by Ella Miles
She sucks in a breath but otherwise doesn’t flinch.
“I need you to generate July’s P&L, prepare an update for our investors, read the ten articles that were submitted to be included in the company newsletter, give me summaries of the spreadsheets Daniel sent me, find a place to host the fall party and finish answering my emails.”
Her eyes get big, but she doesn’t argue. She was expecting me to add more to her plate. I want to threaten her job if she so much as looks at Cole again, but I don’t want to bring up my bastard of a best friend again.
“Done.” Her eyes narrow and her lips thin. “My advance?”
I smirk. “I don’t think you have earned your advance yet.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I’ve worked my ass off for you today.”
“Liar. You did the minimum needed. And then you kissed and would have most likely fucked, my best friend in your office. That doesn’t sound like someone who is a hard worker.”
She frowns.
“You’re really not going to give me an advance?”
“No, but don’t worry. My bedroom is yours until you get paid at the end of the month. Although, I have a strict no men allowed rule that I doubt you will be able to follow.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m letting you stay in my condo for free. I think you should be thanking me.”
“Thank you, Knight, for ensuring that any feelings I had developed during our drunken and high night together have completely vanished. I will work hard and earn my money. And then I’ll be out of your life, forever.”
“Good, you’ve finally learned.”
She leaves without another word. It’s for the best, I remind myself. I’d rather destroy her now than later.
“I’m leaving for the day,” Cole says sticking his head into my office.
I growl. “Get the fuck out, Cole.”
Cole doesn’t leave. He steps inside with his smug ass expression.
“Dammit Cole!” I slam my computer down, and it breaks. “I thought you kissed her the first time to mess with me.”
“I did.”
“Then, what the hell was that?”
“You are holding back. You aren’t going to pursue her beyond whatever stupid thing you hired her to do. I was helping.”
“I don’t need your fucking help, Cole. I need you to get out of my life.”
“Don’t worry. I’m done meddling. It’s clear I’m not helping anyway.”
“You were wrong. Mila likes you.”
Cole laughs. “That’s what you think? Mila slapped me. It stung worse than your weak ass punch too.”
Mila slapped him. Shit. And I pushed her away even further.
“Mila wants you. Although, I’m sure you were an ass to her and now you’ll be lucky if she keeps working for you.”
I was, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I meant what I said about our deal. I’m selling my company to someone else. You don’t deserve it.”
Cole shrugs. “I have more than enough money. What are you going to do about Mila?”
“Nothing.” Not a damn thing. I shouldn’t have even hired her. She can’t help me. No one can. It was a gut reaction. I thought she could help, but she can’t.
Cole shakes his head. “Tell Mila now that you broke your computer and she needs to get you a new one, rather than waiting until later when the Apple store has closed.” And then he’s gone.
I need to lock my damn door. I get up to do just that when Abri steps inside.
“You talking to me yet, Ace?” Abri asks with a smile on her face. She brushes her hand over my chest, and it takes everything in me not to grab her wrist and throw her out of my office. But that’s precisely what she wants.
“No, not after what you did.”
She cocks her head to one side and twirls her auburn hair. Anyone else would think she looks like an innocent teenager, not a dangerous twenty-four-year-old.
“What did I do?” Her smile grows larger, and she bats her eyelashes like she couldn’t have possibly done anything wrong.
“Nevermind,” I mumble under my breath. I step back and watch as her hand falls into the space between us. I want to retreat behind my desk again, but it would be a victory for Abri. I’m not going to let her win. Even for a second.
Abri knows me too well though. She skips over to my desk and takes a seat like this is as much her office as it is mine. It was once. It’s one of the many reasons I want to sell this company and start over.
“I heard you hired a new me and gave her my old office.”
I clench my teeth together to keep from growling. I hate her behind my desk, and I don’t want her to notice Mila. I should have never brought Mila here. I keep my expression blank and indifferent. Abri doesn’t need to know Mila is a weakness.
“I did. You weren’t exactly cutting it as my assistant anymore.”
Abri rolls her eyes. “Partner, if I recall. My title was partner.”
I shrug. “You seemed like an assistant to me.”
“If the new girl isn’t up to the job, all you have to do is ask me nicely, and I’ll take my job back. I’ll even let you call me your assistant.”
I snicker. “You haven’t had a hard day’s work in months. I doubt you even remember how to work hard.”
She tucks her hair behind her ear revealing the curve of her neck, my favorite place to kiss her. She knows it. It’s why she always exposes that spot of soft skin around me. To distract me and remind me what I can never have again.
She doesn’t realize the spot no longer attracts me to her. My cock no longer responds to her advances. You couldn’t pay me enough money to touch her or even kiss her.
“We could try to keep it professional this time. You know I’m the best assistant you’ve ever had. The others haven’t even lasted longer than a week.”
I narrow my eyes. The others haven’t lasted because of Abri, not me. She’s tortured them. I’m not the best boss. I work all of my assistants hard, easily working them a hundred hours or more a week. But I pay them well, really well. When I hire them, they understand what is expected, and I know that no one will stay at a job for more than a year, two max. But none survive even a year; the money isn’t enough to deal with Abri.
“Miss Burns will last longer than a week.” I hate calling Mila, Miss Burns. It sounds too formal, not at all like Mila truly is.
Abri pouts and then pulls out a tube of red lipstick from her purse applying it slowly to her lips like that is going to make me want to kiss her or something.
“Are you finished? Some people have work to do.”
She slowly puts the tube back into her purse. “You should get the A/C checked. It’s scorching in here, Ace.”
She slowly removes her jacket and hangs it on the back of my chair. My chair will smell like her Chanel No. 5 perfume the rest of the day.
Dammit.
I know she’s pushing her boobs up in her lace tank top, but I don’t notice. I’m tired of her damn games. She started this, but I’m going to finish it.
“I think I’m going to check in with your new assistant tomorrow. Miss Burns, is it? Show her some pointers to ensure she lasts.”
“I don’t care what you do as long as you get out of my damn office.”
Abri licks her lips. Her last move at trying to seduce me. She forgets I’m more than aware she’s a manipulative bitch.
Abri runs her hand through my hair. “I miss your long locks, Ace. You look too grown up with this haircut.”
I grab her wrist this time. I can’t help myself. “I’m not a teenager you can play games with anymore without consequences, Abri. If you play with fire, you are going to get burned.”
“Maybe, but so far I think I’m winning. And you haven’t even seen what I have planned for my grand finale yet. It’s good, Ace. I would surrender now while you still have something left you love. Otherwise, I’m taking everything. You don’t get to fuck with me and get away with it.”
I drop her wrist. “Out.”
Abri leaves without another word, but she makes sure to sway her hips in hopes I will watch her go. I watch her leave, not because she looks sexy, but because I need to make sure she’s actually leaving.
I walk over to my desk, grab the jacket, and toss it in the trash. Then I text Mila to have a cleaning crew clean out my office ASAP. I don’t want it smelling like Abri tomorrow. I won’t get any work done.
I want to tell Abri to stay the hell away from Mila, but I can’t. It will make it worse on Mila. Mila wants to fight her own battles, here’s her chance. Mila can hate me all she wants, but I’m not the devil. Abri is.
11
Mila
I storm upstairs to my bedroom in Knight’s apartment. He isn’t home yet, but the driver gave me a key to his apartment. Well, apparently our apartment until I get paid. I kick my heels off revealing the blisters on my toes and then fall onto his large bed.
I’ve never been this exhausted before. I love working hard. I’ve pulled twenty-four shifts at the hospital. I thought nothing could top that, but working for Knight does. Not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. I can’t keep doing this every day. No matter how much money he is paying me.
I need a bath and a change of clothes. I stand up and walk to his closet again to try and find some sweatpants or something of his I can force to fit me after my bath.
I gasp when I open the closet. My clothes are hanging neatly next to his. My duffel bag, backpack, and books that were in my car line the bottom row. How did he find my car? Did he break into it?
And there are more clothes in my size next to mine. Mostly work clothes it seems. Heels I will never wear line the bottom of the closet.
Who did this? It sure wasn’t Knight. I’ve had to do everything from getting his coffee to answering his phone. I’m surprised he didn’t want me to wipe his ass when he takes a shit. There is no way he did this. How many other assistants does he have? And why does it seem he dumped the most work on me?
Questions for later. Right now, I need a bath. I grab my sweatpants and a T-shirt and carry them to the bathroom where a large tub sits in the corner. The tub could easily fit four people, and I’m going to have it all to myself.
I turn the water on as hot as it will go and add soap so that bubbles form. Then I strip and step into the tub, and everything else disappears. I close my eyes and doze in the tub. When I’m finished, I’ll order some pizza or something and then collapse in the bed. I don’t have time to argue with Knight tonight. Not if I have to do this again tomorrow.
Everything melts away. The hate. The pain. The aches. The lust. All of it. I don’t think about Knight. I’m lost in my own world until I take a deep breath. My stomach growls as flavors of Mexican food drift up to the bathroom.
I’m starving. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and it’s almost midnight now. I couldn’t afford anything in the cafe downstairs, and I didn’t want to ask Knight to pay for my lunch.
Please let Knight still be at work or already in whatever bedroom he’s sleeping in now. Please don’t let him be downstairs.
I get dressed quickly and creep downstairs, careful of what I’m going to find.
“You like tacos, right?” Knight says smiling, pleased with himself as he sits at the bar where he has two plates of food. One sitting in front of him, the other in front of an empty chair for me.
“Good job, you remembered I like tacos,” I say sarcastically as I approach the bar slowly like it’s a trap.
Knight hasn’t changed out of his suit. He’s removed his jacket and tie, and his sleeves are rolled up. Otherwise, he still looks all business.
He pulls the chair out for me, and I take a seat. I stare down at the glorious tacos, my mouth watering.
“Eat,” Knight commands.
I sigh. He likes bossing people around. We are going to have to work on that.
But I’m too hungry to fight him right now. I take a bite, and it’s like heaven exploded in my mouth.
“Oh my god! This is the most delicious thing,” I say with my mouth still full. I take another bite and then another.
“Did you order these from somewhere or did your cook make them?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t order them, and I don’t have a cook.”
“Then who cooked these?”
“Me.”
My mouth gapes as I stare at Knight. There is no way he made these. The tortillas are homemade, along with the green chile sauce, and the pork tastes like it’s been stewing all day.
“Liar. I thought you would always be honest with me. There is no way you had time to make these. I bet you can’t even cook toast without burning it.”
“I don’t lie. At least not to you.”
I blink rapidly, not understanding. But when I examine his kitchen, I notice the dirty pots and pans stacked in his sink. I notice the spilled sauce on the counters, and when I look at his shirt, I spot the drops of grease on his shirt. He cooked this.
“Thank you.”
He smirks. “Don’t thank me. I would have cooked something whether you were here or not. It’s my time to destress.”
“You don’t go to the gym for that?”
I blush when he realizes I’m talking about his hot body.
“I do, but cooking helps me wind down before I sleep.”
I nod and eat more of my tacos.
“I still hate you, you know.”
He stills, then nods. “I know.”
“It’s what you wanted though, isn’t it? You want us both to hate each other.”
Again, he nods.
“Well, mission accomplished. We hate each other. You don’t have to worry about us developing feelings for each other.”
“Good.”
I wipe my mouth on the napkin next to my plate. He even remembered to give me a napkin. No other guy I’ve dated before would cook for me or even remember something simple like a napkin.
“But if you want me to keep working for you, which I know you do, I have some demands. I’ve already heard most of your assistants don’t last the week.”
He nods slowly.
“Then you have to treat me nicer.”
“Nicer? Are you serious?”
“Yes, you can be a bit of an ass.”
“I’ve heard.” He smiles like he’s proud of it.
I sigh. “Yes, if you want me to keep working for you it wouldn’t hurt to say please and thank you. Or to give me all of my tasks at the beginning of the day, as opposed to throwing random tasks at me throughout the day so that I can plan. I’m a bit of a control freak and like to have my day planned in advance.”
He turns and stares at me, and suddenly my heart is fluttering. “That’s not what you want. You want me to go easy on you. Give you less work.”
“No, I like work. I will earn the money you are paying me. Just say please and thank you.”
“Fine.”
“Fine?”
“I will say please and thank you.”
That was too easy. Something is up with him.
“And I would like my own place.”
“Then get your own place.”
“I can’t afford it without my first paycheck.”
“I don’t see how that’s my problem.”
I sigh. Just take the first win for today and move on.
We finish eating in silence although if he saw what was going on inside my body, he wouldn’t be silent. Because every time he takes a bite it draws my attention to his lips, and then I want to kiss him. I shouldn’t want to kiss him. He treated me like a slave today. He lectured me for a kiss that wasn’t even my fault. I should hate him, but hate isn’t that far away from love. They are both strong emotions that make people do stupid things.
I will not kiss him. I excuse myself quickly when I eat the last bite of my tacos and then race upstairs. I fall into his cushy bed that smells like him. Rough, manly, and bad boy.
I want to leave, but I also want
to stay. His bed is incredible, better than anything I can afford. That’s the only reason I want to stay, I tell myself. That and the cooking. His scent. And the way he stares at me like I’m the most important thing in his world.
Maybe I am? Why else would he make me my favorite food for dinner?
Because he was trying to apologize for being an ass without having to say I’m sorry. That’s all. Tomorrow it will go right back to how it was before. The more we work together, the more I will hate him. Then I won’t want to kiss him anymore.
I take another deep breath and get a whiff of his shampoo from his pillow. I’m just going to steal this pillow when I leave.
My phone buzzes. A message from Lana.
* * *
Lana: Are you living on the streets yet?
* * *
Me: No, I’m living like a princess in the highest tower.
* * *
Lana: Explain, NOW.
* * *
Me: Too tired. I’ll call you tomorrow before work at six AM.
* * *
Lana: That’s too early! Tell me now.
* * *
Me: Sleeping…
I glance at my watch that says a quarter ’til seven. Knight usually gets here by seven, sometimes earlier, which is why I got here at five. He thinks I don’t want to work hard. He believes I haven’t earned my advance yet, but today I will prove him wrong.
The elevator doors open, and Knight steps out in a dark grey suit and piercing blue tie. I step out of my office to greet him before he enters his.
“Good morning, Knight.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Morning,” he mumbles.
He opens his office door, and I follow him inside. Sitting at his desk is a large coffee and the oatmeal breakfast he requested. He takes a seat behind the desk.
“I already made sure to confirm your schedule for today, I’ve answered all of your emails, and made summaries of your emails and voice messages. I also wrote out some thoughts about the meeting with Gerard. He left a detailed email, and I don’t think you should merge with Wayfinder. Their business is floundering and will take your company down with them.”