My Concern? : Boss!SpainxAssistant!Reader

Thirty three.

Thirty two.

Thirty one…



Thirty minutes until today’s meeting ends. Coughing and sneezing, you waited at the nearby cafeteria with a cup of hot chocolate. Watery eyes, congested nose and tablet screen radiation don’t make a good combination after all.

Your troublesome cousin Mathias is the one to blame. The other night, when you were supposed to be having a good night’s sleep, you were compelled to drag him home after he was caught up in a petty bar fight. It was rather a stormy night and his friends— Lukas above all— wouldn’t open their doors for him.

Instead of waiting for hours, you could’ve stayed home and put your feet up. But no, of course you wouldn’t do that. Not when there are pressing matters that needed to be settled. You don’t want your boss thinking that you’re an incompetent assistant. He wasn’t raising your salary for nothing.

You rose from your seat upon the opening of the meeting room doors.

“We’ll resume after ten minutes,” said one of the executive directors.

Forest-green eyes scrutinized the hallway as their owner came to light.

“Is there anything that you need, Mr. Carriedo?”

The Spaniard flashed a smile— his lady-killer one— and said, “None. Thank you, __________.”

Mr. Antonio Fernández-Carriedo is the kind of person who never fails to greet people with a cordial smile and wish them a good day. Even with so many responsibilities at such a young age, stress is far from sculpting his face.

He had been in a desperate need for a secretary after an Italian quitted him. By the time you submitted an application, he hired you without delay, without asking too many questions. You could never forget how his face brightened up like the summer sky at high noon and how warm his hands felt against yours as he called you his angel.




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“And everything has to be set for next month,” Mr. Carriedo continued referring to the calendar of activities in his iPad. Another meeting has been concluded; time to warm up with next month’s affairs.

You reached for your phone to keep up with his scheduled scheme. Wait a minute. Why was he carrying your things?

“As you know, Mr. Beilschmidt expects a report regarding the credit deal we made with his company last year,” he added. “I need the written report and the income statement in my desk within the week.”

“Yes, sir.”

He recited the rundown of next month’s timetable as you made your way down the parking lot but you were quite preoccupied. You’ve been having difficulty breathing and the obnoxious wind tingled underneath your woolen fabrics.

“Got it,” you said through chattering teeth and made a mental note of everything you took hold of. You also half-wished he would hand your things back. “Do you have any more concerns?”

That question got him. Ever since the day you stepped into his office, Antonio knew he made the right choice. He would never tell you as the crow flies, but he admires you for your impeccable effort. You were always with him in times of need and he can never be thankful enough for that. There are times that you worry him for burning the candle at both ends.

“My concern?” he reiterated, locking his glimmering emeralds with your (e/c).

A moment of breathless silence to look into the beautiful soul of his.


“Actually, I’m concerned about you.”


He took his coat off and slipped it over your shoulders, the faint scent of his perfume escorting you back to reality. You glanced at him as if he just landed from the outer space. “I-I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ll sink into the ground any second.” Without warning, he enveloped you into his arms and together you marched through the stone-cold pavements.  

You scoffed, sending a little bank of cloud into the air.

He chuckled in response. You would rather freeze to death than to admit how much he was making you melt at the moment. The last time you checked, Antonio Fernández-Carriedo refers to a godly boss with the qualities of being kindhearted, affectionate, funny and smexy all at the same time.

“Do me a favor: get some rest,” he said.

“But how about—"

“I’ll take care of them while you’re on leave.”

You opened your mouth to finish your argument but he gave you that look which reminded you that you should know better than going against him. You've been with him long enough to realize that one does not simply win against the Spanish innuendos. Nope.

Antonio opened the door to the passenger's seat.

“C’mon I’ll drive you home.”

You studied his face now crammed with anxiety. He wasn't acting as your boss anymore. He was acting as someone else.