The Billionaire's Assistant

by Sierra Rose

  He glanced at her for only a moment, before turning to me with a slight frown.

  “Some green tea, right Abby?”

  Once again, Malibu Barbie couldn’t help but interject.

  “Oh,” she glanced up at the waiter and pretended to look highly embarrassed, “I’m so sorry. I was under the impression that Abigail probably had work to do and wouldn’t be joining us, seeing as these outings are supposed to be for just the two of us.”

  My menu came down and I looked at her with cold amusement.

  Really? Two hours ago, you were groveling in my office. Now, you’re dismissing me as the help? That’s really the way you want to play it?

  No matter how furious he might be with me at the moment, the snide comment was enough to crack even Nick’s charming façade.

  “You can’t be serious—”

  “I can go,” I volunteered, suddenly hopeful as I half-rose to my feet.

  Nick’s hand shot out so fast, it’s like it was super-charged.

  The speed with which it happened was quite simply baffling, and the way he clamped down upon my wrist required some sort of explanation. He countered both discrepancies with a dazzling smile, flashing those dimples that never failed to get him out of a pinch.

  They certainly didn’t disappoint now.

  “Don’t be silly,” he forced me back down with a deceptively iron grip, as both the waiter and Ella swooned in unison, “you and I always take these introductory meetings together.”

  This time, I made the mistake of accidentally meeting his smoldering gaze. While his smile remained, his eyes quite simply promised death if I left him alone.

  I yanked free my wrist with a smile of my own, and rubbed it discreetly under the table.

  “I always have time for you, Nick...”

  “How sweet,” he said dryly, before turning back to the waiter. “She’ll have some tea, please.”

  As the waiter hurried off, more confused than ever, I made a valiant attempt to pull myself together and take control of things once again.

  I’m not going to lie—the crouch-grab threw me for a second. As did the fact that a girl I’d thought was simply ambitious, was actually a certifiable psychopath. But if my time spent working in public relations had taught me anything, it was that everything was a matter of spin.

  This may have been my mistake—one derived from an ill-conceived plan based off an even more ill-conceived notion I didn’t fully understand—but I would fix it. I simply had to.

  Otherwise, I’d be using that butter knife sooner than I thought.

  And since Hurricane Ella was obviously a destructive force that none of us had the means of containing, I would simply have to act like the joke was on me too.

  “So, Ella,” I interrupted her mid-rant about the benefits of testing certain kinds of make-up on animals first, “tell Nick a little bit about yourself. The same things you were telling me.”

  He shot me another testy look, but she was more than willing to oblige.

  “Well, I just got a modeling contract from Ford. The thing lasts for an entire—”

  “That’s right!” I interrupted quickly. No need in him finding out that even her new employer had given up on her already. “A prestigious contract. What else?”

  Come on—give me anything. Anything I can use.

  “I’m allergic to peanuts.”

  Nick and I both blanked.

  Okay, uh...literally ANYTHING besides that.

  “Well to be honest, my life’s pretty much an open book.” She started trailing a sharply manicured fingernail across the tablecloth, inching it closer and closer to Nick’s side. “I just got to New York from a town in Oklahoma—of all places—so I’m brand new. Just looking for someone to show me the city. Someone who won’t be afraid to get their hands a little dirty—”

  “That’s right,” I intervened, leaning forward to give the speech myself. “She just got to the city, so she’s brand freaking new. No scandal. No skeletons in the closet. How many models, heiresses, and actresses living in New York can say that with a straight face?”

  Granted, Ella looked like she was ready to change that scandal thing in a big hurry...

  “I also really like Zumba—” she ventured again.

  “She comes from a mid-western Protestant family. No criminal record. No sex tapes that she swore she didn’t have, but a month later, the entire internet is watching her in a bee-keeper uniform, committing every blasphemy under the sun.”

  (Texas. Ten months ago. Don’t ask.)

  “She doesn’t drink. Doesn’t smoke. And in the last election, she voted the same way as over half of the board.”

  “Wait a minute,” Ella set down her sparkling water, “how do you know which way I—”

  “Plus—her great aunt is actually Robin Campbell. As in, famed New York Times journalist, Robin Campbell.”

  It was a massive point in my favor. Although, to be fair, it was also something I’d found out only after scheduling the meeting.

  Ella fiddled with her straw, pouting because I was the one talking. “We don’t really talk to that side of the fam—”

  “So you see?” I locked eyes with Nick across the table. “She’s just about perfect.”

  On paper. In real life, she was probably classified as some kind of sexual predator.

  Ella giggled and blushed, throwing me a ‘thanks for talking me up’ wink, before turning to bat her eyes at Nick some more. “I guess it looks that way, doesn’t it?”

  But Nick only had eyes for me. In fact, the longer we stared at each other, the harder we found it to stop. But the longer we stared, the more it looked like he was starting to understand.

  A dawning glimmer of realization started dancing in his eyes, and for the first time since he’d been groped in front of those Japanese tourists, his lips curved up in a genuine smile.

  “She is perfect, isn’t she?” His sparkling eyes never left my face. “For the company.”

  ...but not so perfect for me.

  My face blanched as every single bone in my body locked into place.

  Yep—he’d come to the exact same conclusion I’d come to myself, plotting on my bed just a night before. The burning question of why, was still completely beyond me. Why the hell I’d want to create the distinction. But at this point, it hardly mattered.

  I’d been found out. Outed. Finished. All my scheming and trickery exposed for all the world to see. Nick knew the truth. It was written all over his face. There was no way in hell I would have actually selected this kind of girl for him. This kind of girl wasn’t fit for anybody.

  But maybe...just maybe I could somehow manage to deflect some of the blame.

  “It’s always such a...a treat when you read about someone on paper, but then get to know the real thing.” I laughed lightly. “Ella’s so...vivacious in person. I really had no idea—”

  “Oh, don’t be so modest. You must have had some idea.” Nick leaned forward, suddenly enjoying himself. Without missing a beat, he reached over and took Ella’s hand. “Otherwise, I can’t think of a single reason why you would have pulled dear Ella’s name out of the hat.”

  Those eyes of his held me hostage. Like a mouse staring up at a cat. Unable to move.

  “Tell me, Abby,” he demanded with a wicked grin, “is she everything you hoped for?”

  I winced apologetically and struggled to find something to say. He was just toying with me now. Letting me stew in whatever catastrophes had yet to come.

  “She’s...certainly something.”

  “You know, that’s always been Abby’s problem.” He raised up Ella’s fingers and kissed her across the knuckles, grinning at me over the top of her hand. “So secretive. So guarded. You never know what’s going on inside that demented little head.”

  All my red flags shot up at once, waving around frantically to get my attention.

  Something terrible was about to happen. I just didn’t know exactly what...

  Nick, plea
se. I’m sorry, okay. Let’s just go. Leave the crazy behind, and go.

  I sent the message telepathically with my eyes, but even though he knew exactly what I was thinking, he wasn’t letting me off the hook so easily. Instead, he straightened up with an anticipatory smile—still holding onto Ella’s clawed hand.

  As for Ella herself, she seemed completely unaware of the fact that the two of us had been having a completely different conversation this entire time. The entire time we’d been talking, her head had bounced back and forth like a tennis match—latching onto random words and out of context phrases. Mostly, she was just thrilled that Nick was holding her hand.

  “Well—aren’t the two of you just so sweet,” she drawled, clearly thrilled that we’d all gotten on the same page. “Who’s up for some squid?!”

  And...that’s my limit.

  “Actually, Ms. Campbell, these meetings are usually a bit more formal than that,” I said quickly, making a grand show of bustling around to gather up my purse. If Nick wasn’t going to end this train wreck, I’d have to do it myself. “Just drinks and chit-chat—you know the drill.”

  Ella stood up quickly.

  “Oh...of course.”

  I pushed to my feet—yanking Nick up along with me—and extended my hand to shake.

  “Thank you so much for taking the time. We’ll definitely put you on the short list—”

  “What’s the point?” Nick interjected.

  I froze momentarily, then shot him a look.

  No need to say it in front of her. I know she’s deranged, but have a heart.

  “The point is, we want to explore all our options, but Ella’s been so sweet.” My smile tightened dangerously. “We most definitely want to keep her in mind—”

  “No, I mean, what’s the point of having a short list?” With an ease and charm that took my breath away, he slipped an arm around her waist. “I think we’ve found our girl.”

  “You’re kidding!” Ella squealed, jumping up and down.

  “You’re kidding,” I repeated, feeling like the walls were closing in.

  Nick flashed me a devilish grin, ignoring the bimbo beside him—leaping for the sky.

  “Not at all. When you bring me such a qualified candidate, how can I possibly say no?”

  By shaking your head? By sending her away? By showing an ounce of mercy and sparing me from the horrors I’d so foolishly set upon you?

  “Well, that’s...” I swallowed back the taste of bile, and started again, “that’s wonderful.”

  “Isn’t it though?” Nick flashed me another grin, before turning to Ella. “You’re going to love Abby—she’s simply the best. In fact,” he grabbed a pen off the receptionist’s counter, “I’m going to give you her private cell—just to make sure you can get a hold of her. Day and night.”

  My world got a little darker with every number he scribbled. Where was Oklahoma from here anyway? Maybe they had room for one more...?

  “Well, thank you both so much for meeting me.” Ella actually leaned in and gave me a tight hug—leaving what was sure to be two silicone-shaped bruises on my collarbone. “I’ll be sure to give you a call—I know I’m going to have a lot of questions.”

  Kill me now.

  “No problem, Ella. Thanks for coming in.”

  “And you.” She turned to Nick with a chilling smile. “I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.” She stretched up on her toes and whispered in his ear. “A lot of fun.”

  When she pulled away, she left a ring of bright pink lip gloss on his skin. He seemed determined not to think about it. He just focused on me instead.

  “I can’t wait.”

  She left without another word. Left us standing—ironically—in front of a tank where the sushi bar kept its lobster. The same lobster that had gotten us into this mess in the first place.

  “Well this has to be a first,” Nick murmured, watching as her cab shot away into traffic.

  I followed his gaze for a moment, before turning back—suddenly remembering that I had left my butter knife back on the table. “What’s a first?”

  He folded his arms across his chest with a dangerous smile.

  “It looks like you’ve got some explaining to do...”

  Chapter 16

  We moved from the sushi bar, to an actual bar across the street. This time, we got a private room in the back—one that was strategically off-limits to both patrons and the inevitable paparazzi hovering on the sidewalk. Those cameras Ella had been craving the entire time.

  Buttons were loosened, jackets were removed. A bottle of aged whiskey was set in between us on the table. Nick opened it without a word and poured two glasses.

  Then he leaned back and waited for an explanation.

  ...an explanation I was having a hard time giving.

  I took one look at his face, and abruptly panicked. He didn’t look particularly mad, but the fact that I was even in this ridiculous situation, speechless as a guilty school girl sitting in the principal’s office, was making my head spin. I took a big gulp of whiskey. Then another. Then one more after that. After that...I realized my glass was empty.

  He pursed his lips with a little smile and poured me another.

  Oh...how the tables have turned.

  How many times had the roles been reversed? How many times had I been sitting on the other side of the table, watching Nick have a silent panic attack before confessing his latest batch of sins? Gentling them first with copious amounts of alcohol.

  I picked up the glass with shaking hands, then set it down again—at a complete loss for words. When it became clear I needed help, Nick gave me a little push.

  “So...what are we into this time, Abby?”

  My head snapped up, and I stared into his eyes. It was the exact same line I used to begin my routine rescue attempts. The standard preamble to unlock whatever new kind of mess he’d found himself in. I must have used it a hundred times.

  His eyes twinkled back into mine, and in spite of all the odds, I started to smile.

  “I’m sorry.”

  There. Might as well just get it over with. Give him enough time to gloat.

  He cocked his head teasingly to the side, frowning with false confusion.

  “And what, pray tell, are you sorry for?”

  The whiskey was taking effect. A nervous giggle rose up in my throat, but I swallowed it down—bowing my head with a grin as we started reading each other’s lines.

  “You know...the usual.” I took another sip, shaking my head with regret. “Lions, and tiger, and bears.”

  “Oh my.”

  The glass went back on the table, and I dropped my head into my hands.

  “I did this really stupid thing...to a really good friend of mine.”

  A pair of warm fingers slipped beneath my chin, lifting it back up again. An almost crippling wave of guilt crashed over me, but when I looked at Nick, all I saw was a gentle smile.

  “I’m sure he had it coming.”

  I froze for a split second, then a burst of actual laughter escaped my lips. My hands clamped over my mouth, desperate to apologize, but the second I laughed, he started laughing as well. Before long, it was over-taking us completely, filling our eyes with tears as we bounced back and forth—replaying the bizarre events of the day, slowly emptying the whiskey as we did.

  As the bottle got lower and lower, our voices got louder and louder. More buttons were loosened. Twenty minutes in, I kicked off my uncomfortable shoes. The manager was summoned to bring in round two and disappeared with a smile—shaking his head at the thousands of dollars us crazy kids were spending to just to cut lose.

  “I literally had no idea what to think,” Nick admitted, when conversation finally turned to the now-infamous grope. “For a second, I actually thought she might be blind or something. Poor thing just didn’t know where she was reaching.”

  I slumped over the table, shaking with uncontrollable laughter. Nick tried to swat at me, but he was too far
away and it didn’t help that he was still laughing himself. For the last hour and a half, it was like the two of us had been caught in a wave of it. Unable to stop. Unwilling to try.

  “You’re just lucky she didn’t try to give you a hug,” I finally caught my breath enough to speak, rubbing absentmindedly at my collarbone as I remembered her crushing embrace. “I think those implants might have broken something...”

  He snorted with laughter, pouring himself another glass.

  “You know, if we ever actually had sex, she would kill me with those things.” His smile abruptly faded as he stifled a shudder. “I’m not even entirely sure it would be an accident.”

  We shared a grave look, before collapsing once more.

  It was all just too much.

  The headlines. The merger. The trouble with his father. Something had to break, and our little Miss Oklahoma had been that proverbial tipping point.

  Of course...she would have never factored into the equation if it hadn’t been for me. A fact that Nick was just starting to realize, through his drunken stupor.

  “Hey,” he scooted suddenly closer to me in the booth, kicking off his shoes as we both reclined against the designer cushions, “about Ella...”

  Even as intoxicated as I was, my chest tightened nervously at the name.

  Shit—so we’re back to this again?

  “Who?”

  Not my best defense, but it was worth a try.

  He flashed me an indulgent grin, but then grew suddenly serious—his eyes dilating thoughtfully as they met mine. “Why did you pick her?”

  That’s a damn good question. One that I’d like the answer to myself.

  What the fuck had come over me last night? Why—when I opened up Ella Campbell’s file—had I picked up the phone? What had possibly possessed me to be so foolish?

  “You said that being with a stranger would be awkward, but professional,” I quoted his exact words from the day before, my voice lowering to a soft murmur. “A mutually beneficial arrangement. One with no real emotion—everything would be staged.”

  He tilted his head to the side, trying to understand.

  “So you found me a real-life succubus?”

  “No.” I laughed quietly, then the alcohol took hold. “Well actually yeah...kind of.”