Page 63 of By His Rule

“Yeah,” I finally say, a smile firmly playing on my lips as I do so.

“Your new assistant was something.”

I still the second his words hit my ears and look up, finding his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“What was that?” I demand, my voice a little deeper than it was before.

“O-oh, I didn’t—shit,” he hisses under his breath. “I didn’t mean it like that. She looked professional and like she could…” He trails off, piquing my interest.

Jamie doesn’t usually give me his opinion about much. Maybe the weather or the state of the traffic. But never about a woman, or even a staff member.

“She could what?” I ask.

“Be a good addition to the team, sir,” he says after clearing his throat.

My shoulders shake with a laugh. “You mean she can handle me?”

“Um…handle isn’t the word I’d use.”

“Oh really?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I glance down at my cell, disappointed that she hasn’t already replied with some snide comment about my demands and expectations.

Sitting forward, I hold Jamie’s eyes in the mirror as he’s forced to stop at an intersection.

“Appreciate her from afar all you like. But you will not be getting any closer than that. Do you hear me?”

He swallows nervously before a car behind beeps, alerting him to the fact he can now go.

“Shit,” he hisses again.

Happy that I’ve made my point clear, I sit back and open my emails again.

Without a reply from Lorelei, I’m forced to go through the others sitting in my inbox. They’re nowhere near as exciting.

I’ve almost read and replied to all the ones worthy of my time when Jamie pulls up out the front of my apartment building.

“There you go, sir.”

“Thank you. Have a good night. Try to stay out of trouble.”

“You got it, sir.”

“It’s Kian,” I say for the millionth time.

I’ve no idea who his parents are, but they instilled some serious fucking manners in this kid.

He smiles at me, silently letting me know that it’ll never happen.

With a nod, I take off toward the entrance of my building, greeting the doorman as he lets me inside.

“Good evening, Kian. Good day?” Maurice is in his sixties, and I’m pretty sure he’s been guarding the door of this building for the better part of his life.

He’s been married since he was twenty-one, has four kids, eight grandkids, and a great-grandkid on the way. He is hands down the nicest man I’ve ever met. His wife is equally as lovely. He’s a hardcore Chicago Chiefs supporter and loses his mind every time he has the pleasure of opening the door for my little brother.

A few years ago, we organized for him to have a season ticket. Since we did, he’s attended every single home game, proudly wearing his Callahan shirt.

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