Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
He looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
“What?” I raised my brows at him. “When the service and Wi-Fi go out, I’ll be the one who makes my meetings. Watch and see.” There was nothing wrong with organization, especially when I spent all day working with creatives who had none.
If anything, I was making up his deficit.
“Riiight.” He sipped his coffee. “So now that you’ve been torturing me for a week, why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you drew the short straw.”
I blinked. “The short straw?” Every assistant at Berkshire had begged for this job.
“You hate me.” He rubbed his hand over his light beard. He’d stopped shaving three days ago.
“I do not.”
“Liar. You can’t stand to be around me, any more than I can you, so why sign on to be my nanny? You into S&M? Figure a little pain is good for the body, Shannon?”
I bristled at his use of my last name. That was the crap Ben did because he thought it kept his relationships with underlings impersonal, making it easier to fire people. Which he did. A lot. I was the first of Ben’s assistants to have lasted an entire year, and definitely the only one to reach four years.
“Well, Winters, my sexual preferences include anyone who isn’t you, and the rest is none of your business. But since you asked, I was the best option, and I’m dedicated to the band, so here I am.” My sexual preferences hadn’t mattered in the last four years since joining Berkshire Management. It wasn’t like I had a lot of time for a relationship, and I’d never been into one-night hookups, not that he’d understand.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re seriously telling me that you’re putting yourself through all this because you’re dedicated to the band?”
“What would the other reason possibly be?” I stood and gathered my things. So much for having a calm start to my morning. Did he have to throw every single moment into disarray?
“You want something.”
I stilled.
“Nailed it.” He smirked.
“Fine.” I set my things down on the table and crossed my arms. “I have a deal with Ben. Happy?”
“Intrigued, maybe, but not happy. You and happy don’t exactly go together. That’s like throwing SAT prep into the homecoming dance. Then again, I bet you believe I never took the SATs, right? Because you think I’m an irresponsible, egotistical ass who will fuck up the first time he’s left alone for five minutes.” Those intense, show-stopping brown eyes hardened. “Just because it’s a big penthouse doesn’t mean I can’t hear your nightly check-in’s with Ben.”
Heat flooded my cheeks, but I lifted my chin. At least he hadn’t pressed me for details…yet. I’d watched Nixon chew other assistants up and spit them out with a smile over the last four years, and I was not about to add my name to the list—not when I was this close. “You got a thirteen-fifty on the SATs, which got you accepted to the University of Washington.”
He tensed.
“How the hell would you know that?” He set his mug down on the railing so hard I was surprised it didn’t shatter.
“It’s my job to know that, Nixon, and I’m damned good at it. I also know that you were accepted to Carnegie Mellon, Vanderbilt, and USC for music, but you didn’t go to any of them. Why is that?” I’d always wondered.
“Not everyone can afford those schools.” His jaw ticked.
“They can when they’re offered a full ride like you were,” I bit back.
He glared at me.
“Want to know what I think?”
“Sure, since it’s not like I can stop you from telling me anyway.” A muscle in his jaw ticked again.
“I think something—someone—kept you here.” The morning breeze was brisk, but the look in Nixon’s eyes turned downright glacial. “And honestly, that’s none of my business. But don’t, for a single moment, operate under the assumption that I think you’re stupid, because I know better, and you should too. Now, I’m going to go call your producer and stall him yet again, because ignoring someone’s phone call is the kindergarten equivalent of hiding behind your own hand and swearing no one can see you. News flash, Nixon. We all see you.”
I scooped up my planner and phone, turned to walk back into the apartment, then ruined my grand exit by forgetting my coffee. Damn. When I squared my shoulders and retrieved the cup from the table, he arched an eyebrow at me. Busted.
“I’m just saying, maybe we should go for casual Fridays before you run the LOFT completely out of dresses.”
Cue snappy subject change.
I pressed my lips together to keep from sputtering as I turned my back on him and headed into the penthouse. “This dress is from Nordstrom,” I said over my shoulder, “and this is as casual as I’m going to get.” I pointed at my bare feet. “And while yes, you are an irresponsible, egotistical ass, I didn’t say you couldn’t be left alone for five minutes without fucking up.”