Tentatively, I open the door and peer into my newly appointed office. Almost everything was made of glass, or a matt silver metal. I take a deep breath, and stride into the room. No one was around yet, as I made myself come in an hour early, in an attempt to try and get myself organized.

After storing my files in the bookshelves, setting up my laptop, and placing a framed photo of my nephew on the shelf behind me, I sat down. There's an envelope placed directly in front of me, on the centre of the desk. It looks so precisely placed, that I wonder whether someone measured it to get it in the exact spot.

Inside the envelope, I find my scheduled timetable for the day. Typed into the first slot is; Anthony "Tony" Stark. Born toHoward Anthony StarkandMaria Collins Carbonell Stark, owners of the prominent US firm, Stark Industries... Blah blah blah... At the age of 15 Tony entered the undergraduate electrical engineering program at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), and graduated with two master's degrees by age 19. Tony went to work for Stark Industries.. blah... At the age of 21, Tony inheritedStark Enterpriseswhen his parents were killed in a car accident secretly orchestrated by rival corporation Republic Oil... Currently cohabiting with one Virginia "Pepper" Potts, his executive assistant in Stark Industries...

And of course, I knew all about his personal life from Pepper. I had an awful premonition this wasn't going to go well. Billionaire playboys aren't usually partial to confessing their darkest secrets. Except, perhaps, to prostitutes.

An hour and three cups of coffee later, Tony Stark entered my office. His arms were folded, his expression defiant, and I was betting he'd been threatened at gunpoint to come here.

"Please, Tony- may I call you Tony? - take a seat." I tried to keep my voice as confidant, and as pleasant as possible. The last thing I wanted to do was let him know how nervous I was, as that'd give him fuel to attack.

"Well, Tony is my name, so I'd be surprised if you were to call me anything else.." He shrugged, and sat in the chair opposite me.

"I'm Valerie Keyes. I'll be working with you over the coming months." I smiled.

"Yeah sure, whatever you say, Rusty," I raised my eyebrow at the quip about my hair. "Listen, there's gonna have to be some ground rules here. One- under no circumstances, are you to utter the phrase 'And how did that make you feel?' Two- I refuse to partake in any 'team building' exercises. And three- Just, don't expect me to do any of this, touchy-feely stuff. M'kay?"

I tried to keep my expression neutral. "Got it. Would you like some coffee?" I gestured to the coffee machine.

"Got anything stronger?"

"Espresso?" I smirked.

He scowled. "That's not quite what I meant."

I laughed. "So, Tony. Tell me about yourself."

"You already know everything."

"I know all the facts, yes. But i'm interested in your personal opinion of yourself."

"An unreliable genius, with more than a dash of raw sex appeal."

I chuckled. "You know, it's often said that your opinion of yourself reflects what you think of humanity. Is that how you perceive the human race? Clever, but unreliable?"

"Veering more towards the 'unreliable'."

"Well, i'm with you on that one. Right!" I took off my glasses and started putting all my notes into the relevant files. "That'll be all for today."

Tony looked amazed. "Wait- that's it?"

I looked up at him. "Yep."

"No talking about my childhood?"

"Nope."

"You're not even going to mention my father?"

"Nope."

"... I don't even get any drugs?"

I laughed. "No drugs today Mr Stark. And im not interested in the slightest about your childhood." I was lying, the key to everyone's psyche lies somewhere in their childhood. But if I stood any chance of getting Tony to open up to me, he had to be able to relate to me. And that meant none of this "touchy feely stuff" as he had so eloquently put it.

"Well... I'll be going then." He got up to leave.

"It was a pleasure meeting you Tony". I said, deliberately re-shuffling papers, and not looking at him. I had to pretend I wasn't interested. I had to get himto come to me. Upon hearing the door close, I sighed, and leant back in my chair.

Well, it could've gone worse. I looked down at my next appointment, and grimaced. The next name said "Natasha Romanov".