by Whitney G.
ELEVEN
Tara
SUBJECT: YOUR BIRTHDAY Party (Sorry I Won’t Be There)
Hey Mariah!
I’m so sorry that I won’t be able to attend your birthday party this weekend. I know it’s the big 3-0, and me and Ava promised that we would both be there in Vegas with you, but I won’t be able to make it.
I have to go with my boss to Belgium for a business trip.
Please send pictures!
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SUBJECT: YOUR WEDDING (Can’t Make It)
Hey Britney!
I know you traveled all the way to New York last month with your tailor to get me fitted for a bridesmaid dress, but I won’t be able to be in your wedding next month.
Three people have quit at my office, and my boss is taking me to Spain for an emergency strategy meeting for a new hotel he’s building there.
Please send pictures!
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SUBJECT: YOUR GRADUATION Tomorrow (I’m SO Sorry!)
Hey Greg!
Thank you so much for inviting me to your graduation! I know that we’ve been friends since we were seven and you’ve done nothing but talk about getting your Ph.D. since we were in high school, so congratulations on finally reaching that milestone!
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to make it, as I’m still in Seattle with my boss and we’re getting slammed with new marketing work for a campaign. (If you get another Ph.D., I’ll definitely be at that graduation...)
Please send pictures!
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SUBJECT: YOUR BABY Shower (Can I Still Be the Godmother?)
Hey there, Elise!
Thank you so much for picking me to be the godmother of Baby Chase! I’m so excited for him to arrive this fall!
I know your baby shower is in four weeks, but I’m letting you know that I won’t be able to make it. My boss has just booked three back-to-back international tours. (I’m sending tons of diapers and onesies, though!)
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SUBJECT: WINNERS NEVER Quit (Excuse My Language)
Just curious, Mom...
Does your trademark phrase apply when someone is working for an asshole boss who is singlehandedly ruining her social life? Yes or no?
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SUBJECT: RE: WINNERS Never Quit (Excuse My Language)
Did you mean to send this to me instead of your mother?
Preston Parker,
CEO & Owner of Parker International
SUBJECT: RE: RE: WINNERS Never Quit (Excuse My Language)
YES.
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
TWELVE
Preston
Puerto Vallarta, Mexico
THERE HAD TO BE A WORD in the dictionary that was far stronger than “torture.” A word that perfectly captured how it felt to have the world at my fingertips, with the ability to get whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, except the one thing I wanted most. The one thing that was always right next to me, all day, every day.
Except when she’s purposely “running late” ...
Looking outside the windows of The Coast Bar, I watched rain pelt the white sands of the beach, wondering just how late Tara was going to be to our private lunch today. Annoyed, I picked up my phone to see if she’d sent me an email, and noticed an unread message.
SUBJECT: DON’T FORGET About Us
Dear Mr. Parker,
I want you to know that I still have plenty of space for you in my heart, just like I know you still have space for me in yours. I know there’s a certain someone who has become an obstacle for us lately with her changes in office protocol. (How dare she take away my walk-in privileges?!), but I’m still here for you whenever you need me.
I miss you, and I know you miss me.
Cynthia Avery
Executive Receptionist,
Parker International
PS—I sent you a new picture last night. Is my number still blocked? (You’ll be highly upset with yourself if you missed this one—wink wink)
Jesus Christ ...
I deleted her email and set down my phone. The last thing I wanted to do during an overseas business trip was deal with anyone back in New York. And while I’d never admit it, I loved that Tara had instituted new policies, so I hardly ever saw Cynthia or any of my auxiliary staff unless I specifically wanted to. She even moved all of the receptionists and secretaries to the floor below us, leaving the executive floor specifically for C-level executives.
She’d been more upset with me than usual lately, and she was giving me her twisted version of the silent treatment.
Ever since that night in her condo’s hallway over a year ago, she’d wedged some distance between us. She avoided being alone with me on elevators—getting off on the next floor the moment I stepped onto the car. She insisted on having interns on the floor with us whenever I asked her to stay late, and she answered every one of my late-night phone calls with an “I want you to know I’m recording every single word of this conversation for Human Resources, Mr. Parker.”
Unfortunately, none of those things quelled the tension between us. They only made it worse.
With every day that passed and every minute we spent together, my attraction to her became more unbearable. Everything from the shape of her mouth, to the curve of her hips was enough to make my cock hard whenever she entered a room, and I’d given up on trying to stop it.
Despite the fact that I’d never been so sexually frustrated in my life and my cold showers were now at a record four a day, I considered Tara to be the closest thing I had to a real friend. My first real friend. And on a professional level, I honestly felt like she was more like a partner in my company than an executive assistant.
“Mr. Parker?” A waiter stepped in front of me with a notepad. “Would you like me to get you an appetizer while you wait for your companion or would you like to order?”
I looked outside the window again, finding the beach completely empty. “I’ll go ahead and order.”
“Marvelous. What will you have this afternoon?”
“For myself, I’ll have the chef’s special with your best red wine.”
He nodded. “Excellent choice, sir. And your companion?”
“She’ll want to try your scallops, but ask the chef not to use any butter,” I said. “She’ll also want a small grilled chicken salad with balsamic vinaigrette and extra tomatoes. Also, for her allergies sake, could you make sure to leave out the garlic and chives?”
“As you wish, sir.” He was still scribbling. “Do you know what she’d like to drink?”
“Vodka.” I smiled. “Your strongest. Pour it in a wine glass with a strawberry garnish so no one else knows.”
“I’ll have that right out, sir.” He walked away, and I picked up my phone.
I scrolled to Tara’s name, hesitating to call her, because I already knew what she was going to say.
“Yes, I’m still recording every single word you say, and for the record, this business trip was totally last minute, so I’ll get to all the meetings when I feel like it. Right now, I don’t feel like it.”
I smiled at the thought, and just as I was pressing call, she walked into the restaurant wearing a stunning black and grey dress with towering red stilettos. She put away her umbrella at the door and shook hands with the manager.
As always, her raspy, sexy laugh drew looks from everyone who heard it, and the second she stepped onto the dining roo
m floor, every man in her radius stopped and stared.
Shivering, she made her way to our table and I stood up, taking off my blazer and wrapping it around her shoulders.
I waited for her to sit down before returning to my seat. “Are you still giving me the silent treatment?”
“Depends. Are you going to apologize for insisting that I attend this private lunch and the executive meeting right after, when I specifically asked you if I could have today off?”
“I’m not sure it’s ever appropriate for a boss to apologize to his employee for asking her to do her job.”
“Figures.” She slipped her arms into my jacket and scowled, looking sexier than ever. “When will the executives be here?”
“They won’t be here at all. I pushed the meeting to tonight when I realized how late you were going to be.”
“How thoughtful of you. Next time I’ll make you wait for two hours instead of one.”
“We both know you’ll never do that.”
“Because I love my job so much?”
“Because you’re a workaholic just like I am,” I said. “You hate being idle in the daytime.”
“I hate working for you in the daytime.”
“Miss?” The waiter returned to the table before I could respond to that. “Is there anything else you’d like to add to your order?”
“Add?” She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “Can I please place my own order? I highly doubt my dining companion ordered anything I like, and I would hate to waste the chef’s time by sending it back.”
“Of course, Miss.” He pulled out his pad as she opened a menu. “What would you like to have this afternoon?”
“Hmmm.” She paused. “I want to try your scallops, but can you tell the chef not to use any butter with those? I’d also like to have the small grilled chicken salad with balsamic vinaigrette and extra tomatoes.”
He stopped writing, looking at me in confusion as Tara continued to talk.
“I have allergies,” she said. “So, can you ask the chef to leave the garlic and chives out of the salad?”
“As you wish.” The waiter nodded. “What would you like to drink with your meal?”
“Your strongest brand of vodka, please. But please pour it into a wine glass with a strawberry garnish, so no one else will know what it is.”
“I’ll be right back with that, Miss.” He stepped away from the table, and she glared at me.
“That’s exactly why I prefer to order my own food,” she said. “I’m very picky.”
“I had no idea. Anyway, would you like to finally act like an adult and help me with the meeting preparation? Where do you think we should start?”
She didn’t answer. She just pulled out her phone and tapped the screen.
Seconds later, my phone buzzed with an email.
SUBJECT: YOUR SUIT & Tie.
I’ve told you repeatedly that whenever you wear a navy-blue suit and tie, you come off far more condescending than you actually are. (Which is actually quite shocking.) You need to wear a grey suit and a pinstripe tie to tonight’s meeting.
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
“You’re sitting right across from me and you’d rather send emails than talk?” I asked.
My phone buzzed again.
SUBJECT: YOUR RHETORICAL Question.
YES.
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SUBJECT: RE: YOUR RHETORICAL Question
I don’t recall asking if you would finally let me fuck you, but if your answer to that “rhetorical question” is still the same ...
Preston Parker,
CEO & Owner of Parker International
“Okay, fine.” She set her phone down as soon as she read my message. “We can go through all the meeting preparations after we eat.”
“I thought so.”
The waiter set down our food and drinks minutes later, and she immediately moved the pepper shaker away from my side of the table. I moved the bread basket away from hers.
“In the meantime,” she said, “You need a date to the Mister New York awards gala at the end of next month. Would you like me to find you a plus-one?”
“I would like for you stop bullshitting and go with me.”
“I’ve told you on numerous occasions that it’s not appropriate for me to attend social events as your date. You’re my boss.”
“I’ve told you that doesn’t matter and no one will dare to say a goddamn thing since I own the company.”
“So, no plus one at all.” She shrugged. “I’ll make the RSVP for one. You should also know that The New York Times is going to print a fairly decent article with very unflattering headline about you next week.”
“What’s the headline?”
“Soulless Hotelier Will Participate in DocuSeries.”
I picked up my fork. “Do you think I’m soulless?”
“Yes.”
“Is that my worst quality?”
“No,” she said. “You’re also quite evasive.”
“How so?”
“Because I know for sure that you have a twin brother that you refuse to acknowledge for some reason,” she said. “You don’t acknowledge him in your interviews or in any of your biographies. You don’t even mention your parents, so it’s going to be very interesting to see you in a documentary when you’re never open about anything. Unless ... Are you planning to finally talk about your family?”
I held my fork in mid-air, clenching my jaw as I processed her words. “I’m afraid I don’t have a family, Miss Lauren. I’ve told you that several times.”
“I figured.” She stuffed a bite of scallop into her mouth. “Anything else random you’d like to ask, then?”
“Are you dating someone new?”
“What?” She coughed.
“Are you dating someone new?” I repeated, trying to mask my envy.
“When do you honestly think I would have the time to date someone, Preston?”
“Perhaps during all the time we’ve been here, when you’ve spent your nights in my hotel’s private lounge, whispering on the phone for hours instead of being in your room.”
“Why were you stopping by my room in the middle of the night?”
“That’s not the point,” I said. “You weren’t there. Is he another intern?”
“No.” She crossed her arms. “It’s not a ‘he’ at all. It’s my mother.”
“Your mother is in Japan, and she hates talking on the phone.”
“She does, but she’s in the middle of another ‘finding herself’ exercise and she’s required to talk to me for two hours about all of her hopes and dreams to better her ‘aura’ and personal spirits.” She took a long sip of vodka. “She’s also convinced herself that she needs to help me get rid of my negative aura, so we always end up talking for longer.”
“Is she still telling you that winners never quit?”
“Every damn day ...”
THIRTEEN
Tara
BELGIUM, SWITZERLAND, China, London, France, Australia, Egypt, The Dominican Republic, Canada, Mexico ...
I flipped through the pages of my passport as Preston’s private plane flew through the skies. Each sheet was stained with recent stamps from countries I hardly remembered seeing, each one a stark reminder of how drastic my life had changed within two years.
I rented an exclusive condo on Park Avenue that offered weekly rooftop dinners with the best chefs in the city and early access passes to Broadway shows. My wardrobe was full of designer clothes that I once dreamed of wearing, and I no longer had to steal anything to survive. (Well, I still took advantage of the free breakfast here or there.)
My salary was now double what it was when I started, and I’d earned multiple bonuses. Despite all those things, I still felt miserable as hell.
“Would you like
a snack, Miss Lauren?” A flight attendant stepped in front of me. “Your favorite gluten-free trail mix, perhaps?”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.” She poured it into a glass bowl and handed me a bottle of water. Then she adjusted the pillow behind my head and whispered, “Mr. Parker wants to know if you would like to stop anywhere else before we land in New York.”
“No, I just want to go home.”
“Very well, Miss.” She walked away, and I picked up my phone to send Ava an email.
SUBJECT: TRIP FROM Hell (Kind of)
I’m currently on the plane with Preston, so I can’t call you, but I can’t wait to get home and tell you all the shit he put me through this week. He gave me ONE off day, Ava. ONE! (And I don’t even think it counts because he still called me at 2 a.m. for no reason. NO DAMN REASON!
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SHE EMAILED ME RIGHT back.
SUBJECT: RE: TRIP FROM Hell (Kind of)
Wait. You’re emailing me from a private plane after spending a week at the #1 Parker Hotel in the world, and you want to come home and complain about your life????
Ava Sanders
Bestie to Tara Lauren of Parker International
Currently Living My Best Life
SUBJECT: RE: TRIP FROM Hell (Kind of)
I’m honestly starting to feel like I don’t have much of a “life” of my own at all...
Tara Lauren,
Executive Assistant to Preston Parker,
CEO of Parker International
SHAKING MY HEAD, I set my phone down and stared out the window until the familiar skyline of New York City came into view.
We landed amidst a slight rainfall, but before I could take my first breath of familiar city air, I overheard Preston talking to the pilot.