Page 10 of Hot For Her Assistant

"You drugged me. There's nothing funny about thinking clowns are throwing penis-shaped balloons at you. I was terrified and barely got through the shoot," she shouts at Anderson.

"Those were balloon animals, not penises," Anderson says with a simple raise of his shoulders. "Also, I did not drug you. I gave you what you asked for. I do not presume to tell any adult that purchases illegal narcotics from strangers what not to ingest in their bodies."

"I'm calling the police. Where is Natalie?" Chanel shrieks.

It's only then I realize that she's not in the office. The bathroom door reminds me of our time here last night. Her catching me and me burying my cock deep inside of her. What a crazy, twisted day.

To think it all started because the little troublemaker calling herself a professional actress got me fired. The bell chiming above the door steals all of our attention as Natalie walks into the office way calmer than she left my apartment. The closer she gets, the more I notice her eyes. She's fucking high.

CHAPTER 7

Natalie

"You have got to be kidding me," Chanel howls as I walk toward my desk.

However, the hulking committer of felony assault is standing in the waiting area like an anxious client. I smile at Tyler, sliding a finger under his chin before tapping his cute nose.

"Nat, are you okay? You look a little less sober than this morning," he's whispering and I don't understand why.

"I'm fine. Swear," I assure him and toss my bag into the bottom drawer of my desk. Anderson snickers from his seat and Chanel watches me like one of those cartoon characters that turn boiling red when they're upset.

"You have a lot of nerve strolling in here like I'm not about to drop your ass as my manager." Chanel's mood grows fouler by the minute.

I shake my head and eye her from head to toe. I popped a pill from the goodie bag I took from Anderson yesterday to drug Tyler and I feel like I'm on a cloud without a care in the world. The angrier Chanel becomes, the less I seem to care about her issues.

"Tell me what happened in your own words, Chanel," I tell her as Tyler sits in one of the waiting area chairs and Anderson shifts in his chair to listen intently.

Chanel rants, "I was on set and you know how I feel about clowns. I needed something to take the edge off so I asked dickshit number one?—"

Tyler interrupts her. "My name is Tyler and I don't appreciate the name-calling."

Ha. That's funny as I recall several of the names he called me last night. However, he clears his throat as if he can read my mind.

The furrow of her brows shows the exact places where her anger lines will grow over the next decade. She corrects herself, "I asked Tyler over there to get me something, anything, coke preferred. Do you know what he told me?"

"I can tell you exactly what I said. If you can't even remember to call me by my name, then I can hardly expect you to say what I told you. I told you to do some breathing exercises, drink some coffee, and get back on set," Tyler says from his seat.

Chanel looks like she's ready to hurl something at him. Instead, she continues to fuss at all of us. "Do you want to know what's an actual circus? This fucking joke of a management firm. This guy's offering me coffee and Lamaze to deal with my fear of clowns. Then this asshole?—"

Anderson cheekily follows Tyler's interruption with a similar one. "Anderson, not asshole. I know they're similar, but please let's keep it civil."

"Fuck every single one of you. You let this sociopath bring me drugs that gave me hallucinations?—"

This time, I interrupt her. "Wait a minute, Chanel. Did you finish the shoot?"

"Yes," she huffs out.

"Okay," I speak before she starts yelling again. "Did production have any issues with your performance?"

"No," she answers solemnly. "That's not the point. I saw penis balloons."

Anderson shakes his head. "Balloon animals.For goodness sake, Chanel, it was a family-friendly set."

Without any other words, Chanel launches herself at Anderson. He immediately puts his hands up to defend himself from every blow Chanel throws at him. I can hear him chuckling, but this can't continue.

"Chanel, please get a hold of yourself." I walk over to grab her when she spins on me. She hauls her hand back to slap me when I see Tyler approaching like a fucking missile. He hoists Chanel away by her waist, spinning her around and setting her down in the waiting area.

"If you do that again, I'm going to call the police," Tyler warns Chanel. She pouts but decides to keep her hands to herself for now.

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