I do not own anything.
Virginia Potts hadn't been looking for trouble. In fact, she had been doing the opposite and done what any dedicated, overachieving worker would do—double check her work.
Her recent promotion had encouraged her to double check every last accounting balance, pick up a few extra shifts, and spend more time creating reports. From every punctually crossed 't' to perfecting sentence syntax, Virginia couldn't help but feel like it was her job as an accountant to ensure that every report that passed through her office to be nothing short of perfection.
One could only imagine her surprise when she discovered that a simple equation came up incorrect. An equation that was supposedly performed by Mr. Stark himself.
But after twenty-two double checks, Virginia firmly believed that Mr. Stark- genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist-had made a mistake.
She figured that she had two options:
One- she could ignore it. And deal with a guilty conscious of allowing a flawed accounting paper to travel to another company and potentially risk the entire integrity of Stark Industries.
Two- inform someone of the problem. That someone could only be Tony Stark, as all other personnel were not the ones to make the mistake.
Virginia Potts was a fixer, and right now, the problem that needed fixing involved Mr. Stark.
Mustering up her courage, Virginia grabbed the flawed accounting paper (along with a calculator) and began strutting towards the elevator. Visions of the various ways Mr. Stark could react to the news danced around her head. was at stake. Pushing past the childhood and teenage bullying, achieving a full ride scholarship, making her family proud- all of it had been so she could work at and maybe even own- a fortune 500 company. Of course, all of that would go out the window if she had an angry Tony Stark as a reference.
Why take the risk? Because Virginia Potts was just that kind of person.
Her anxiety rose with the building floors. The journey from floor 5 to 31 was unnerving. Co-workers traveled on and off, all disappearing long before the 31st floor. Upon reaching floor 30, only Virginia and some other man were left.
"Are you getting off here?" he asked, briefly glancing at the still lit 31st floor button.
Virginia shook her head, a small smile on her face. "Go ahead,"
"Good luck." He said, before quickly exiting.
Everyone knew that the only person working on the 31st floor was the same person who owned the entire company.
Virginia walked nervously into the office. The 31st floor set itself apart from the floors below with elegant furniture, white walls, and abnormally bright lights. With the exception of the twenty-something year old sitting behind a large, wooden desk, the floor was professionally perfect.
The woman in question was giggling on the phone, wearing a revealing tank top and a pair of cloth that somehow she believed passed as shorts. Virginia figured that she was at best a rash intern and at worst a paid prostitute.
Regardless, she refused to allow anything to stop her from reaching her boss's boss's boss's boss's boss's boss's boss.
She approached the desk, timidly brushing her flame orange hair out of her eyes. "I'm here to see Mr. Stark."
The woman looked Virginia up and down, obviously passing judgment on Virginia's modest black suit and pencil skirt.
"Tony, there's someone here to see you." She said over the phone.
"Virginia Potts, accounting secretary,"
"Some Pot person…okay I'll send her in."
Virginia passed the desk without a second glance and entered through the glass doors into Tony Stark's office.