Chapter 5
Max
Lila is babbling about something in her fake English accent, and the sane part of me knows that I should tell her I've made a mistake. She's far too impertinent and mouthy, and I don’t have time to make her the assistant that I need. I don’t like those qualities in my assistants or my women, not that she will ever be my woman.
I need to get my mind and pants out of the gutter.
I don’t know why I’m so attracted to her. She is not my type whatsoever.
A little birdy sounding just like Marie whispers in my brain that maybe what I need in my life is someone who isn’t “my type,” but I ignore the voice just like I ignore Marie when she talks her nonsense to me in person.
Even though every brain cell in my head harkens to be heard, I ignore the doubts.
I’m normally a smart man who thinks out his every move, but this decision had been impetuous.
Hiring Lila may have been a mistake. Bet or no bet, she is far too distracting, and the fact that we had flirtatious banter is not a good sign.
I do not do flirting, and I sure as shit do not do banter.
Especially not with beautiful, capricious women I just hired to be my new assistant.
“I’m not English,” she says suddenly, flapping her hands around again.
She is far too animated for my liking, but I can’t seem to get angry at her.
“I mean, I daresay I have a relative somewhere from Great Britain, but don’t we all?
” She grins. “Actually, I heard we’re all descended from this one African lady named Alice, I think.
Isn’t that cool? Though kinda creepy, as well.
How can we date at all if we’re all related?
Incest much?” She giggles again, and her hand flies to her mouth.
“Okay, maybe that’s not a funny joke, but—”
“Lila.” I hold my hand up. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I know Kingston is already counting on winning the bet based on their first interaction. “Take a seat and be quiet. I have a call.” She obediently sits down. At least she listens well.
“But what about the coffee?” she whispers, then shrugs as I get ready to make my call.
I turn my back on her, head toward the window, and look down at the line of women, which has now grown even longer.
I wonder why Lila decided not to go through with the audition.
Did she think she wasn’t good enough? I turn around to study her again.
This woman, who has cascaded into my life like an impromptu typhoon, is quite unlike anyone I've ever met.
Women like Lila Haversham do not attend Harvard Law School.
Lila fiddles with her fingers as she sits stiffly in the leather chair opposite my desk.
I can tell by the expression on her face that she's not quite sure what to do.
She's looking down at her lap, probably embarrassed by all the nonsense she's been spilling at me. The call I’m scheduled for seems to be forgotten as I listen to the phone ringing and withhold a deep sigh.
I hate to be left waiting. The call goes to voicemail, and I hang up.
"If you want to go and get that coffee and bagel now, you can," I say, almost casually, but I know there's a command in the stilted manner with which I speak. I need to be alone to think about the decision I've made. I need to decide whether this has been one of the worst mistakes of my life.
She looks up at me, her blue eyes filled with an expression I can't quite read. It's a mix of annoyance and worry. As if she’s pissed off at me. The thought makes my lips twitch. Like she has reason to be annoyed with me.
"So you want me to go and get the bagel and coffee now, after all?" There’s an inflection to her tone that makes me want to spank her, but I don’t think she’s quite ready for that walk on the wild side.
I don’t even think I’m ready for it yet, though I know I could be easily convinced.
“Is that what you’re saying?” The exasperation in her voice is ridiculous, as if she doesn’t understand that this is, in fact, a part of her job.
"I do," I say. "Unless you need to babble on about something else in a bad accent."
She bites down on her lower lip, and I try not to notice how pink and juicy it is.
Something stirs in me, but I ignore it. I know part of the reason I hired her is because she's attractive, but I don't normally hire assistants just because they're attractive.
In fact, I hate to hire assistants based on looks because I don't want there to be any reason, other than they just couldn't cut it, for them to quit or be let go. Most women of a certain age like to shoot their shot with me, and I’m just not interested in mixing business with pleasure, but for some reason, Lila has intrigued me enough to dismiss that concern.
"Are you going now?" I ask her as she stands up slowly. I stare down at the ticking hand on my Rolex, then lean back and gaze at her. Her skirt has ridden up, and if she were to shake once or twice, I’m pretty sure I’d be looking at her shapely ass in her underwear, if she’s wearing any.
Unfortunately, she pulls down her way-too-short skirt and holds her hand out. "Yes. I guess so.”
"You want to shake my hand before you leave or what?"
"The money," she says. "You're going to give me money to buy the coffee and the bagel, right?"
"You don't think I'm good for it?" I smirk and tap my fingers against the solid wood desk. I can’t comprehend why I am playing these games with Lila, but I find that I’m enjoying myself.
"Well, I don't really know you like that," she says, shrugging, and I can't stop myself from laughing at the face she makes. “I’ve watched enough Judge Judy episodes to know that you don’t go spending your own money without a contract.”
"Really, Lila Haversham? You don’t think you can trust me for a five-dollar coffee and bagel?"
"I don't know any bagels with lox and cream cheese that cost five dollars.” She wrinkles her nose. “Or perhaps this is an alternate reality, and we’re not in 2024, and this isn’t New York City.”
“What reality would you like us to be in?” I wonder if she’ll say the Stone Age. I wouldn’t mind picking her up over my shoulder and carrying her into my cave. She brings out the alpha male in me, that is for sure.
“Hmm, maybe in the future, like 2200, where we all fly in cars and men feed me all day.” She giggles, and I realize I quite like the sound. It’s feminine and sweet and authentic. Much like her. The thought baffles me. I’ve never been drawn to a woman like this before.
“So, are you going to give me money?” She clears her throat.
“Because you're an attorney whose name is on the door, and I am an assistant.
I don't even know if my official title is legal assistant or personal assistant," she says, blinking at me as if the differentiation matters tremendously. "Which one am I?"
"If you keep this up, you're not going to be either. At least not for me." I give her a pointed glance and rub my stomach. “Do you want this job?”
"Please don't fire me," she mumbles. "It really wouldn't make me feel good to get fired on my first day. Especially as it hasn’t even been ten minutes since I got the job." She pauses. "Well, maybe it's been twenty minutes. I don't know exactly. I’m bad with timeq"
I continue staring at her without saying a word.
"You're going to fire me, aren't you?" She sighs deeply and rubs her forehead. "Look, I know I'm not the ideal assistant or the best paralegal in the world, and I talk too much, but I am a quick learner, and I really need this job."
"You're not the best paralegal or assistant in Manhattan. In fact, you're not the best assistant in this building. Maybe I made a mistake in hiring you so quickly." I will not tell her that I never would have hired her if it hadn't been for the bet.
"I get it," she says, taking a step closer to me. "But you're the one who hired me knowing that I'm an actress, or wannabe actress, and I’m guessing that was because you saw my potential." Her eyes are beseeching as she pleads with me.
"Potential for what?" I let out a long sigh. “I mean, if you were really serious about becoming an actress, wouldn't you have gone to the audition?"
"So, you're judging me now? You're saying that I gave up before I even started?"
"I didn't say that."
"But that's what you're thinking."
"No, I think that's what you're thinking," I counter. "Why didn't you go to the audition? You came all this way across town for it. Right?"
She nods slowly. "I couldn't cry," she finally says.
"What?"
"I couldn't cry." She sighs. "One of the lines, you have to be really emotive and cry, and I couldn't get the tears out.
It was like I'd never experienced heartbreak or hurt in my life.
And trust me when I say I have experienced heartbreak and hurt.
In fact, I was dating this guy that…" She pauses.
"I guess you don't really want to know about him. "
"Unless you're going to tell me some exciting story about how you were dating a dominant, and you were submissive, and it’s a scintillating story, then no, I don’t care to hear about it."
"What?" she says loudly, her hand clasping over her mouth a moment later.
"Why are you looking shocked now, Lila?" My patience is leaving me.