Page 2 of What Happened Last Night

I’d found Luna through an agency and had liked her from the start. She gave off a confident, friendly energy that was exactly the opposite of mine. She made jokes. She asked questions. She was the kind of person people instantly took to. We’d been feeling our way for three weeks, seeing if we could get along.

So far, she was dedicated and very, very good. She wasn’t a music groupie looking to meet celebrities. Since she started, she’d transformed my inbox and my digital files into something manageable, and she didn’t care that I sent emails at two in the morning. I knew where I was supposed to be each day and at what time. I was starting to feel human again.

Luna was also pretty, but since she preferred to work in the office I rented and I was rarely there, I didn’t see her often enough to dwell on it.

“Did you get all of that?” Luna asked when she’d finished listing everything I needed to know.

“Yes,” I said, trying to sound confident.

“That means no,” she said, but she didn’t sound mad about it.

“I got most of it. There’s a text about T-shirts I should read.” She screened all of my work texts, emails, and phone calls, and she had access to my hard drive, which was synced to the laptop I’d given her. All of my assistants had this setup.

Maybe most people in my position didn’t give their assistants so much access to their life, but it worked for me. I had private channels if I needed them, but I often didn’t bother. I had almost no personal life anyway—the legacy of working nonstop since my teens.

The only personal calls I got were from my parents or my ex. I had exactly one hobby—gaming—and no sex club memberships. I wasn’t seeing anyone since my long-term relationship broke up, so there were no dirty messages or scathing photos coming in or going out. I supposed I drew the line at my assistant seeing a picture of my dick, but in thirty-two years, I’d so far had no desire to either photograph it or text it to anyone. Luna and I weren’t going to have that problem.

“You only retained what I said about the T-shirts?” Luna asked me with a laugh. “There was a bunch of other stuff.”

“I was listening, I swear.” It wasn’t her fault that the inside of my head was sometimes like a messy kitchen drawer.

“Just look at the to do list I made. You can access it on your phone. Anything coded in red is the most important.”

I was at my building now, and I looked up at it from the sidewalk. It was ten stories, with my penthouse at the top. I had the rooftop patio to myself. One of the joys of being rich as fuck.

Luna was a godsend, but I had a moment of hesitation about telling her so. It had only been three weeks, and she was around my age. It was too soon to tell her how much I appreciated her, because it might come off like I was trying to get personal. But if I said nothing, she’d think I hadn’t noticed how good she was.

“Will?” she asked when I’d pondered this for too long. “Are you still there?”

“Tell me you’re not sitting in the office all alone,” I said instead of thanking her. I had no other staff.

“I like it here,” she argued.

“Luna, we’ve talked about this. I only rented the office space to have somewhere to get mail, take the occasional meeting, and print things off. You aren’t expected to sit there all day. That’s why I gave you a laptop and a phone.”

“It’s air conditioned,” she said. “There’s a coffee maker.”

“Luna.”

“Okay, I know. I know. I’m just very used to being expected to sit here. I’ve never had a job like this before.”

My New York assistant, Amy, was married with two small kids, and by the time we’d parted, I knew more about those kids than I would know about my own, if I had them. In return, Amy had my suit measurements memorized and had been on a first-name basis with my girlfriend at the time. In fact, I would bet money that she and Lizbeth still talked. Amy certainly knew more about me than my parents did.

Except for what was on her resume, I knew almost nothing about Luna. She had brown hair that fell in curls to her shoulders, blue eyes, and a wide, easy smile. I knew her address from her paperwork, but I had not creeped it on Google. She had various curves that I knew were very nice but had not studied in any detail whatsoever. She had a distinctive wardrobe of vintage-style dresses. She didn’t wear a wedding ring and hadn’t spoken about any children. I assumed she had a boyfriend, because she gave off the vibe, somehow, of a woman who had a boyfriend.

I briefly wondered what her boyfriend looked like. A finance type? A Portland hipster? A jock? A neck-beard nerd? None of them quite fit the picture. If she worked for me long enough, I’d probably meet him eventually. I disliked him already.

And now I was annoyed with myself.

“Take the rest of the day off,” I told her, keeping my voice neutral. “That’s what I’m doing. I’m already home.”

I could feel the hesitation in her voice. “If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Go do whatever you do after work.”

Her tone brightened. “You mean fight crime? I guess I could start my vigilante evening a little early.”

I liked Luna’s sense of humor. It was a lot like mine. “Gotham needs you more than I do,” I said, my tone as serious as a heart attack.

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