Chapter Twenty-One #2
“Dunno. Never seen her around before.”
So it’s a woman. “When did they arrive?”
“Maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago?”
“Ah, jeez. Okay, thanks for the warning,” I say. “I owe you one.”
“Anytime.” His voice is full of sympathy. Anybody who’s worked with Rhys and Finn long enough knows Auric and Elita are trouble.
I stride to the elevator bank and step in. Although there are only three other people in the car, each stop feels painfully slow. Come on. Go faster.
If Auric and Elita are here, that means their assistants Marie and Camilo are here as well. My right foot taps as impatience wrings me out. I should never have left the office. Should’ve told Rhys it wouldn’t kill him to stick to breakroom coffee for the day.
Finally, I’m the only one left in the car. Four more interminable floors, and then the doors open.
The receptionist is slumped in her seat with an expression that screams, Thank God you’re here.
My belly clenches. Breathing deeply, I march toward Rhys’s office, my stilettos hitting the pale gray industrial carpet rapidly.
“Oh—my—gosh!” A tittering laugh.
Shit, shit, shit! rings in my head. I move faster. I can just see Marie covering her mouth and rounding her eyes like saucers. She’s known for her theatrics.
It’s too early in the morning for drama. Please, God! Give me a chance to stop her before she starts!
“I didn’t realize people took their dildos around in public,” she says.
Damn it!
“Oh, much better than a dildo. As for you—it isn’t like anybody can feel it, you being so loose and all.
Heard people can shove a beer bottle inside you and it’d just drop and hit the floor.
Gotta get started with Kegels if you want to hold on to your job.
It isn’t like Auric has any other reason to keep you around. ”
A vein in the back of my head starts throbbing.
This isn’t the kind of “debate” you might expect to overhear at a distinguished private equity and investment firm, but here we are.
Since they aren’t even employees, I can’t get HR involved and wash my hands of it.
As Rhys’s assistant, it’s my job to deal with the idiots who work for his parents, and who are undoubtedly here for… reasons.
I purse my mouth a little. They aren’t scheduled for an appointment. But then, they never bother. They probably can’t make or keep commitments, just like they can’t remember to honor their marriage vows.
“Oh, please. Stop dumping your size issues on me. When a man can’t feel anything, it’s because his dick’s too small, not because the vag is loose. Women snap back, wash after wash. But there’s no salvaging a micro-dick.”
I’m practically running now, although not too fast to avoid spilling the coffees I’m carrying. I step in between the two before Camilo can muster a response full of workplace-inappropriate vocabulary. “Keep your mouths shut until you’re out of the building!” I hiss.
“Max, you know I’m right, don’t you?” Camilo stares at me sweetly, maximizing his hot Latin lover look, complete with bedroom eyes that could make anyone’s heart flutter.
Unfortunately for him, I’m immune to pretty faces after three years with Rhys.
Camilo’s smoldering smirk can’t match Rhys’s octane.
He also needs to buy correctly sized clothes—his overly small shirt is giving him armpit wedgies.
And his pants too. They’ll probably rip apart if he bends more than forty-five degrees.
“She won’t fall for your crass plea,” Marie shoots back, going on tiptoe to sneer at him over my shoulder as she tosses her long brown hair back.
All she needs is a fan blowing it around to complete the effect.
“Us girls stick together.” She pushes out her impressive breasts.
They’re barely contained by a low-cut top, swelling like combers off a tropical beach.
The move is wasted on me. But Camilo’s eyes track them shamelessly. If he drools on the floor, I’m making him lick it up.
“Behave,” I say sternly. “Or I’m calling security.”
“But I’m here with Auric.” Marie pouts.
“Elita would disapprove of your treatment of me,” Camilo adds, giving me a half-playful, half-stern warning. He actually wags a finger at me.
“Sadly for you, I don’t work for either of them.” I give them both a frigid look.
“How come you aren’t mean to her?” Marie says, pointing at a slim blonde in her early forties standing to the side.
I arch an eyebrow. I missed her during the drama, but she hasn’t said a word.
Next to Marie’s sluts-r-us outfit and Camilo’s Casanova-on-clearance clothes, her ebony dress looks almost nunlike, with a high collar and hem that ends an inch above her knees.
Her expression is neutral, except for a pursed mouth that hints at mild disdain for the two.
“Because she isn’t being loud. Or juvenile. Or a nuisance. Like you.” I smile at her, grateful she isn’t as inane as these two, then open the door to Rhys’s office.
Rhys is still at his desk. His parents are seated on the ivory leather chaise longue on the side.
Auric is in a creamy button-down shirt with the top two buttons undone, just enough to reveal the start of his pecs.
His khaki slacks fit him well, showing off his well-maintained physique.
Despite his age, he boasts a lean body. But when you have that much money, guess you have a lot of free time to hit the gym.
He gave his dark hair and blue eyes to Rhys, but none of the refined features.
The refinement came from Elita, who’s a stunner with thick, glossy black hair, bright green eyes and high cheekbones.
Her skin’s baby smooth—probably from cosmetic procedures, but the toned body came from sweat and effort.
Unlike her flamboyant assistant, she prefers classy dresses in vivid shades.
Today’s no exception. An asymmetric dress in magenta pink looks great paired with golden stilettos, which accentuate her tiny ankles.
But the elderly woman sitting in an armchair, looking at Rhys unblinkingly?
Not somebody I’ve met in person, although I recognize who she is from her delicate face, ropey muscles and impeccable posture, including the straight spine.
Sorcha Kingswood, Rhys’s dear grandmother and Auric’s mother.
Auric must’ve gotten his hair from her, because it’s still thick and dark.
Her blue eyes remind me of a huskie, except they’re colder than the Arctic Ocean.
Although she’s slight in stature, she possesses a forceful presence that makes it hard to look away from her.
A royal purple maxi dress drapes over her frame perfectly, and the tips of her flats peek out from under the hem.
Rhys appears relaxed outwardly, but the slight tension around his eyes betrays his annoyance. His parents are known to barge in and cause trouble when they aren’t busy creating another scandal, but his grandmother is new. Maybe the family’s escalating.
Time to redeem myself.
I close the door and cut through the office, walking past Auric, Elita and Sorcha.
After placing the coffee order and the Danish on Rhys’s desk, I turn to his family with a polished, professional smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
“Sorry I don’t have any coffee for you. You should’ve made an appointment if you wanted to talk to Rhys. He’s really busy today.”