Page 7 of The Assistant
“Good.” Sitting down, I open my MacBook and tune her out without another word. She’s quick, I have to say, leaving the room once she knows she’s been dismissed. It’s not until I’m ten minutes into my first meeting of the morning that it hits me: the silent dismissal is one of Dad’s patented moves. She’s probably seen it before now.
I shouldn’t have her on my mind now, anyway, but I guess there’s some truth to the all work, no play adage. There’s a serious lack of fun in my life if it’s this easy to fall prey to distraction. But no matter how many times I remind myself to focus up, I keep coming back to those legs in that skirt and heels.
And how I can’t wait to make her squirm during today’s lunch. Diana might have married money before now, but she didn’t marry class. I wonder how her daughter will handle the rarefied air.
Not to mention how I will handle her daughter.
The girl in question is busy setting up her office and monitoring my inbox by the time I emerge twenty minutes before the meeting’s start. She hops up from her chair and takes hold of her bag without a word, grabbing her iPad before joining me. “You’re ready?” I ask, skeptical. “No last-minute trip to touch up your face?”
Her cheeks go pink, but she swallows her sour reaction. “I can check it on the way. I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”
First day jitters. That has to be what’s got her on her best behavior. She’ll start slipping by the end of the week. Next week at the latest.
For now, it’s enough to ride to the restaurant in silence, both of us busy on our respective devices. She seems to be taking this seriously. I wonder how she’ll feel after spending a few minutes with Richard. He’s never shy about expressing his appreciation for a beautiful woman.
And wow, is he full of appreciation, waiting for us beside the hostess stand and watching us enter. If we were in a cartoon, he’d be the wolf whose tongue unrolls across the floor while his eyes pop from his skull. “Well, hello,” he croons, focused solely on Harper, his narrowed eyes landing on her tits and staying there. “Who have we here?”
“Richard Belmont, let me introduce you to my new assistant, Harper.” It’s deliberate, the way I leave out the stepsister aspect. There’s no need to share it. Besides, he might feel like he has to dial himself back if he knows we’re related. Not that I give a damn.
“Harper.” The way he says it is like a caress from a slimy hand. She’s fighting not to squirm as she lifts her hand to accept hisoffered shake. Of course, he can’t leave it there, lifting it to his lips and pressing them to her knuckles.
Okay, even I’m slightly grossed out by that.
The hostess looks downright elated to show us to our table. No doubt he was laying on the charm before we showed up. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmurs—then brushes a hand against her ass while taking his seat. Jesus Christ.
“Harper is here to take notes during the meeting,” I explain. As if on cue, she slides the iPad from her bag and places it on the table.
“Now, now,” Richard chides with an indulgent laugh while looking her up and down again. “There’s plenty of time for all of that. What I’m more interested in is this beautiful vision sitting across from me. You expect anyone to talk about business with such a stunning woman present?”
There’s thick, and there’s let’s break out the waders. We’re in the latter territory. Harper’s gaze lowers, cheeks reddening, hands twisting in her lap. Anyone with eyes can see she’s uncomfortable.
Seeing and caring are two different things.
When I softly clear my throat, she glances my way. The pure, animal fear in her gaze startles me into forgetting whatever I was about to say. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back,” she whispers, already getting up and taking her bag with her to the restroom. The girl comes as close to a jog as she can in the quiet dining room.
All Richard can see is the admittedly impressive ass bouncing away. “Goddammit, Dawson,” he growls, staring after her.“Some guys have all the luck. Where do I recruit for an assistant like her?”
“It’s a long story.” My tie is suddenly too tight.
“I hope you aren’t feeling selfish.” His head slowly swings my way, lips twisting in a smirk. “Because I’m going to need a piece of that.”
And I’m going to need to decide whether I want to stop him.
Chapter 4
Harper
Leaning over the sink,I use my hands to splash some water on my face. The coldness shocks my system enough to breathe a little easier. Fuck.Just breathe. I tell myself because I’m on the verge of having a panic attack.
He just reminds me so much of…him. He is about the same age, similar build, with beady eyes.
It’s not him. He can’t hurt me anymore.
I close my eyes and try to get my erratic breathing under control.I can’t let them see me like this.Blinking my eyes back open, I look at myself in the mirror.I’m not that scared little girl anymore, and I need to stop acting like one.
Taking a paper towel from the stack, I dry my hands and pat my face. I’ve been in here for a few minutes now, and I need to return to the table before one of them comes looking for me.
Gathering myself, I straighten my spine and hold my head high as I exit the bathroom and make my way back to the table. I’m about to take my seat next to Dawson when Richard holds his hand out and orders me to stop.
