Page 5 of Donut Overthink It

“Yes, sir?” I ask, shaking my head.

“What is wrong with you today?” he demands. “Do I need to send you home…?”

“No, sir.” I fake a yawn when his blue eyes bore into mine. “Just a long night.”

He snorts, not believing the lie, but drops it. He picks up the papers on the corner of his desk. “I need these done by lunch,” he says, placing them in my arms.

I fumble, trying not to drop them since I’m holding my tea in my left hand. My right hand has officially gone numb from my heavy purse hanging from it, cutting off the circulation.

“Noon, sir?” My mouth falls open.

“Did I stutter?” he asks, looking down at me with narrowed eyes.

My jaw tightens. He’s such a wealthy, successful prick! I’m his seventh assistant in the past five months. I heard that Marcy, the one before me, only lasted three hours before she ran out crying and already dialing her therapist number.

“I will have these done for you.”

He pulls his cell out of his pocket and sends a quick text. I blow a few loose strands from my face as I try to juggle everything. If I didn’t need this job so much, I would tell him to go to hell and quit. I needed a job and went through a temp agency. As my luck would have it, I got him as a boss. “You have court in an hour, sir—”

“I’m on my way,” he says again, interrupting me as he often does. “Call Louise and let him know I’m ready.” I nod as he passes me. I get a whiff of his cologne, and I inhale it. He smells so good too. Damn, the man smells delicious. Why are all the hot guys such asses? “And Miss Burns?”

“Yes, Mr. Kyle?” I ask, spinning around too fast to face him at the door, and causing the top papers to slide off the stack in my arms while my hair whips me in the face.

He stares at the papers now scattered on his rug for a few seconds and then back at me.

He’s not gonna help me pick them up.

I try to blow away the hairs sticking to my lip gloss, but it doesn’t work. “Pull your hair up. And find a pair of pumps. We have a dress code for a reason. And not to mention, it looks unprofessional.” Then he walks out.

I walk out behind him and make my way down to my office. I drop off the papers, my tea, and quickly call Louise, his driver. I drop my purse on top of my desk before going back to retrieve the rest of the papers scattered on his office floor. I sit down back in my office and open the envelopes sitting on my desk

AIDEN

“Mr. Kyle. Your brother is on line one …”

“Tell him to call my cell,” I say to Millie, the receptionist at the front desk. “I’m on my way to the courthouse.” She nods and sits back down.

“Hey, Aiden?” Harris, a partner here at the firm and my father’s best friend, calls to me when he spots me walking toward the elevator.

I raise my hand. “Can’t talk right now, Harris.” He frowns but doesn’t try to continue the conversation.

My cell rings in the pocket of my suit jacket, and I answer when I see it’s Asher, my twin brother. “What?” I ask in greeting.

“Where are you?” he demands.

“The office.”

“What the fuck, Aiden? We have court …”

“I know.” I catch sight of Miss Burns walking down the hall from her office to the front desk. Her hands now clear of all the papers I had handed her.

“Good morning, Millie,” she says with a big smile on her face, then like a fucking tease, she leans over the side of the desk. Her white pencil skirt isn’t slutty, by any means, but it shows off everything I want to see. The slit up the back showcases her lean legs covered in sheer black material, and I’ve wondered ever since she started if they’re thigh high or pantyhose.

“Good morning, Hadley. What may I do for you?” Millie asks her.

“I need a hair tie. Do you have one by any chance?” she asks, biting her bottom lip nervously. She knows I’ll be pissed if her hair isn’t up when I arrive back at the office. And the sad part is that I love it down. She always wears it up in a nice tight bun, but right now, her blond hair is down and flows over her back. It honestly looks like she just rolled out of bed with that freshly fucked look. My jaw tightens at the fact that a man was with her last night while I only got to dream about her.

“Yes, ma’am, I do,” she says, picking her purse up off the floor.

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