Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Instantly, my mind went on alert. Not wanting to discuss anything to do with Kyler I answered with a simple “no” and gave nothing else.
Luckily, that was the end of that.
Because she didn’t push and for that I was grateful.
As I’m only new and still learning, I don’t have anything assigned to me all week. She mentioned it would probably stay that way for a few months until I can do everything with confidence and ease, so each day this week I have been shadowing other colleagues and their clients. Most of the stuff I do already know; I know how to be a personal assistant after years with Kyler. They interview all their candidates thoroughly and do full background checks on them as well. It’s interesting to see how the other side works. Each assistant signs a non-disclosure agreement, and if they breach it, the consequences are steep. But most are just excited to work for someone famous.
I want to tell them it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but I don’t and keep my opinions to myself.
On Friday, as I am leaving the office, I see Jake leaning against my new car. It’s a small Toyota, nothing as flashy like I used to drive, but it is more affordable. His Porsche sits behind my car, blocking me in. I pause halfway between the office and the parking lot, my heart already speeding up at the sight of him and my mind switching into overdrive about what he might want.
I haven’t heard from Jake all week, not since I left his club that night and Captain dropped me off at home without a word. I know he has my number, and I guess I have his, but I wasn’t sure what to say.
Thanks for rocking my world. No.
Kyler, on the other hand, has been calling and messaging non-stop. It’s at the point where I’m almost ready to change my number so I don’t have to deal with him.
“Do you plan to take a few more steps over here to talk?” Jake asks.
Goddamn, I’ve become frozen to the spot and can’t seem to move, so I simply say, “That depends. Why are you here?”
“I need a favor.”
“A favor?” My face scrunches in confusion. What could this man possibly need from me?
“Yes. I need someone to assist me at a work function.”
“Like a date?”
His lip quirks with a devilish smirk. “No. Our dates aren’t dates. They are fucking. I’m not opposed to fucking you, Oriana, but this is about business.”
“So, it’s business?” My eyes narrow, now intrigued.
“Yes.”
“What do I get out of it?” I take a step closer.
He pushes off the car, that smirk never leaving his face. “I’ll fuck you in the car after.” He leans in close to my ear. “Have you ever been fucked in a Porsche, Oriana?”
“No,” I say breathlessly. He knows I come from money, but the way he says it makes me believe he knows my sex life has been very vanilla, and having sex with someone in a car…well, that sounds like fun.
“Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.” Jake turns, gets in his car, and drives off.
I stay where I am, thoughts whirling, wondering why I agreed to his demand.
Did I even actually agree?
Harvey is away again, so when a knock comes on his door while I’m getting ready, I know it’s not for him. Sucking in a breath, I tell myself I should ignore it. Right?
I tighten the towel around me when the knock comes again. My hair and makeup are done and I am all but ready except for the dress, which I am struggling with.
“Who is it?”
“Are you expecting someone else?” I freeze at my husband’s voice. “Oriana.” Why, when he says my name now, does it annoy me? “I know you can hear me.”
“I can,” I confirm. “I’m busy. I have plans.”
“This can’t wait.”
“I’m sure it can,” I say, still not opening the door.
“Oriana.” Releasing a breath, I open the door slowly. His eyes find mine and then instantly look me up and down.
“What’s so important it can’t wait?” I ask.
As he steps in without invitation, I step back, my hand still on the door. Kyler walks into my brother’s place like he has been here hundreds of times. He hasn’t because he hated visiting family and especially mine.
“Do you have a date?” he asks.
I pull the towel even tighter, huffing, not wanting to answer his questions
“Do you?” I fire back at him. “Pamela, wasn’t it?” I refer to the woman he kissed in the picture that’s splashed on every magazine front page. “How is she?”
I met her once. Pamela’s a model, and she is absolutely beautiful. If I could put two women next to one another and call them opposites, it would be the two of us.
“That was just for press,” he says, not so convincingly.