Chapter 7
7
KYLIE
S ometimes, I wonder if the man even wipes his own ass. It’s quite possible he hires someone to do that for him as well.
Here I am, canceling yet another date for him. Do these women have no self-respect? They are willing to go out with a man who has his assistant be the one communicating with them.
I thought he showed a morsel of decency when he took me to the airport to learn more about the industry. But he went right back to being a pain in the ass.
It’s been two weeks since we went to the airport.
I’ve come to notice some consistencies in his schedule. He never shows up late or leaves early. He is a total loony about his coffee. He treats his dates like employees. And he always has Thursday evenings blocked out on his calendar.
It’s the one thing he does on his own, and he never gives me a clue as to where he goes.
I’ll bet it’s one of those exclusive sex clubs where he can do some kinky shit to a complete stranger. Or maybe I’m just thinking that because of the book I’m reading.
I have one obsession in life, and that’s reading dirty romance books. My favorite bookstore is over in Brooklyn, called The Ripped Bodice. As soon as I turn the corner on 5th Avenue and see the pink storefront, my body explodes with excitement.
I’ve basically been a mother since I was sixteen, so dating has been out of the question. Even if I want to date, I don’t have family to watch my brother. Angela has been a huge help the last couple of years, but I only use her when I absolutely need to. Any other time feels like taking advantage of her generosity.
I suppose he’s old enough now to be on his own at home, but my main focus is just working nonstop to make ends meet. I don’t have time to find a date. That means, at the age of twenty-one, I’m still a virgin.
I’ve had one kiss in my life, and that was when I was sixteen and my parents were still alive. Before I needed to think about anything besides the cute boy who sat next to me in Algebra.
I look up from my computer and see Mr. Monroe through the door to his office. He’s glaring at me from his desk. He raises his hand and motions for me to come in with his finger. If it wasn’t terrifying, it would be kind of sexy. The man looks especially good today in his dark blue suit and brown belt. His dark hair, which was styled perfectly in the morning, is now slightly disheveled on top from all the times he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“What can I do for you?” I ask as I walk into his office.
He leans back in his chair and eyes me up and down. My body squirms under his intense inspection.
“You can explain to me how you managed to score a position as my assistant with no college degree and zero work experience.”
My chest tightens, making it hard for me to breathe. A lump forms in my throat, speech feeling impossible.
“You looked at my résumé,” I whisper.
“Yes, I did. Take a seat,” he barks at me.
My legs feel like they weigh a ton. I take heavy steps until I manage to take a shaky seat in front of him.
“Tell me, what’s your angle? Is someone paying you to get closer to me? Are you involved in something illegal?” His deep voice is filled with anger.
I forget who I’m talking to and raise my voice. “What? Are you crazy? There’s no angle!”
“Then how the hell did you get this job? This is my company, Miss Ricci. I know how rigorous our interview process is. There is no way someone with a GED and no higher education would land a job here.”
Ouch. That hurts. His words cut me like glass.
“Some of us might not have had the luxury of growing up as privileged as you did. I might not have a decorated résumé like you, but I’m smart, and I work hard. And as for getting this position, I’m apparently the only woman in the city your staff could find who wasn’t impressed with your money or good looks. And now that I’ve met you, your personality isn’t very impressive either.”
Should I have said it? No. Is it true? Yes. The man is insufferable. Nothing pleases him, and he’s always in a sour mood. If I had the kind of money he did, I’d have no reason to hate the world and everyone living in it.
He watches me for a long time in silence. Leaning back in his chair, he brings his hand to his face and runs it along his jaw.
I suddenly get an image of what it would feel like to have his stubble against my most intimate areas. I’ve read about it in books. While we’re at it, I wonder what it would feel like in general to have someone go down on me. The women in my books seem to love it.
This isn’t the first time I’ve thought the man was going to fire me. If he does, so be it. It’s out of my control if he thinks I’m suddenly unqualified for this position.
“I see. So, you have no interest in making me fall in love with you to get your hands on my money?”
He asks the question like it’s unfathomable. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at how cocky the man is.
“No, I have no interest in your money. If it comes with you on the side, I’ll have to pass.”
A smirk actually spreads across his face. I’ve never seen the man smirk before. It actually makes him appear semi-human-even sexy.
Ugh, I hate that there’s a part of me that is attracted to him.
“I see. While I’m not impressed with your résumé and I normally hold this company and its employees to a high standard, I am pleased with the work you’ve done so far. You’ve shown your dedication to learning the ins and outs. And for having no prior experience, you’ve caught on rather quickly. Plus, it has been a nice break, not having to reject any advances from my assistant.”
“Sooo, you’re not firing me?” I ask, needing clarification.
“I’m not firing you,” he replies with little enthusiasm. “Today.”
“Thank you, Mr. Monroe.”
I barely make it to my desk before I sigh in relief. I’ve been here for a month, and I have been so close to being fired that I’m starting to get used to coming into the office with a ball of nerves.
The man is a ruthless businessman, but I wonder if he has a heart in there somewhere. He did just cut me some slack and keep me on board. Never mind. I’m talking crazy. He only let me stay because I don’t fawn all over him.
Between him berating my every move or demanding I remake his coffee so it’s at the perfect temperature, I can’t imagine fluttering my eyelashes at the man.
“Kylie, I’m heading out for a couple of drinks with friends. Can you please make sure that budget spreadsheet is finished before you leave?”
He can’t be serious. It’s going to take me a couple more hours, and it’s already five. He raises his eyebrows at me, daring me to say what I’m really thinking. Ugh, he knows I need this job.
“Of course, sir. I’ll make sure it’s done.”
“Good. Email it to me when you’re finished. I’ll take a look at it when I get home tonight. I have to approve it by tomorrow, so I need it completed.”
He walks out without a second glance. Not even a thank-you for staying late and working on this when everyone is already leaving for the day.
It’s been hours, and I’m about to pull out my hair. The stupid budget categories are not matching the total budget, and I’m at my wit’s end.
My phone buzzes on my desk.
Unknown: Are you still at the office?
I roll my eyes. Great, the man has my phone number now. This is the start of a never-ending stream of demands at all hours.
Me: Yes, Mr. Monroe. I’m still at the office.
And I’m about to trash your office and leave my letter of resignation on your desk.
Unknown: Good. I’m at The Carnegie Club in Midtown. I forgot my laptop. Can you bring it to me in the next hour on your way home?
So, he’s just assuming that I’ll be ready to leave in the next thirty minutes in order to get him his damn laptop? What a freaking self-entitled prick! I’m guessing the thought never even crossed his mind that he could come back to the office himself.
I think I need a mantra to repeat under these circumstances, so I don’t quit. Like how Emily Blunt’s character in The Devil Wears Prada recites how much she loves her job over and over.
Mine needs to be along the lines of not murdering my boss because I’ll end up in prison.
For now, I take a deep breath and remember that Benny has been loving his speech therapy appointments. Ones that I cannot afford without this job.
Me: Sure thing, boss.
There’s no way I will be done with this project in the next half hour. I should just get his laptop to him now, then come back.
Poor Benny will be going to bed without me in our apartment. With my massive first two paychecks, I’ve already started looking at nicer neighborhoods. If I’m going to be working these kinds of hours, I need to get us in a safer building. One with some kind of security at the front would be preferable.
I’m standing just outside of the club with his laptop as I type out a text to him. Before I know it, the man at the front door is motioning for me to come in and leading me through the crowd.
I’ve never been in a place like this. It’s like I’ve stumbled back into the 1950s. The walls are made out of rich wood paneling. There are leather chairs and ornate bookshelves, creating a warm, sophisticated environment. People are everywhere, smoking cigars and drinking fancy-looking cocktails.
I’m led to a corner of the room with leather couches and a wooden coffee table. Several insanely good-looking men are all dressed in business suits, drinking scotch. I spot Mr. Monroe at the end of the couch directly to my left. He has some beautiful brunette sitting next to him, batting her eyelashes and sticking out her chest.
Ugh, get over yourself, lady. Is that all you think you have to get his attention—a massive chest and fluttering eyes?
The guy sitting on the other end of the same couch leans back and says something to him that makes his head fall back with laughter. I nearly lose my breath at how gorgeous he looks, laughing so casually.
Gone are his jacket and tie. The man is in a crisp white shirt-the sleeves rolled up. They show a beautiful set of forearms—that must be what the writers of my books mean when they say arm porn. His expensive watch just adds to how wealthy and suave he looks right now.
He finally looks over at me, and his eyes do a double take before they turn dark and intimidating. He looks almost angry at my presence, which is odd because he clearly had someone walk me back here.
His eyes settle on my chest, which is when I realize my mistake.
Knowing I was the last one in the office, I ripped off my blouse and never put it back on. I’m standing in front of everyone in my tight skirt and lacy black bodysuit. My breasts are popping out of the top.
“Kylie,” he says in a harsh tone, “what are you wearing?”
“Um, I was getting hot at the office, so I took my blouse off. I completely forgot about it.”
The rest of the men he is with are now looking over at me curiously. My body trembles under the attention of such attractive men.
“Well, I would advise you to check that you’re properly dressed next time. It’s not very appropriate for my assistant to be walking around, dressed like that.”
“I see. But it’s appropriate to ask your assistant to work late by herself while you go out for drinks, then proceed to make her walk the streets of New York City alone to get you your laptop, which you forgot?”
His friends fail at holding in their laughter, which makes him appear even more pissed off. Fuck, I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut around this guy. I’ve never had an issue speaking so openly to my bosses before. He just brings it out in me.
“I think she has you there, Lin.” The man sitting on the couch with him laughs. “I can’t believe you asked her to drop your laptop off at a bar when she was already working late for you. Last time I checked, you had two functioning legs that could walk your privileged ass to your office.”
I try to bite back my smile, but it’s useless. I like his friends. It’s refreshing to see him around people who aren’t afraid to put him in his place.
I worry he’s going to go apeshit on all of us, but he surprises me by offering a playful punch to his friend before looking back at me. I’m not granted the same response.
“He does bring up a good point about walking alone at night. How are you getting home? Are you calling a cab?”
“I have to go back to the office. I’m not done with the spreadsheet. After that, I’ll just take the subway back,” I tell him as I hand him his laptop. “I’ll see you in the office tomorrow.”
I turn around and walk out of the bar, leaving him behind to enjoy the attention from his woman friend, who I will likely have to send flowers to tomorrow or contact to set up a dinner with him.
Ugh, he is the worst.
The summer breeze hits my skin as I walk out onto West 56th Street. It’s already almost eight, and I still have to get back to the office. I wonder if Mr. Monroe ever considers the fact that there are never any other assistants working the hours that he makes me work. Granted, he is the CEO, but it still seems unreasonable.
A hand lands on my arm, and I turn around, ready to nail the person in the groin when I’m met with those familiar, dark eyes.
I gasp. “Mr. Monroe, what are you doing?”
His eyebrows turn down. “I’m going back to the office with you. I can’t let you take the subway alone after work. Not when it’s this late.”
I roll my eyes. “I do it all the time.”
I spin back around and walk away from him, but he matches my stride.
“That doesn’t make it any safer,” he says firmly.
“Oh, please. Just because your friend called you out doesn’t mean you actually care about what happens to me.”
“Despite what you may think, I’m not a monster. I might have overstepped tonight with my request. And, no, I didn’t consider your safety, which makes me a bit of a dick. But at least I’m rectifying that by walking you back.”
“So, what you’re saying is, you’re not a monster, but you are kind of a dick?” I ask with amusement.
He chuckles next to me. “I wouldn’t say that was the main point I was trying to make, but if it makes you feel better right now, yes, I did say some version of that.”
We walk in comfortable silence while the hustle and bustle of New York surrounds us. There’s something about this city. It’s like even when you’re alone, you’re never really alone. It’s comforting to someone like me, who has been alone most of her life.
When we get to the office building, I open the door but stop in my tracks when I realize he’s following me in. I don’t want him waiting for me to get my work done just to make sure I get home safe after.
“Thanks for walking me here, but I’m okay now. You don’t have to come with me.”
“I don’t mind,” he says as he continues forward with his hands in his pockets.
I don’t know if it’s because it’s after hours or because he has a couple of drinks in him, but he seems so much more laid-back. When we get into the elevator together, I realize I’ve never been in such a small space alone with him.
His presence is so large that it feels like we’re on top of each other. It’s dangerous, being around this man when he lets go a bit. His looks are that much more powerful. Not that I would ever let anything happen between the two of us.
When I’m ready to be with someone, it’s going to be with someone with a heart.
The elevator doors open, and he pushes off the wall, then proceeds down the hallway to his corner office. I follow him into his office, not sure why he’s taking his suit jacket off and getting comfortable.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I watch him unbutton his sleeves again and roll them back up. I do my best not to study his arms any further.
“I’m helping you with the spreadsheet. It’s late, and I still need to review it. Might as well knock it out together.”
“You aren’t mad that it’s not done yet?”
“There’s no point in getting mad. I just want it done.”
“You know, I would’ve had it to you by the time you got home if you hadn’t interrupted me.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “How about you just accept my help and we go over it together without a fight?”
I worry my lip, caught between not wanting to accept his help after how he treated me tonight and the desire to get it done quickly and get home. I notice his eyes are watching my mouth closely. For a moment, something unreadable flashes across his face.
I can’t shake the feeling that he’s looking at me in a different light. His eyes then roam down to my chest, where I realize I’m still in my bodysuit, the black lace outlining my cleavage. When his eyes meet mine, he realizes he was caught staring.
“Right,” he says in a thick voice. “Let’s get started.”