Page 38 of Rhet

I should fuck her until Julian comes back. However, I refuse to fuck the help and that’s what she is technically.

“Mr. Banner?”

I blink. “Huh?”

“Windows? Are there any curtains?” she points toward the windows.

“Oh, look beside the bed. There’s a switch that turns the windows opaque.”

She finds the button and leans over to touch it. “Oh, it becomes frosted. Good, some days I like to walk around without pants.”

I look at the side of her ass in those ridiculous pants and can’t help thinking I want to see her legs without them. My cock jerks against my leg.

“If you are here, keep your fucking pants on,” I growl. Okay, enough of this shit. I have to go.

“What about the dogs from hell?” As she dries her hair, I wonder if it’s real. It looks heavy and dark.

“Don’t worry, by the end of the day, a guard will come to you with them.”

She draws her eyebrow in. “For what?”

“He will train them to adjust to you.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

I make my way to the front door. “Don’t thank me yet? See you tomorrow.”

ZEETA

As the hairstylist takes the cape off my shoulders and spins the chair, I smile, because I recognize the beautiful woman in the mirror. Did I dumb down my dress code on purpose? Why yes, yes, I did. Now it’s time to put the Mr. Banner in his place.

Drake’s “Fancy” plays in the background, causing me to chuckle at the accuracy of the song. My nails are done and so is my hair. The shopping bags beside me say everything has been done. My silk pressed hair drapes over my shoulders and down my back.

My phone vibrates and I pull it out.

A-hole Boss: Pick up my dry cleaning at Cohen’s. Get it to me by 5:30 a.m. with my coffee. Call Caitlin Foster, confirm my date tonight @9 p.m. I will send her number in next text. Make reservation at the Glass House. Your phone is now connected to the work server. Check Julian’s schedule and see what my day looks like. It updates every morning.

Glass House, I want to scream at the thought of calling the bougiest restaurant in the city. I feel like I should change my voice to do so. This restaurant is constantly packed. In fact, you have to make reservations a month in advance to get in. How the hell does he expect me to do this?

“Can you please wrap my hair up for me?” I nibble on my nails as I think.

I google Glass House and dial the number. The telephone rings in my ear. Within three minutes, my request is denied, even with my voice change. I wrap up my salon payment and head to my car.

I need to figure this out. How can I get him a table? I throw my bags in the trunk and slide into the driver’s seat.

The two things I must get right are coffee and now Glass House. An idea hits me. I google Rhet Banner and the Glass House.

Wouldn’t you know it. It seems the owner of the Glass House, Tarek Fairisles and Rhet are old friends. Okay, I know how I’ll get him in. It’s his friend. I need Tarek Fairisles number.

I could text Julian, but I don’t think he likes me much. I need someone who’s good at gathering information. I call my bestie, Penny.

“What do you want?”

“Pen, I need your help.” I start the car and make my way to Cohen’s.

“I haven’t heard from you in a million years,” she complains dramatically.

“I haven’t spoken to you in like a week. I’m sorry.”

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