by Cora Reilly
Back outside, I returned to the bar for another glass of water. The night was still young; maybe there was more pussy to discover. When I didn’t spot Evie anywhere, I checked my phone and found a message from her.
Fiona told me you were busy, and I quote, getting head, so I decided to take a taxi home. Charming women’s panties off is your job, not mine.
I shook my head with a smile. She was something else. When I looked back up, I was hit with Maya’s scowl. I had a feeling she’d savor her revenge even more than she’d savored my dick.
I grabbed a few newspapers on my way to Xavier’s apartment and let myself in with enough noise to waken a hibernating grizzly, then headed into the kitchen area. I listened for strange noises from upstairs, but it was quiet. Was Xavier alone?
Choosing not to risk another embarrassing incident, I turned on the espresso maker, which came to life with a satisfying hiss. As I waited for it to heat up, I perched on a barstool and spread the newspapers out in front of me, and immediately wished I hadn’t. Xavier having left the party with another woman who had been in the last season of The Bachelor was worth only a side note. His new assistant, aka me, filled up the rest of the article.
As I started reading and scanned the photos, I could feel the color draining from my face. The first photo was the deer-in-the-headlights look as Xavier had called it, but that wasn’t even the worst. Somehow they had chosen the perfect angle to show the two half-moon-shaped sweat stains on my too tight beige dress right under my butt cheeks. I must have sweated while reading the stupid non-disclosure clause. The subtitle logged a lump in my throat. “Never heard of antiperspirant? You need it for your butt.”
The next photo was a close-up of me on the beach in my shorts with a nasty comment about my missing thigh gap. The last few photos finally showed me at the party. The dark blazer and pants with the white blouse made me look like a penguin in the photos as I skulked a few steps behind Xavier. Even worse than the photos, which seemed hardly possible, was the accompanying article. It speculated that Xavier had chosen me because his advisors had forced him to pick an off-putting assistant for once. They called me fat, mousy and boyish. I had been submitted to my fair share of mockery in high school and convinced myself that comments about my appearance couldn’t hurt me anymore, but this article got to me. Despite my best efforts, tears burnt in my eyes. I couldn’t believe the press chose to attack me, but I should have expected it. Xavier was a constant guest in the tabloids and I was a new piece of gossip. Even if I didn’t want their attention, they wouldn’t allow me to stay in the shadows. It was what Xavier had warned me about I could only decide on what kind of scandal they focused.
“What kind of bullshit did they come up with today?” Xavier drawled from behind me.
I jerked on my stool, not having heard him approach. Before I could cover the embarrassing article, Xavier stepped up beside me, once again in those infuriating Calvin Kleins, and started reading. I slid off the stool and busied myself with the espresso unit, hoping my face didn’t give away how much this got to me. It was ridiculous.
“Usually they attack me,” Xavier said quietly.
The strange note to his voice made me turn to him. His eyes scanned my face, lingering on my own eyes, which still felt a bit prickly. “I guess I should ask for a bonus. After all, I’ll be your shield from the nastiness of the press now.” My voice came out surprisingly flippant, for which I was glad.
“You aren’t supposed to be,” Xavier muttered.
I gave a small shrug as I prepared the milk foam, then poured it on the espresso. It wasn’t as fluffy as Xavier’s foam had been, but for my first attempt it wasn’t too bad. I handed him the cup. He leaned back against the kitchen island and regarded me as he sipped his coffee. “You should ignore them. If you show them that what they say bothers you, they will attack even worse. They want to get a rise out of you, or me.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” I said. Both Xavier and I knew it was a lie. My voice betrayed me, and my eyes did too.
Xavier’s mouth pulled into a daring grin. “We could prove them wrong, you know?” He raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way. “Have a nice public make-out session. Give them a little show.”
I laughed. “Yeah, right. Not going to happen.”
Xavier chuckled. I doubted he had any kind of interest in me. He’d tried to lift my spirits, which was surprisingly nice, and yet felt like a letdown. It wasn’t that I wanted to sleep with Xavier, but it would have been nice if he showed at least the slightest interest in me. I had seen how he undressed pretty much every woman at the party with his eyes. That he didn’t look at me that way was a worse blow than the stupid articles, even though it shouldn’t be.
“So what’s on today?” Xavier asked eventually.
“Training, and a meeting with a local sports label that wants you as their poster boy, literally. Apparently they want to create an exclusive Xavier line of sports fashion. They need to take your measurements, and have you choose the designs and fabric for the clothes.”
Xavier nodded. “Sounds like fun,” he muttered.
“It’s better publicity than you usually get,” I said, remembering the horrid articles.
“True.”
“The meeting is right after training so you won’t have much time to shower.”
“If you give me a helping hand, I’m sure the shower won’t take as long,” he drawled.
As if I needed the image of Xavier lathering his Adonis body in my brain.
Xavier took longer to shower than he was supposed to and I considered heading into the changing room and dragging him out personally when one of his teammates, a broad guy with blue eyes and blond hair, stepped out and extended his hand with a warm smile. “Hey, I’m Blake and you are Evie, right?”
I smiled as I shook his hand. He wasn’t as tall as Xavier but like all rugby players I’d met so far, he was above average. “That’s me. Did Xavier tell you about me?” I hoped he didn’t tell any embarrassing stories.
“No, but everyone knows who you are. Xavier’s victims can’t really fly under the radar.”
“Victim,” I said with a frown. “It’s not like that.”
He shook his head with an embarrassed look. “I mean because you have to work for that slave driver. It can’t be easy.”
I shrugged. “Could be worse.” I didn’t want to talk badly about my boss in front of his teammates.
Xavier finally sauntered out, dressed in dark-blue jeans and a white polo shirt, looking surprisingly dapper. His eyes zeroed in on Blake, who gave him a curt nod before he excused himself.
“What did he want?”
“He introduced himself. Some people have manners, Xavier.”
“Sure. Manners are the reason why guys approach girls.” He slung his sports bag over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows. “Ready, if you are,” he said in the same voice Hannibal Lecter had used in The Silence of the Lambs.
“I love that movie,” I said as I followed Xavier toward his Maserati SUV.
He cocked a dark eyebrow. “You recognized the quote.”
“I’ve watched Silence of the Lambs at least ten times. Of course, I do.”
Xavier held out his keys to me. I stared at them. “You can drive. I want to catch a quick shut-eye.”
I took the keys hesitantly. “The drive won’t take that long. And I’ve never driven on the wrong side before.”
Xavier shook his head. “It’s not the wrong side. It’s the left side, and around here it’s the right side.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are a smart-ass.” I snapped my mouth shut. Evie, he’s your boss, for heaven’s sake!
Xavier’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “Takes one to know one, right?”
“Right,” I said, relieved.
I got behind the steering wheel, swallowing nervously. “It’s a shift.”
Xavier slanted me a look as he leaned back in the passenger seat. “It’s a Maserati, a sports car, of course it’s a shif
t.”
“It’s an SUV.”
“Drive, Evie.”
I turned the ignition and the beast came alive under me with a soft purr. I got used to driving on the left pretty quickly; shifting, however, was a struggle. We arrived eventually, after I’d stalled the engine or mis-shifted about one million times.
“I think in the whole company history of Maserati none of their cars have ever taken longer for five miles,” Xavier drawled before he got out. I unclasped my hands from their tight grip on the leather steering wheel. Cold sweat ran down my back and into my pants. I could only imagine what kind of pictures the paparazzi would take of me today. I needed to change my approach, and my wardrobe, or find a chill pill that worked its magic.
The cold sweat turned into a hot sweatiness when the tailor took Xavier’s measurements in the company’s office in one of the heritage buildings in the Rocks, not too far from Xavier’s apartment.
Xavier was in his Calvin Kleins as a feminine young man measured almost every part of his body. I could tell that there was one part in particular he would have loved to measure as well, but which wasn’t on his list of tasks.
Xavier noticed the admiring glances of the tailor as well and winked at me.
I rolled my eyes as I returned my gaze to the myriad of fabric samples spread out on the table before me. Xavier came up to me once the tailor was done, still only in his Calvin Kleins so his privates were on eye level with my head, which made for a very bothersome distraction.
A few members of the design team soon joined us, and they didn’t seem bothered by Xavier’s almost nakedness. I supposed it happened a lot in the business. Xavier propped his arms up on the table, scanning the samples. “What do you think?”
Surprised, I looked up but quickly put my professional face back on, considering the patterns. I pointed at few uni-colored ones, then at a few more daring patterns and at last at one with red lips all over it.
Xavier smirked. He pointed at a few more, but took every single one I’d suggested.
I had a feeling he and I would get along well.
After four weeks of working as Xavier’s assistant, he and I had fallen into a comfortable routine. I woke him by making excessive noise when entering his apartment so he got the chance to stop banging whoever shared his bed that morning, got him to training in time, which made his coach love me like crazy, took care of his emails and social media, but otherwise stayed in the background. There had been a few more parties Xavier had attended alone, and that had ended in him embarrassing himself by not knowing who he was talking to or offending more people than was acceptable even for him.
I needed to put on my big-girl panties and accompany him to these events to protect him from himself, even if that meant more unfavorable articles. Due to my lack of public appearances, they had been rare, but a few times they had gotten me anyway, and of course they’d always commented on my weight and choice in clothes. Worse was that they had started to bug Fiona. They kept asking her about me or made snide comments that compared her to me. Knowing her, it was only a matter of time before she lost it and caused a Xavier-worthy scandal.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the terrace where Fiona was doing a Pilates sequence for her Instagram followers. The second she was done she turned to me. It was my day off, so I didn’t have to wake Xavier for once.
“No work today?” she asked, surprised. “You’ve worked every single day since you came here.”
“So do you,” I said. Fiona was a total workaholic. She was driven in every aspect of her career; it was admirable, really.
She smiled guiltily. “We could spend the day together?”
“That’s why I’m here. I got my first paycheck from Xavier, and I want to use it to buy new clothes.”
Fiona’s eyes lit up. “You want to go shopping with me?”
“Yeah,” I said hesitantly, regarding her size zero gym leggings. “Don’t get too excited. This girl doesn’t fit into the clothes you love.”
Fiona frowned, crossing her arms. “You are being ridiculous, Evie. You have curves, so what? You’ve got great hips, a big, nicely shaped butt and big tits. You’ve got the golden package if you don’t hide it under boyfriend jeans and ugly T-shirts, or those horrendous old lady blazers. Not every guy wants size zero.”
I stared down at my boyfriend jeans and the loose-fitting blouse. “All right.”
“Let me give your wardrobe a once-over, and the press will shut up once and for all.”
I was wary of Fiona’s idea of a once-over, but she had amazing taste in clothes so I decided to trust her. Still I knew nothing short of a miracle would stop the press from bashing me as long as I was Xavier’s assistant.
Three hours later, more than half of that month’s salary had been invested in new clothes, and none of them were anything like what I’d owned before. Tight pencil skirts, glittery tops, form-fitting dresses. Every piece accentuated at least one of my “big three assets”, as Fiona put it: ass, tits or hips.
On our way home, Fiona’s mobile beeped. She risked a quick peek at it, then frowned. “Connor says Xavier’s coming over for barbecue tonight. We’re supposed to bring everything for a salad and dessert.” Fiona pursed her lips. “Is that okay? Him coming over?”
“It’s your house and Xavier is Connor’s friend, so of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Won’t it be weird to have your boss over?”
I frowned. So far the time Xavier and I had spent together had been strictly work related, but it wasn’t like we usually worked in an office. I woke him, drove him to meetings, filmed his workouts, and catered to his every whim. “I don’t mind. Xavier is funny.”
Fiona slowed the car as she shot me a look. “Funny? Evie.”
“Don’t give me that look. I’m not into him, and he’s definitely not into me, but he’s not hard on the eyes and he’s easy to be around. He doesn’t make my life hell like I expected.”
“Really? That’s not what I heard from his past assistants.”
“I didn’t let him trample over me. I talk back. He seems to enjoy my snarky comments. Maybe he just needs someone who kicks his ass now and then.”
“Maybe.” Suspicion tinged Fiona’s voice.
I decided to put on one of my new outfits. The least extravagant ensemble of the lot, a tight white tank top and jeans that hugged my curves more than my usual chinos or boyfriend jeans. I arranged my hair in soft waves around my shoulder and applied some makeup, then left my room barefooted.
Xavier’s deep voice rang out downstairs, and for some reason I felt suddenly nervous. Putting my big-girl panties on, I walked down the stairs and followed the voices into the kitchen, where I found Xavier and Connor, bottles of that disgusting low-carb, non-alcoholic beer in their hands, and a pile of meat on a tray in front of them.
Xavier brought the bottle to his mouth but paused when he spotted me. His eyes scanned me from head to toe, lingering on all the places Fiona wanted to accentuate. Though, I was fairly sure her intention wasn’t to draw Xavier’s interest toward them.
“Connor! The barbecue started blowing up smoke!” Fiona shouted from outside.
Connor’s gaze darted between Xavier and me, as if he was unsure if he should leave us alone, but at a glare from me he grabbed the tray and hurried outside.
“Hey,” I said awkwardly. Funnily enough, Xavier was wearing a similar outfit to me. Dark jeans and white shirt. “Didn’t know we agreed on matching outfits.”
His mouth tipped up, then his eyes did the quick scan again. “You look better in it than me.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.” A second too late I realized what I had blurted out so carelessly. My God. I hovered in the doorway, unsure of what to do with myself, and worse, how to act around Xavier, especially now that he was giving me such an intense look.
“Kind of strange to have my boss over for dinner,” I rambled, which wasn’t the reason for my sudden awkwardness but Xavier didn’t need to know that.
“I can ask you to make me a coffee if that would make you feel better,” Xavier said, taking a long sip from his beer.
I laughed. “No, thanks.”
He shrugged, grinning. “Let me know if you change your mind. I’ll boss you around whenever you need it.”
“I’m good, trust me,” I said with a grin of my own as I walked into the kitchen and toward the fridge. “Do you want a real beer? The two lovebirds don’t want to ruin their bodies, but maybe you’re up for it.”
“A real beer?”
“Yes, you know, the kind with too many carbs and calories and alcohol in it,” I said with a small shrug. “I don’t follow the same no-carbs routine like most girls.”
Xavier’s eyes slid over my curves, and I had to fight the urge to cover myself. I had chosen this new style, now I needed to own up to it.
“So what about that beer?” I asked, opening the fridge and glancing at Xavier over my shoulder. He was still watching me with a strange expression. It was making me increasingly self-conscious. Beer would definitely help.
“I eat and drink carbs if the occasion requires it, so hit me with your beer.”
“And this occasion requires it?”
“Definitely,” he murmured.
I hid my smile behind the open door as I grabbed two bottles.
My eyes were drawn to Evie’s butt, which she didn’t hide for once. It was round and bigger than that of any girl I’d ever been with, and I couldn’t stop wondering how it would feel to squeeze my cock between it.
“I hope you like craft beer. These are two Indian Pale Ales from a local microbrewery,” Evie’s voice tore me from my inappropriate thoughts. She turned back to me with the bottles. It took me another moment to register what exactly she had said, and then another to trust my ears.
My eyebrows climbed up my forehead. “Okay,” I said slowly. “Those were the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard from a woman.” And I had heard every moan, groan, scream, screech and gasp imaginable.
