Page 24 of The Billionaire Alpha's Assistant

Chapter Nine

Alex

By eleven o’clock,the house is quiet. After cleaning up Thanksgiving dinner, Jake, Elena, and I lazed around nursing our food-babies before returning to our rooms. I binged three episodes of House Hunters while contemplating going to sleep, but I’m not at all tired.

Snow is falling lightly outside my window, and I’m starting to get hungry again. That’s the problem with eating Thanksgiving at three p.m. It’s not really lunch or dinner.

Pulling a light robe on over my nightgown, I slip out of my room with the intention of grabbing a midnight snack. I can hear breathy moans coming from Jake and Elena’s room across the hall, and I stifle a snort as I tiptoe down the stairs.

All the lights are off on the first floor, apart from the faint glow emanating from the kitchen. Rounding the corner, I’m surprised to find Rafael leaning against the island with a cereal bowl in hand.

He’s wearing jeans but no shirt, and holy hell. If I thought life was unfair before, it’s nothing compared to how I feel now.

I’m staring at a literal eight-pack connected to the most gorgeous man-chest I’ve ever seen. The broad shoulders that filled out a suit so well are now on full display, leading down to a pair of defined biceps and beautiful tan arms. I long to run my hands along the smooth planes of Rafael’s chest, across his collarbone, and down the hard ridges of his abs.

I’m so distracted by a shirtless Rafael that it takes me a minute to notice what he’s eating. A box of Cocoa Pebbles is open on the counter.

If my jaw wasn’t already on the floor, it sure as hell would be now.

“Hey,” I say, pulling my robe more securely around me and flushing all the way to my hairline. I didn’t think anyone would be down here. My nightgown only goes midway down my thigh, and I’m not wearing a bra.

Rafael’s eyes go wide when he sees me, and he makes a strangled choking sound before swallowing his mouthful of cereal. “What are you doing down here?”

“I, uh —”

“Not that you shouldn’t be,” he adds quickly. “I just mean . . . I thought you were asleep.”

“Nope. I was hungry.” I purse my lips and shift my weight from one foot to the other. There’s nothing more awkward than running into your boss in your nightgown, except running into the boss that finger-fucked you on his desk the day before. “What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Rafael mutters. “Not with my sister and Jake . . .” He trails off, and I have to squeeze my lips together to hold back a laugh.

“I guess that would keep you up.” I sidle over to the island and look pointedly at the box of Cocoa Pebbles. “Never pegged you for a chocolate-cereal guy.”

“No?” Rafael scrunches his eyebrows, and I can’t tell whether he’s offended or if he’s just messing with me.

I shake my head. “Nah. I figured you’d go for some protein if you were craving a midnight snack, Mr. I-have-eight-percent-body-fat.”

Rafael rolls his eyes, but a grin is working at the corner of his mouth. The sight steals the air from my lungs. “It’s my stress snack, if you must know. And Cocoa Pebbles is gluten- and dairy-free.”

I sigh. “Vivian could have mentioned that.”

He lets out a short bark of laughter, and I try not to stare at his gorgeous tan pecs. “I’ve just been thinking about the whole HealthyU cancer-patient debacle. This isn’t the last time something like this is going to happen, and I need to respond the right way.”

“You will,” I say, turning to face him and leaning my hip against the counter. “Just . . . be human. Don’t worry about what big clients you could lose or what the backlash might be. She was somebody’s daughter . . . somebody’s sister. Fiancé. Think about what you would want someone to say if she was a member of your family.”

Rafael shakes his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It can be.”

“You don’t get it.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, here we go . . . Everyone else is incompetent. You have to micromanage everything yourself, or the whole company might implode.”

“I do not micromanage.”

“Eh, you kind of micromanage. That’s why you want everyone to give you a full report every freaking morning.” I shrug. “You don’t trust other people to do their jobs.”

“That’s not true.”

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