Despite having worked under Lelah Rivka for almost a full year, Olivia Broderick had never really gotten used to the more up-market end of Rhy'Din at large, and since moving in with Johnny and temping just about everywhere in the city just to make ends meet, she wasn't exactly known for her expensive tastes. Which was why, as she ventured to inquire with the maitre'd at La Maison Verte as to whether or not her lunch companion had arrived yet, she was desperately hoping that Jonathan Granger was not expecting her to eat a hearty meal. She had a feeling she might only just be able to afford a glass of tap water in this place without feeling guilty.

Jon had arrived early and was already seated in a quiet corner table where they could talk in private, hopefully without attracting any attention. He was dressed in a dark blue suit that complimented his blue eyes, a white shirt and matching blue tie. His hair had grown since the last time she'd seen him and was curling against his forehead. On his left hand, he wore a gold band signifying his recent marriage to Victoria Marshall. He looked happy, healthy, and relaxed, casually sipping a glass of wine and going over a script while he awaited Olivia's arrival.

Nervous and feeling a little out of her depth, Liv followed the maitre'd to the little out-of-the-way table, offering Jon a shy smile. He looked good, better than he had at the close of 21twelve. She assumed that meant being married agreed with him, although she wasn't sure if she had her information correct there. Gossip columns weren't fantastic at providing accurate news. "Um, Mr Granger?" she ventured, standing awkwardly beside the table, her knuckles almost white as she gripped the strap of her bag. "I'm sorry if I'm late."

He glanced up from the script, a friendly smile on his face when he recognized her, moving to his feet and offering her a hand. "Miss Broderick. It's nice to see you again." He greeted her politely and warmly, ever the gentleman.

The hand that gripped his was confident, decidedly rougher than it had been a few months before. She'd had many different jobs since she'd last even seen Jon Granger, and all of them had left some imprint on her, not least of which were the callouses from the dog-walking last week. "And you," she replied to the polite greeting, forcing herself not to try and fold inward too soon. "Congratulations on your marriage, and to Victoria, too. Oh, and please, call me Liv. I don't answer very well to Miss Broderick."

His fingers wrapped around hers and gave her hand a polite squeeze before letting go, his smile widening with a flash of dimples that had earned him a place on countless magazine covers. "Thanks. We're very happy." He waved a hand to the chair across from him. "Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable." He waved a hand to the waiter as he retook his own seat. "Another glass of wine for the lady, please, and two menus," he told the waiter, who nodded his head and hurried away to fulfill Jon's wishes.

The waiter was gone before Liv could object, manners warring with practicality and ultimately silencing her. She offered up a silent apology to Johnny for the amount of money she seemed about to pay for a meal, lowering herself to sit down, finally relinquishing her bag to the floor by her feet. "Thank you," she nodded to Jon, curious eyes flickering about the restaurant for a moment before returning to the man sitting opposite her. "I'm not very used to places like this."

"You may have to get used to it if you accept my offer," he smiled, a teasing gleam in his blue eyes. He was definitely a very different man from the one who she had seen on set during the filming of Crowes. That Jon had been troubled, moody, quiet, keeping mostly to himself in his trailer when he wasn't busy filming. This Jon was obviously a changed man, happier than he had been in a very long time. After a moment, the waiter returned to pour Liv a glass of white wine, leaving the carafe on the table, along with two lunch menus. "You're probably wondering why I asked you here."

Offering another nervous smile to the waiter as he left them alone once again, Liv's fingers picked at the menu in front of her as her soft eyes rose to meet Jon's teasing gaze. "I am more than a little curious, I freely admit," she confessed with a little nod. "It may come as a surprise to you but famous actors aren't lining up to invite me out to lunch." And even if they were, most of them would have no luck. The only reason she'd agreed to this was because she actually knew Jon a little bit.

Jon closed the cover of the script he'd been reading and set it aside, one arm resting casually against the table, an amused smile on his face. "Maybe they should be," he teased. He didn't even flinch when she mentioned the word "famous", as if it was something he was either accustomed to or too modest to draw attention to or both. "I'll come straight to the point. I need a personal assistant, and you need a job." At least, he assumed she needed a job, since the studio had folded and Lelah had left Rhydin, leaving more than a few people unemployed.

One thing Liv was good at was the job Lelah had hired her to do. Presented with this straightforward offer, she felt her lips quirk into a smile, one brow rising. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, only a little concerned that her penny-pinching was easy to spot. "Mr Granger, why would you ask me" There are hundreds of people better qualified to serve as your assistant, after all. It isn't that I don't appreciate the offer, of course I do, I just ....I'm reluctant to go back into an area where my work hours aren't clearly defined. My time isn't just my own anymore, and I'd like to keep it that way." Which was a roundabout way of saying she wasn't about to give up private time with her boyfriend just because her employer wanted her easy to contact at all hours of the day or night.

"Liv, I'm asking you to be my assistant, not my slave. I have a personal life, so do you. I respect that. I don't expect you to be on call twenty-four to seven. The hours are flexible, and I'm willing to pay you a generous salary with benefits." He didn't say what those benefits included, but they were most likely more generous than what she was going to get from anyone else. He leaned back and sighed, a small frown forming. "The truth is I'm buried in paperwork. I don't have time to read mail, much less answer it. I need someone who can get things in order and keep them in order. I'm not going to ask you to do anything that's beneath you. I just don't have time to manage it all anymore. I need someone I can trust," he added. "Lelah thought you were the best thing since sliced bread. I know how hard Lelah can be to please, so that's saying a lot. You don't have to say yes today, but I wish you'd consider it. I really don't want to have to put an ad in the paper again."

"Um, what on earth makes you think I'm going to say no, Mr Granger?" Liv couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her lips, surprised that he thought she'd need time. He was offering her a job she knew how to do, and knew she did well, and had already set down what it was he needed the most help with. "I appreciate that you have a lot of demands on your time, and with a wife and possibly a child on the way, those demands are going to become more stringent. I am quite capable of organising your paperwork. I'll organise you, if you want me to." Hearing him repeat something said about her by Lelah had brought her confidence to the fore, pleased that she had at least satisfied her friend and former employer. "If you have no objection to my sorting through all your mail, personal and professional, you can have it all diverted to my address."

He visibly relaxed, smiling again when she seemed to accept his offer, beaming with happiness when she mentioned Vicki and their child that was on the way. "Not possibly. She's due sometime in February," he told her, just about bursting with pride and joy. He chuckled at the suggestion that she organize him. "I'm not sure that's necessary. Vicki takes pretty good care of me. There's a mountain of mail to go through. It just keeps piling up. Fan letters, scripts, advertising offers, that's just for starters. We try to keep up, but we just don't have time. You can hire help if you need to. I don't expect you to spend all your time sorting mail."

The frown on his face was answer enough. "No, nothing. I don't know what happened. Everything seemed to be going well. Hell, she was even up for an Oscar." He fanned his napkin before laying it on his lap. "This business is so fickle. One day you're their darling, the next everyone hates you." The thought of that seemed to taint his mood a little, though she didn't know him the way Vicki did. "The money is in movies, but fame is fleeting. Here today, gone tomorrow. I prefer theater. There's nothing like the instant gratification of applause."

"Isn'tThe Woman In Black more about getting people to scream than applaud?" Liv asked curiously, just enough humor in her quizzical expression to prove that she wasn't the lifeless mouse she pretended to be. It was just as well Jon had never met her twin; Lucy would probably be a little too much for him to handle now he was used to Liv.

"You know right away if they love you or hate you, and you make adjustments. With movies, once it's up there on the silver screen, it's there forever, good or bad. The theater is more forgiving." He smiled at her question. "If I can get someone to scream, that's as good as applause."

"I suppose it must be," she mused thoughtfully. "I'd never really thought about it like that." Never mind that she had never been to the theatre herself, Liv was prepared to pretend that she knew what she was talking about when conversing with her new boss. "When do you need me to start working for you, Mr Granger?"

"You should come see it. Bring your boyfriend. I can get you front row seats. Just don't let him burn the place down. 'Taya would kill me." He smirked, his mood lightening again. "As far as I'm concerned, you're on the clock as of..." He glanced at his watch. "Now. And stop calling me Mr. Granger. It makes me sound old and I'm not much older than you are. It's Jon."

"Well, that's just as well - I got myself fired this morning," she confessed with a hint toward her dry humor, one shoulder rising and falling in dismissal of this fact. Sorting lemons in a factory wasn't exactly her favorite thing to do, anyway. "It isn't exactly right that you should be paying me when I've yet to start working, Mr - Jon," she corrected herself awkwardly. "Wouldn't it be better to say Monday morning?"

He shrugged as he picked up his sandwich, obviously not the kind of "boss" who was going to worry too much about how many hours she put in so long as she did her job. "Monday works. What did you do to get yourself fired?" he asked, curiously as he bit into his sandwich.

She shrugged again, folding green leaf onto a fork to begin eating. "I informed the foreman of the factory where I was working that I wasn't going to spend another eight hours bent over a conveyor belt looking for perfect lemons," she told him. "He told me that's what I was getting paid for, and I told him he could pay my chiropractor's bill then. Oddly enough, he then told me to get out."

Jon chuckled, amused. "Isn't that a little contradictory' A perfect lemon' So, what did they make" Perfect lemonade?" He smiled as he took another bite of his sandwich, thoroughly enjoying the red meat without the guilt of Vicki watching him eat it.

"Oh, no, just a fruit packing factory," Liv told him, shaking her head. "But the best lemons go to the people who are prepared to pay the most for them. The woman I was working with yesterday has been doing it so long, she physically can't stand upright any more." She snorted lightly, pausing to take a sip of her wine, feeling guilty for enjoying one of the better meals she'd ever had without Johnny to share the experience.

Jon frowned, lowering the sandwich, suddenly feeling guilty for his own success. "That's horrible," he said. "Can't she retire?" He knew there were people who were far worse off than he was, but he rarely if ever ran into them. He'd tried to give something back by donating his time and money to various charities, but it never seemed to be enough.

"At forty-three with two teenagers rapidly approaching college age, she can't afford to," his new P.A. explained patiently, aware with that one question that her boss was startlingly sheltered from the hardships most people dealt with every day. "It's a steady job and she can't risk being unemployed. The pay might not be great, but she gets by on it and can provide for her kids. That's all that matters."

"I see," he mused. It wasn't so much that he was sheltered by it, though he was to a certain degree, it was that he felt helpless to do anything about it, to help those less fortunate than himself. He set his sandwich down, suddenly not feeling all that hungry. "One of the things I want you to look once you get the paperwork under control is charities. I want to give something back. I want to make a difference. What's the point of having a lot of money if you can't do something meaningful with it?"

"There are so many charities, you need to make a decision about what area you want to donate to," Liv warned him. "Children and animals tend to get the best press, but the elderly, the poor, the homeless, people with specific disabilities or mental illness ....the list is endless. But it does all depend on what you want your money to be used for."

He shook his head as she started to tick off the list. "I don't care about the press. I'm not doing this to make myself look good. I've been lucky and I just want to help people who need help. I've been thinking about a scholarship fund, but I don't know. Can you do a little research' Find out where there's the most need?"

"Of course," she agreed with a nod. "Here in Rhy'Din, or elsewhere" I understand you have a presence on one of the Earths as well."

"Rhy'Din for now. We can look at Earth later." After all, they were paying him an obscene amount of money to star in the Fifty Shades trilogy. It seemed only fair that he give a percentage of that back somehow. But Rhy'Din was home, and he wanted to start there.

Liv nodded, filing all this away in the memory Lelah had been so impressed with when she'd first picked a shy A.D. out of the crowd to promote her. "That I can do. It'll probably take a few weeks, I don't like not to be thorough. If you have a deadline by which you want that information, please tell me - I will keep to it."

"There's no rush. Take your time. Don't overdo it, Liv. I don't expect you to work twenty-four to seven. I don't want you to get burned out. You can pick your own hours, for the most part. I don't need you to follow me around and be my go-fer. I just need someone to handle the things I don't have time for."

"I hate to ask, but ..." She hesitated, not wanting to seem greedy, but needing to know if she needed to get a second job to make ends meet, even with accommodation thrown into the deal. "What salary have you decided on?" She winced, intensely disliking the sound of the question on her own tongue.

"How much was Lelah paying you?" he asked, equally not wanting to sound nosy, but he figured he should pay her at least what Lelah was paying her if not more.