The Assistant (Page 7)

The Assistant(7)
Author: Elle Brace

I opened my copy and scanned over the menu briefly. The writing was in gold and carved against the leather in a cursive font. “Won’t I get in trouble for going over my half an hour break?” I asked as I scanned the seafood section, cringing at the price of the caviar.

“I’m your boss,” Adrian murmured distractedly, preferring to concentrate on the menu. “You’re with me, so of course you’re not going to get into trouble.”

“Oh, right,” I laughed. “Sorry, I forgot for a moment. So is there a particular reason as to why we’re here?” I asked curiously as my eyes landed on a burger in the menu and I grinned. I looked up when Adrian didn’t reply and found him smirking at me.

“I take it you’ve found your order?” he chuckled, and I felt my cheeks warm up and the grin slowly start to slip off my face.

I nodded briefly and looked down at the table, waiting for my blush to fade.

“I want to discuss what you’re wearing to the event on Saturday. There’ll be a lot of press there, so I expect it to be something brand-named. I’ve put $2,000 in your account for you to find something decent. Remember,” he said as he called the waiter over, “its black and white themed.”

My eyes widened in shock. I was still stuck on $2,000. I found myself repeating the figure in a hushed tone, feeling completely gobsmacked.

Adrian’s eyes met my widened ones and he raised an eyebrow. “Is it not enough? That’s fine. I’ll add another-”

“No! No. It’s plenty! That’s practically what I used to earn a year!” I exclaimed in shock. Adrian replied by giving me a confused look before telling his order to the waiter, then fell silent as I did the same.

“Please don’t freak out at everything we talk about from now on. Now, I’ll get someone to do your hair so you’re not late…” He launched into his expectations for the night, and I found myself listening intently, laughing at the occasional jokes he made and scoffing at the inappropriate comments he made about my body as we ate our lunch.

Maybe Adrian Kingston wasn’t such a bad guy, after all.

Chapter Two

“Stop gawking and help me find a dress!” I hissed as I thrust the laptop into Amy’s lap.

My best friend, who was sitting on the sofa crossed-legged, was just as dumbstruck as I was the first time I learned about the generous amount of money Adrian had given me for the event on Saturday.

“Let me get this straight,” she stated, setting the laptop aside as she wriggled into a more comfortable position, “He gave you $2,000 to buy a dress that you’re only going to wear on that one night because he doesn’t want you repeating any outfits, then decided to add another $1,000 so you can buy shoes to match? And he paid for your $140 burger? Why are you not as freaked out as I am about this? Compared to him, I’m like – like – like plankton to a whale!” She finished her statement with flailing arms, then sagged shoulders and a pout.

I raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you calling him fat?”

Amy’s blue orbs widened even further as she grabbed the laptop and rapidly typed something in. After a few seconds, she thrust the laptop in my face. “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M CALLING THIS WALKING SEX SYMBOL FAT?!” she screeched as my eyes landed on a shirtless photo of my Boss on the cover of GQ Magazine. My eyes widened and I closed the tab and grimaced.

“Don’t show me photos of him shirtless,” I grumbled.

Amy smirked as she snatched the laptop back from me. “Oooo! Is someone developing a cruuuuuuush?” she teased, before ducking her head and laughing as she narrowly missed the pillow I threw in her direction.

I glared. “No. I just know how he uses his appeal – that’s all.” I shuddered as I mentally counted how many girls walked into his office this morning. “Honestly Ames, they come parading in like he’s the stem to their flower!” I exclaimed with wide eyes.

Amy gave me a blank look before bursting into a full fit of laughter, once again putting the laptop aside to smack her thigh multiple times and rock backwards and forwards. I frowned. “What? What happened?” I asked in confusion, frowning at her.

“’Stem to their flower’! Em! He does actually have a stem.” She pointed down to her crotch area and winked, “And us lovely women like to refer to our goods as flowers.” She pointed to her crotch area again.

I frowned. “I’ve never heard of that reference before. You need to meet a guy, like right away.” I reached for the laptop and placed it on her lap once again. “Now help me!” I demanded.

She laughed, waving me off. “Relax, I’ve got this. Go make us both a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Sure, marshmallows this time or are you ‘watching your weight’ again?” I laughed, remembering the last time Amy had tried to eat healthy – it didn’t last long – she broke as soon as she saw a chocolate bar in my fridge.

“HA-HA.” Amy glared, trying to fight a smile. “Stuff so much in that I won’t even be able to drink the hot chocolate! And it’s black and white themed, right? And he said he wanted the dress to be brand-named? God, he sure is picky for a man. That doesn’t matter though – he’s still as hot as hell.” Amy laughed, winking in my direction.

I rolled my eyes and ignored her as I lazily strolled into my kitchen and took the ingredients out to make my famous hot chocolate. As I was mixing the milk, I heard Amy gasp from the other room. “EMILY! IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH MONEY LEFT OVER, CAN I PLEASE BUY A DRESS TOO?”

I laughed before answering. “Of course you can, Ames!” I called out. “It’ll be like a personal thank you gift from Adrian himself.” I tipped the mini marshmallows into Amy’s mug before starting on mine.

Amy didn’t reply, and I took it as a sign of satisfaction before my best friend’s body came stumbling into the kitchen with widened eyes. “Did you just call him Adrian? As in you’re-on-a-first-name-basis-with-the-hottest-person-living-Adrian? How did you manage to leave that part out when you were telling me everything that happened?!” She slapped my arm as punishment for this apparent transgression.

“Hey!” I squeaked, rubbing the spot as she frowned at me and took her mug. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know saying his first name would be such a big deal. Plus, you kept referring to him as ‘sexy pants’!” I argued, continuing to mix my chocolate into the milk.