Page 10 of Don't Quit the Day Job

The sneer and disdain on his face make me want to ask him why he hired me in the first place, but I don’t want to push my luck. Besides, I don’t even care. The pay sounds amazing, and right now, money is all that matters.

As soon as I get my big break, I’ll be able to tell Max Spector where he can stuff his everything bagel. I bet his eyes won’t be so sparkling then.

“Yes, sir,” I say in my best Cockney accent while giving him a small curtsey. “Is there anything else, sir? Shall I clean your shoes before I go as well? Or perhaps you would like a massage?” I rush over to the desk and stand behind him and squeeze his broad, firm shoulders. He tilts his head to look at me and the expression on his face makes me swallow hard. Max Spector doesn’t look upset, like I’d expected. In fact, he looks amused and, if I am reading his face correctly, he also looks turned on.

Shit! I’m in trouble.

Chapter Five

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 never 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 that 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 that’s 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.” I watch as she obediently sits down. At least she listens well.

“But what about the coffee?” she whispers, then shrugs as I glare at her and make my call. I turn my back on her and head toward the window and look out. I stare down at the line of women that 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.

I watch as Lila fiddles with her fingers as she sits stiffly in the leather chair. 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, most probably embarrassed from all the nonsense she'd been spilling at me. 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 I speak. I need to be alone to think about the decision I've made. I need to decide whether or not 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 they are. 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 ever be any reason other than they just couldn't cut it for them to quit. 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 staring at her shapely ass.

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, staring at me with daggers in her eyes. "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, looking around the office, 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 from laughing at the face that 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 that of legal assistant or personal assistant," she says, blinking at me like the differentiation matters tremendously. "Which one am I?"

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