Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
E lisabetta
I feel slightly annoyed as I sit at the desk, waiting for Liam to bring me a laptop, but not only do I feel slightly annoyed, I also feel horny as hell, which is not a great feeling on your first day of work. I sneak a furtive look back at Liam, but he’s not paying any attention to me. He's typing something on his phone, and I can tell it must be something serious based on the frown on his face. I turn back and look down the hallway. I'm bored as hell. I don't know what I'm doing here. I don’t know what I thought I had to prove, but I have a feeling I made a mistake. I whip out my phone and go to text Skye when I realize I have missed a call from her, so I call her back.
“Hey, my lovely,” I say as she answers the phone, grateful to hear her voice.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“I’m just sitting here doing nothing, working for the devil himself.”
“Oh, no. Has he been mean to you already?”
“Let’s say that he hasn’t been mean so much as he’s been a tease.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean, he’s trying to tease me into submission.”
“Into submission?”
“Yeah, he wants me, and I want him, and we’re going to play a game of cat and mouse until one of us gives in.”
“Um, what are you talking about?”
“I'm saying that there is a sexual tension between us that is going to explode, yet neither one of us wants to be the one to go for it first.”
“Elisabetta, are you okay? Are we in the same universe right now?”
“Yes,” I say giggling. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re talking about getting down and dirty with Liam, and I'm just asking you how your first day of work is. I’m telling you that you’ve only been there for an hour. What do you mean you’re trying to get down and dirty?”
“He and I have both made it obviously clear that we’re sexually attracted to each other.”
“On your first day, in the very first hour that you’ve been working there?”
“Girl, no. This is something we’ve known. I mean, we’ve had a couple of calls, and?—”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about the call you had. I just am kind of taken aback by everything. Is that why you took the job?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Did you take a job as his assistant so that you could have sex with him?”
“What? Are you crazy? No, of course not.”
“Okay, I was just checking.”
“Would I take a job with a boss who’s been absolutely horrible to you just so that I could seduce him and handcuff him to his chair and leave him there for the world to see so that he can be embarrassed?”
“Oh, my gosh. Elisabetta, you wouldn’t!”
“Of course, I wouldn’t. I would never do something like that. I’m far too sweet and innocent.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re totally going to fuck him and then handcuff him to the desk. Why?”
“I would do no such thing. I mean, maybe I wouldn't, maybe I would. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Elisabetta, you did not take this job just so you could have sex with that man.”
“Why do I feel like that is a question that could come back to haunt me in a court of law?”
“You’re goofy.”
“I know.”
“Anyway, I have a question for you.”
“What's the question?”
“How many words per minute does a reasonable person type?”
“What do you mean by reasonable?”
“I mean, someone like me.”
“Someone like you in your capacity as Elisabetta, daughter of a millionaire, or in your capacity as Elisabetta, assistant to Liam Gallagher, the CEO of a billion-dollar company.”I cock my head to the side to assess her body language and she looks mighty uncomfortable. I suppress a grin as I don’t want her to realize how amusing I find this conversation.
“Okay, maybe the latter.”
“Um, I'm guessing he’d expect you to have something like eighty to ninety words per minute if you were a true professional.”
“Eighty to ninety words per minute? Shit.”
“What, is that too much?”
“Girl, I told him I could do two hundred words per minute.”
“You what?” She bursts out laughing. “Elisabetta, are you freaking kidding me right now?”
“No, he said he wanted to give me a test, and he said he didn't think I could do a hundred, so I said, ‘Actually, I can do two hundred.’”
“Girl, I’m your best friend, and I love you, but there’s no way on God’s green earth that you can type two hundred words per minute.”
“You don’t know that. Trust me, I’m pretty confident, but maybe?—”
“But maybe nothing. Girl, I only do seventy words per minute, and that's an 80 percent accuracy.”
“Oh, shit,” I say.
“What now?”
“I also said—rather he said that I need to be a hundred percent accurate.”
“Oh my gosh. You said that you could type two hundred words per minute with a hundred percent accuracy?”
“I mean, that’s not unheard of is it?”
“I've never heard of it. What are you going to do?”
“I mean, nothing right now. He said he’s getting a laptop so he can give me the test.”
“Oh my gosh. You know you’re going to fail.”
“You think so?”
“Yes, I know so.”
“Shit, no wonder he was being so cocky.”
“What do you mean?”
“He said to me when I failed, he wasn’t going to allow me to give him a blow job to keep my job.”
“Girl, you’re going to have to get down on your knees and do way more than just a simple blow job.”
“Very funny.”
“I mean, he has to know there's no way you can type that fast. it’s just not reasonable to think anyone could do that, certainly not you, who he knows is not a real assistant.”
“True, so why on earth is he giving me this test?”
“I don't know, maybe to assert his dominance over you?”
“You know he’s never going to be able to assert his dominance over me. Does he know who I am?
“I mean, my guess is not really. He probably just thinks that you’re my former roommate who has a rich dad, but does that mean he knows that you’re super rich and that your dad may or may not be part of the mafia?”
“Or that my dad wants to marry me off this summer?” I sigh. “Ugh, what am I going to do, Skye?”
“What do you mean, what are you going to do? I thought you were excited for the party.”
“I was excited when I wasn't actually thinking about what it really entailed. I don't want to marry some random man and leave New York and possibly be a mafia wife. I'm not built for that life. I mean, even if my dad is a mafia boss, he didn’t train me in the mafia ways. I don’t know anything. I don't want to wake up and find a dead horse’s head on my bed or any shit like that.”
“I shouldn't laugh, but that’s kind of funny.” Skye giggles loudly.
“That’s not funny. It's gross.”
“I know, it's totally gross. Shall we watch The Sopranos to get you in the right headspace?”
“What?” I say.
“Remember, you said you wanted to watch The Sopranos so that you would be prepared if we did find out your dad really is a mafia boss.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess it sounded like a good idea at the time. Are you sure you still want to watch it with me?”
“Yeah, we can have a Sopranos party and invite all the girls.”
“That sounds fun.”
“Oh, guess who’s going to be in a fashion show?”
“Romeo.”
“Oh my gosh, how did you know?”
“Because Romeo’s the only person we know who would love to be in a fashion show.”
“What are you trying to say, Skye? I’m not cool enough?”
“You are, but you would never do one.”
“True.” I hear the door opening behind me. “Uh-oh, got to go,” I say as I hang up quickly. I put the phone on the desk and look back. Liam is scowling at me.
“Were you just on the phone?”
“Um…”
“You were just on the phone, weren’t you?”
“I mean, if you already know the answer to the question, why are you asking me?”
“You're not meant to be taking personal calls while you’re at work.”
“Who says it was a personal call?” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Are you giving me sass?”
“I'm not giving you anything. Where's the laptop? What do you expect me to do? Just just sit here and twiddle my thumbs?”
“I expect you to think about how you're going to pass this typing test knowing that it’s very unlikely that you are going to be able to fulfill the requirements.”
“We both know that I'm not going to type two hundred words per minute.”
“So is this your way of telling me that you’re going to fail the test?”
“This is my way of telling you that I think it’s absolutely ridiculous that you’re going to have me take a typing test when we both know full well that I'm not going to be the fastest typer on God’s green earth.
“Okay.” He smirks. “So, you can’t type two hundred words per minute.”
I lick my lips. “There are many things that I can do well, but typing is not one of them. If you would like to fire me, then please, go ahead.”
“What, you’re not going to offer to blow me first?”
“You wish.”
He grins. “You know what? Maybe I kind of do, but now is not the time. Come on, let's go.”
“What do you mean, let’s go? Where are we going?”
“We are going to a meeting.”
“What meeting?
“You’ll see.”
“Um, am I meant to bring anything with me? I don’t even have the laptop.”
“No. For now, you’ll just sit there and observe.”
“So... that’s it?” I frown. “What about the typing test? What about?—”
“You just admitted to me you can’t type two hundred words per minute and that you're probably not a good typist, so I shouldn't even give you the test. I like it. You’re becoming more…” He pauses. "You know what? Let me not say the word. I don’t want to get you angry at me again.”
“I've never been angry at you. I just like putting you in your place.”
“I'm sure you do.You know, I may have gotten you wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I used to think that you were a submissive little one, but I have a feeling that you’d be quite dominant. Give us a chance.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I think that you would love to dominate me, wouldn’t you?”
“Not particularly.”
“You’re telling me that you wouldn’t like to handcuff me to the bed and then drip candle wax on me and whip me?”
My jaw drops. How does he know that I was thinking about handcuffing him? Is he just psychic? “By the way, the phone on your desk…” He nods.
“Yeah?”
“When I press a button in my office, I can hear everything that’s being said out here.” I lick my lips slowly.
“Um, okay, and…?”
“So you’re not going to have the opportunity to handcuff me to the desk and leave me sitting there.” He grins, and my heart flutters. I should not be enjoying this conversation as much as I am.
“Sorry about that.” I blink at him. “I wasn't planning on?—”
“I heard everything you said, Elisabetta.”
“Well, then you’ll know that?—”
“I know that we’re both on the same page. This is a game of cat and mouse, and you’re right, I'm not going to pounce on you; however, I do think that you will pounce on me the first chance you get.”
“You're acting like you think I want you that badly.”She throws her head back, narrows her eyes and lets out a high-pitched laugh.
“No, I'm acting like I know you want me that badly. I'm acting like I know that you played with yourself last night, and you thought about me.”
“You wish. You were the one jacking off this morning, thinking about me.”
“Wow. Do you have a camera in my shower? Did you hear me calling out your name?”
I gasp.“What? I'm not going to deny it. I did pleasure myself this morning thinking about you.”
“I only hope that the experience will be just as enjoyable when it’s for real.”
“I don’t even know what to say. I think that you’re absolutely ridiculous. I think?—"
"You think what, Elisabetta? Because you know what I think?” he says, pulling me toward him.
“No.” I swallow hard. Why is this man so sexy? Why does his behavior do things to me?
“I think that we should get to know each other a little better. We’ll go to this meeting, and then we’ll get lunch, and then we’ll figure out the course of action for the next couple of weeks.”
“What do you mean, the course of action for the next couple of weeks?”
“I mean, you may be useless as an assistant, but I'm still going to need you to do work.”
“I’m not useless as anything,” I say through gritted teeth. “Just because I've never been an assistant before doesn’t mean that I don't know what I'm doing. I may not be able to type two hundred words per minute, but that doesn’t mean I’m not fucking amazing at everything else. It doesn’t mean that you're not going to be absolutely delighted at all the work I can do for you.”
He stares at me and nods slowly."I truly believe that you think that’s true.”
“I do. Anyway, I have a question for you.”
“And your question is?”
“If you’re so demanding, and if you’re such a hot shot, then why didn’t you bring whatever assistant you have in the UK with you? Why doesn’t she travel everywhere with you?”
He looks at me thoughtfully. “Good question. But just because you ask a question doesn’t mean I have to answer it.”
“Don’t tell me, she left.”
“What makes you believe that my assistant back home is a woman?”
“I don't know. You just seem like the sort of man that likes eye candy around him.”
“So, you’re saying that you believe you’re eye candy?”
“I'm saying that I know I'm attractive, and I know you’re attracted to me. Does that make me eye candy?”
“I don't know. I'd like to think of women as intelligent, thoughtful beings. I don't like to think of them as eye candy. You know?”
“Oh, cry me a river. Don’t tell me that you’re going to be all PC now.”
“What? You don’t want me to be PC?”
“I’m saying that I think that you are being absolutely—” I pause and shake my head.
“Look, I don't know what’s going on here. I don't even know why you hired me, really. I don't think it’s about the sex at the end of the day because we could have had this flirtation outside of the office. So, exactly what is going on here?”
He frowns for a couple of minutes."I don't know what you’re talking about. You’re the one that asked to work for me, remember?”
“No, I didn’t ask to work for you. You wanted Skye, Lyla, or Juniper to work for you. In fact, you said they were the only ones you would allow to work for you as you didn’t want to hire another assistant. So, I volunteered to take their place even though I didn't want or need this job.”
“And I think you’re talking too much, Elisabetta. If I hired you for your mouth, I'd have you doing other things. You know what I mean?”
I’m furious at his comment, but I don't say anything.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” he says, looking me up and down.
“I hope you can walk far in those shoes.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ll be walking.
“You don’t have a car that can take us where we’re going?”
“I do, but where we’re going, it is best not to show up in a car.”
I blink at him."Where the hell are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
We head towards the elevator and wait silently. We step inside, and he presses the button to take us to the ground floor. He looks me up and down for a couple of seconds and then says something that shocks and surprises me. “I want you to know that whatever else you have going on in your life, I don't want this to be the most difficult part. I hope you know this is all fun and games. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please, you must leave my employ.”