Chapter 34
Juniper
Dear Mr. Parker,
I would like to inform you that I am your assistant and not your servant, maid, wanna-be girlfriend...
I stare at the bright screen and press delete rapidly.
That is not the way I want to start this email.
I think for a few moments while staring at the stack of packed manila files on my desk.
There must have been over a hundred files with color-coded stickers on the various pages, beckoning for me to go through them.
There’s also a half cup of black coffee in my Best Daughter Ever mug, which I made without milk or sugar because I’m a masochist. Well, not in a kinky way.
I’m just trying to be health-conscious so that I can lose twenty-five pounds and have glowing skin.
However, I hate black coffee, so most of the beverage is still in the cup, cold and stale, and as such, I’m extremely tired. And when I’m tired, I’m irritated.
My fingers hover over the keyboard, and I start typing again.
Dear Mr. Parker,
I would like to inform you of the job duties on the official paperwork I signed in the HR office when I accepted the position as your legal assistant. Just in case you aren’t aware, those duties don’t include arranging your dates, picking up your dry-cleaning, being your…
I pause as I reread what I’ve written. I’m not sure whether my email comes off as passive-aggressive or if I should even care. I need to be blunt with Remington Parker. The man is insufferable, and I’m not going to let him treat me like a doormat just because he’s my boss.
I can feel myself fuming inside as I think about the list of chores he’s given me in the last few weeks. The fact that I haven’t said anything to him is on me, but I’m no longer going to just nod my head dutifully, like some perfect little housemaid or Stepford wife.
I picture Remington’s face as he reads my email. His brown eyes will crinkle in humor because I know he won’t take me seriously. Then he’ll run his long, tan fingers through his dark, silky hair and chuckle his deep, guttural roar that I would recognize in the dark.
Remington Parker is my boss, the man I love to hate, the man I love to dream about, but he is also the man who inspires characters in the books I write late at night.
You'd think Remington inspired the hero of my story because he is one of the best-looking men I've ever seen in my life.
But unfortunately for him, he's also one of the most infuriating, obnoxious, arrogant pricks I've ever met.
And as such, he is a villain in my latest story. The anti-hero to end all anti-heroes.
Not that he would care that I’d made him a villain more hateful than Voldemort in my latest romantasy book. I wouldn’t tell him, though. It’s not like he asks me about my life outside of work. God forbid he ask if I have any interests other than doing whatever he wants whenever he wants.
It’s obvious to me that he only sees me as some sort of wallflower, there to do his bidding. To him, I’m a robot. I doubt he’s even noticed that I'm a woman. I am just Juniper Hardman, his personal/legal assistant, the invisible pixie making magic happen.
"Juniper, did you send out the roses yet?" The man himself stops by my desk, and I look up quickly, my face going red as I slam the computer screen down. I nod slightly at his question.
Say something, Juniper. Tell him to order his own roses.
Order your own roses, asshole.
“I believe so,” I mumble, and the inner warrior in me screams. Sometimes I hate having an avoidant personality.
His dark eyes stare down at me, and there's a smile on his face as if he is happy to see me, but I know he gives that smile to everyone he comes into contact with.
It's the Remington “I'm too cool for school” Parker smile. It makes you feel like a million dollars, when really, you’re just another link in a never-ending chain.
The thing about Remington is that he’s engaging, witty, and charismatic, and if you didn't know him well enough, you'd think he really cared about you. But the only person Remy really cares about is himself.
"I placed orders for all three of your..." I pause and attempt not to roll my eyes. "Women friends." I nod as he grins. "A dozen roses will be sent to each one of them. Was there anything else you needed me to do before I leave for the day?"
"Yeah, I was wondering if you could see about getting me a reservation for dinner at La Beautiful on Third Avenue next Wednesday evening around 7:00 p.m."
"La Beautiful is one of the most popular restaurants in the city," I say. "It's very unlikely that they have any open reservations for the next few months."
"Ah, but I'm sure you can use your magic and get me a reservation, Juniper." His eyes sparkle, and I wonder how his parents ever said no to him. He’s got such a cute face.
“I don’t have any magic, sir, and I’m not really sure how you expect me to...”
“I know it’s a lot to ask, but Penelope Ridiculo is in town.” He pauses as if waiting for me to gawk in admiration. I stare at him blankly, and he frowns. "You do know Penelope Ridiculo, right?"
"I'm sorry, I don't." Her name sounds ridiculous, though, I think to myself and hold in a snort.
“She’s the Italian actress that took Hollywood by storm last year,” he says, by way of explanation. “She was in that movie, Night Transportation, with—what's his name? Benji Flames."
"I cannot say that I've heard of it or seen it." I shrug. I know Benji Flames and vaguely remember he’s been in a movie with some beautiful actress who had been Miss Universe the year before, but I’m not going to tell Remington I remember that.
He blinks. "You should get out more, Juniper."
"Yes. Well, I seem to always be at work, making appointments for my boss," I say, and he bursts out laughing as if I'm joking.
"Oh, you're funny. You should have your boyfriend or someone take you out to see some movies." He pauses. "Or your girlfriend. Whatever floats your boat."
I press my lips together and nod, but inside, I'm seething.
He doesn't even know me well enough to know whether I am gay or straight.
I'm offended. Not by the fact that he thinks I could be a lesbian, but by the fact that he doesn't know, and he doesn't even care to actually inquire so that he can get an answer.
I am annoyed with this man. "I'll try my best, sir. Is there anything else?"
"No," he says, walking to his office. "I'm going to be heading out in a little bit. I have a partners’ meeting with Max and Gabe. Maybe Kingston, too. He is supposed to be taking Skye to Sweden or something in the next couple of days, so he may not make it."
"Switzerland," I correct him.
He blinks. "What?"
"They're going to Switzerland because she told him she liked Swiss chocolate, and he wanted to get her Swiss chocolate in Switzerland as a special treat."
"Oh, yeah," He shakes his head. "Craziness. I never thought I’d see the day where Kingston Chase acted like a pussycat for a woman.”
“I guess that’s because he loves her.”
“I guess.” He wrinkles his nose. “I can’t believe both Max and Kingston are in relationships now.” He shudders. “Oh, well. At least I know that Gabe and I are heading up the solidly single front in the office.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. Though, technically, you have multiple girlfriends."
"I have zero girlfriends, Juniper. Zero. Remember that." He taps his nose and holds up his fingers in a 0 shape. “I have zero girlfriends.”
"But I just sent three ladies roses."
"Three friends who I occasionally grab lunch or drinks or dinners with." He grins. "I'm a bachelor, a man of the millennium. I cannot focus on just one woman." He pauses and glances down at me, a furrow in his brows. "Wait, does that make me sound like a dick?"
I want to say yes, but I don't. Instead, I just shake my head and grab a handful of files and look down. He grins at me again and runs his fingers through his short dark hair, then straightens his power red tie against his crisp white shirt, while I try not to admire his physique.
I know that he works out every day. I manage his calendar, and I know that he works out every morning for an hour to an hour and a half, and on the weekends, he works out twice a day. He certainly has the physique to prove it. Unlike me, who works out for a week at the beginning of every new year.
Remington Parker is the picture of good shape.
His arms are buff, his chest is ripped, his legs are muscular, and he's more handsome than sin.
He really does have it all, and he can get any woman he wants.
I don't know why that makes me annoyed. It’s not like I want him.
But if I did, it's not like he would ever want me, even if he wasn't as ridiculously handsome and built as he was.
No men look at me. I'm a bit of a plain Jane.
I've been that way my entire life, and, for the most part, I'm okay with it.
Or at least I was. I had my books. My dad. Strawberry ice cream. Now, if I’m being honest with myself, I want more.
And hopefully, soon, I will have more. My coworkers and friends, Lila and Skye, have agreed to give me a makeover, and they are positive that it will change my life. Though I’m not sure I fully believe them.
For once in my life, I want a man to look at me differently. To really see me and find me attractive. Just once, I don’t want to be invisible or the friend they talk to when they're trying to chat up my prettier friends.
I hear my phone beep and look down at the screen and it's my dad. I look over at Remington. "Hey, do you mind if I take this? It's my father, and..."
"Oh, go ahead. Feel free to leave early today, as well. I know you’ve had a long week.” He sounds proud of himself for being generous, though I can see the nervous energy in his stance.