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She Has a Degree in Accounting Too, You Know

Pepper Potts always told people that she was hired as Tony’s personal secretary because his last one had quit, he needed a new one, and she was there. The truth, however, is that Tony had known she was qualified from the get-go.

He noticed ALL of his employees. Didn’t matter if it was a member of the board or the janitor who works nights on Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays. Tony notices things. It’s basically the only thing that’s keeping him from going off the deep end. He hates dealing with business. He’s always preferred inventions to talking to people about things like stock and commercials and how his public image will affect the sales. (The board acts like him going out with a model is going to bring stock points down or whatever. It’s not going to.)

Tony notices Virginia Potts six months before he hires her and the day that she started working for the department she was supposed to be in. She was supposed to work as a manager of sorts for accounting, and from what Tony heard from his good friend Tanya down there, Virginia was scarily good at what she did. Ms. Potts didn’t fuck around with anyone, never accepted less than perfection, but was also incredibly understanding of financial situations and compromise. Tony nodded and carried on with his invention. He thought the board would really like The Jericho. He, of course, named it. The irony was fitting.

Virginia is known for zero tolerance. Men call her various names along the line of “Frigid Bitch,” “Slut,” and “Prude.” Most of these terms contradicted each other, and Tony leveled the “we’re-just-talking” insults with a steady gaze. “She’s not a slut or a prude because she does her job better than you can,” he says flippantly. “Speaking of which, Peterson! Your numbers have down for two months. I’m having you step down, Alejandres is taking your spot.” Peterson glowers, but Tony honestly can’t bring himself to give a shit.

Virginia Potts unflinchingly deals with businessmen who call her things like “darling,” sweetheart,” or “girly.” She kindly tells them that they are not allowed to refer to her as such. Her name is Ms. Potts, not any iteration. They grumble as she grins and tears their “deals” apart with a smile as sharp as a shark’s tooth. Her hair is never out of place as she shuts down employees who are being rude. Tony lets each one go with a talk about workplace discrimination under their belts. Howard and Obie may have tolerated it, but Tony will not.

Virginia Potts points out an accounting mistake that would have cost the company around two million dollars. The accounting person insists that they have it right, and if she’s so sure that the person with a degree in their field is wrong, then they can take it up with Tony Stark Himself. Virginia looks over the sheet one more time.

“I have a degree in accounting too,” she primly informs him. “But of course, Mr. Stark is the expert of his own company. I’ll set up an appointment.”

She meets him a week later in his office when he’s trying to make a leaning tower of cantaloupe squares. She’s wearing her finest pencil skirt and blazer, heels tall enough to kill a man, and levels him with an unimpressed gaze.

“Mr. Stark. I’m here to discuss an accounting mistake.” Tony’s fruit tower is knocked down as he glances at the paper.

“Who was about to cost the company two million dollars because they refused to recheck their math?”

“Tom Martin.”

“Have someone tell him he needs to clear his desk by Monday. That’s unacceptable.” She raises her eyebrow at him.

“I’m not your messenger, Mr. Stark.” He smiles for a split-second. If she accepted the job proposition, then she would be great at it.

“Would you like to be? I’m in the market for a new personal assistant.”

“Did you get bored with the other one?” Virginia asks. She seems to realize her remark was a hair too unprofessional, but doesn’t relent. Tony laughs.

“You have a little bit of a kick to you, don’t you?” Tony asks. “I’m calling you Pepper. Would you like to be a personal assistant? I promise you that you, at least, won’t be bored.” She’s apprehensive.

“Don’t call me Pepper. What do I do?”

“I’m calling you Pepper. You do a lot of things. Drag me to board meetings, help me be a regular person to the outside world, and get a bump in pay.”

“Fine.”

Pepper Potts is…scary. She’s unafraid of calling Tony out on his bullshit behavior. She’s the drive behind his evolving fashion sense. (”You have money to buy a tailored suit that fits,” she says. “You’re getting one. I booked the appointment for one. If you don’t go, I’ll drag you there by the ear.”) She always looks put together and almost never has a hair out of place unless she gets to the workshop and manhandles him out from under a car.

“That’s a Tin Lizzy!” Tony hisses. “You can’t touch her like that! She’s a classic!”

“You’re about to get a classic, public dressing down by me if you don’t move and get dressed for the board meeting,” she hisses right back. “I packed you a lunch. Go.” Tony grumbles. She packed a goddamn Lunchable with a smiley face Post-It that says “since you’re being such a little bitch :)”

Tony kind of loves her.

She understands a lot more about business than even Tony gave her credit. Sometimes, she’ll even contribute ideas. Pepper always nervously laughs and says she could never be in such a high position of power.

Tony feigns laziness and has her decide an executive decision.

It’s a start.

So when Pepper laughs with one of her business friends about how Tony impulse-hired her on the spot because his last one had quit, Tony always grins.

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blvk-rxse

5 years ago

Make that 1995-2001