partners burst out laughing.

Maren’s face turned pale. She forced a smile.

Gavin lowered his eyes, but there was unmistakable indulgence at the corner of his mouth.

I set down my fork.

“You said you’re his personal secretary. Personal to what extent, exactly?”

I hit record on my phone and placed it in the middle of the table.

“Stomach-level personal? Shirt-button personal? Or bed-level personal? Let’s be specific.”

The laughter died instantly.

Sloane clearly hadn’t expected that. Her smile froze.

“Drew, you’re not actually upset, are you? I was kidding.”

“Everyone knows Gavin and I are strictly professional. You’re taking this way too seriously. You’re making things awkward for him.”

I nodded. “Oh, it was a joke.”

“Then let me make one too.”

I looked at Gavin.

“Give her your stomach.”

—

His expression changed immediately.

“Drew, what the hell are you talking about?”

I looked genuinely confused.

“She said your stomach only accepts the broth she makes.”

“If it’s that loyal to her, why should it stay inside your body?”

“My sister doesn’t make bone broth like hers. What happens if your poor stomach suffers after the wedding? Who’s responsible then?”

The looks on his partners’ faces were priceless.

Under the table, Maren tugged lightly on my sleeve.

She had always been gentle, and people had sheltered her too well.

Someone could break her heart, and she’d still ask if they were doing okay.

That’s why I’d never liked this engagement.

Sloane bit her lip, tears forming instantly.

“I’m sorry. I misspoke.”

“Gavin and I built this company together for seven years.”

“We started in a basement and took it all the way to IPO. We’re just… really close.”

“Maren, please don’t misunderstand. I’ll keep my distance from him from now on.”

The more she spoke, the more pitiful she sounded.

Like Maren and I were rich girls bullying an ordinary employee.

Right on cue, Gavin frowned.

“That’s enough. Sloane apologized.”

“Tonight is about our families meeting. Let’s not ruin the evening over a joke.”

I turned toward him.

“A joke?”

“Great. Then let me tell you one too.”

I pulled a document from my bag and slid it across the table.

“Additional clauses for the prenup.”

“First, after marriage, your personal secretary is not allowed inside your home with Maren.”

“Second, no spending more than fifteen minutes alone with female employees outside working hours.”

“Third, any physical contact justified as brotherhood, partnership, family bonds, or being soulmates will be treated as preliminary marital misconduct.”

Gavin’s face went completely dark.

Tears clung to Sloane’s lashes.

“Drew… what exactly do you think I am?”

I looked at her. “You called yourself a personal secretary.”

“I’m just respecting your professional description.”

“If you don’t like the way it sounds, maybe stop describing yourself that way.”

Nobody laughed after that.

My mother, Celia Callahan, took a slow sip of tea.

My father, Grant Callahan, kept looking at his phone as if none of this concerned him.

But I knew them. If they weren’t stopping me, they weren’t happy either.

Gavin kept his anger tightly leashed.

“I’m marrying Maren, not you. What gives you the right to interfere?”

I smiled. “I have every right. Maren is my sister.”

“When she was little, I made sure nothing could hurt her.”

“Now she’s getting married, and I’m doing the same thing with the guy she picked. Got a problem with that?”

A flicker of darkness passed through his eyes.

I didn’t like that look. It was the face of someone who always ran the room and had just realized one person at the table was playing by entirely different rules.

Dinner ended badly.

On the drive home, Maren spoke in a small voice, “Wasn’t that a little harsh, Drew?”

I glanced at her. “Did what Sloane said make you uncomfortable?”

She stayed quiet. It took her a long time to answer. “Yeah.”

I nodded. “Then remember this. Any joke that makes you uncomfortable isn’t a joke.”