"What?" Trunks' voice nearly cracked with that question. His mother merely folded her arms and looked him square in the eye.
"I've interviewed tons of applicants," she continued, "and think I've found the perfect one. She'll organize the chaos that is your life and take a load off of my shoulders—yours too if you'll let her." She seemed to add the last bit with a dose of sarcasm.
"I don't need a personal secretary." Trunks responded flatly, trying to continue his work with cool indifference.
"Too late, I've hired you."
"Then you can release her—"
"Trunks!"
"Or you can hire her for yourself." He met his mother's stare for several moments before he had to look away. He knew she'd win this argument, but he didn't dare admit it to himself yet.
"She's here, so straighten your shirt and jacket."
"Mom!"
"What?" She snapped. He gulped and straightened his shirt. "Now she's coming in, she will be your new personal secretary, and you better put up with it and let her do her job." She gave him a sharp nod before opening the door.
She had a navy blue suit on, her long dark hair in a braid over one shoulder, and she held a briefcase before herself. She had massive onyx eyes, pale lips, and thick and defined brows.
Bulma ushered her in, shoving her towards Trunks to introduce herself. He stood behind his desk and leaned over to shake her hand.
"I'm Trunks Briefs," He offered, and she took his hand.
"Pan Son." They exchanged smiles. "I believe I am going to be your new personal secretary?"