Page 5 of Dirty Husband
"I have money."
"Not enough." I stand. Place my body between her and the door.
Fuck, she's as beautiful as she was the first time I kissed her.
No longer an innocent girl. No longer full of hope, love, passion.
We've been broken in different ways, but we're both there. Cracked. World-weary. Hiding behind masks.
I need to unpeel hers.
The way her body responds to mine—her blush spreads to her chest, her fingers dig into her thighs, her hair falls over her cheeks.
She wants this. Some part of her does. Even if the rest of her isn't willing to admit it.
Her eyes meet mine. Something passes between us. A memory of what used to be.
Then she steps backward, shakes her head, repeats her claim. "You can't buy me."
She turns and marches out of the office.
But we both know it's only a matter of time.
Maybe she won't hand me her heart willingly.
But she will do this.
The rest is up to me.
Chapter Three
Jasmine
By the time I slide into my expensive ergonomic chair, I'm the picture of a confident, together assistant.
Steady limbs, smooth skirt, easy smile.
My heart is beating so fast I can barely hear my thoughts, but I look the part.
As soon as my boss requests something, I nodof course, sir, and let work take over.
I've been an executive assistant for the last half a decade. Since I put college on pause to help my family.
It wasn't what Dad wanted, but he didn't really have a choice.
I've worked in half a dozen offices. Some are quiet. I sit, wait to be called upon, constantly ready, rarely engaged.
Here, I'm busy. Mr. Billings is a venture capitalist. He's always running to a meeting, requesting research on a company, planning a trip overseas.
He brings his personal assistant on trips. She's seen every major city in the world, though she claims she spends most of it jet lagged inside of conference rooms.
I shouldn't covet her life. Sure, once upon a time, I wanted to see the world. I wanted more than my family's tiny shared apartment in the Bay. I wanted to defy my parents' expectations. To go into a creative field instead of a practical one.
But that was before Mom died.
Before Dad got sick.
Before paying bills became my greatest challenge.
