Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
“We haven’t selected anyone yet. We don’t need an assistant,” I scoff while Nox sits suspiciously quiet.
He laughs and stands. “The hell you two don’t. I’ve been working with you two assholes for nearly five years, and you two might be geniuses with money, but you two don’t like people enough to deal with all the other bullshit. Hell, we barely get beers and catch a game once a month.”
He has a point. “We’ll find someone,” Lennox says with such assurance that I wonder if he’s already got it taken care of and hasn’t told me about it yet. He’s been acting strange for the past two days, but I’ve been too preoccupied with my own frustrations to say shit about it.
He stands up and shakes our hands. “Very well. I’ll see you guys next week. I have my hands full for the next few days. Read over the contracts and make sure they’re to your liking, and then send them to my office.”
“You got it, pain in the ass.” He flips me off and then leaves us.
As the door closes, Lennox adjusts his coat. “Speaking of pain in the ass. Guess who graduated from college with a degree in business?” Nox says, giving me a cocky smirk.
“Who?” We don’t know many people, so I have a feeling who he’s going to mention, but I’d rather he’d get it over with so I can breathe again.
“Come on—who else? Your little Jilly Bean.” I don’t even argue about the “your” reference because she is mine.
“Oh, wow. Already? Has it been four years?” I question, pretending to be aloof when I’ve been counting down the days on my calendar, marking the hours and doing what I can to make the necessary arrangements for us.
“Yes. You’re still bothered that she was crushing on you during her freshman year.”
“It could have ruined our business,” I confess, because I nearly lost my mind when she got herself drugged. Those boys were quick to be expelled. Some of them were prosecuted when a raid mysteriously occurred and they were found to have violated other girls too.
“Well, she’s probably fucked half a dozen boys by now to get over you, so don’t worry. You’re an old man and no longer on her radar.” I try to control the vomit in my throat and the urge to flip my desk over in a rage. He doesn’t know a damn thing about her.
Pretending to give no fucks about his comments, I return to work matters. “Good for her. Is there another reason you’re in my office to waste more of my day? We have a twenty-pound contract to go over.” I raise the damn file Thorne brought over that could give a weaker man carpal tunnel.
“Actually, yes. There’s a reason why I mentioned her.” I raise my brows, waiting for him to continue. Instantly, my guts start to rumble. “I hired her as our new assistant.”
“What?” I roar, jumping out of my chair with my fingers splayed on my desk, glaring at my brother. He just destroyed my plan. I could kill him.
“Calm down. She’s out there training with Cynthia right now, so be quiet.”
“Thanks for discussing it with me.”
“What do you care, anyway? She doesn’t have feelings for you anymore. She’s smart and could use a start in the world.” If she was anyone else, I wouldn’t have any damn problem, but she’s not. She’s my fucking Jilly Bean.
“Fine. Now if you will excuse me, I need to get this contract looked at before we have to meet with Hallman and Banks.”
He throws his hands up and stands. “You’re not even going to say hello or even welcome her?”
“Not now. I’m busy.”
“Okay.” He shakes his head and leaves my office like I’m being unreasonable, but he has no idea what he’s fucking done.
I open up my phone, find her tracking device, and turn it on. She’s in the fucking building, of course, but this is more proof that she’s feet away from me and my brother isn’t playing some twisted prank on me.
My pulse picks up, dick stiffer than ever before, thoughts racing out of control. How the fuck am I supposed to get any work done now? With a swipe of my hand, I toss the papers across the desk, sending them to the floor.
“Mr. Masterson,” Cynthia gasps, stepping into my office uninvited at the worst time possible. What the fuck is wrong with everyone?
“Don’t you know how to knock?”
“Sorry. Your brother said you wanted your coffee. I can get those.” She sets my coffee down and then bends down in front of me to pick the papers up, but I’m so aggravated that I zone out with my eyes closed and my head tossed back on my leather chair, and I don’t hear the sound of the other pair of heels until I smell the soft, fruity scent I’d long burned into my memory. The scent that I use when I take my cock in hand as I shower, stroking my fantasies out until I nut with Jillian’s name falling from my lips. A groan falls from my throat.