Page 33 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

“Guys! So happy to see you,” she said as she drew nearer.

Emmie was wearing the same bright-green shirt and had the same matching nail polish on her fingernails as the last time. If Ihadwanted a one-night stand with a girl, I could have had one, but I refused to with an employee of a place I frequented. But the girl didn’t know how to take no for an answer. It was…bothersome, to say the least.

“Still the same old grump as last time.” Emmie threw her arms around my neck and squeezed, causing me to spill my drink.

“Hey, Emmie.” I grabbed a napkin from the center of the table to dab at the wet spot on my chest.

“Today’s my last day here.” Emmie blew a large bubblegum bubble. It popped with a loudbang. She sucked it back into her mouth and continued chewing, oblivious to the fact she’d made a mess of my shirt by spilling my drink. She leaned in and whispered, “Let me know if you want to reconsider your decision from last time, hunk.” She giggled and winked at me.

“No hard feelings, but no,” I said to her with as much patience and kindness as I had inside me. It was difficult. Even if she no longer worked here, I wasnotinterested.

She leaned back, saying, “I’m here until midnight.” She blew another bubble, then turned and sauntered away to another table.

Miles whistled. “What was all of that about?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Mind your business.”

“Oh, I’m minding my business all right.” Miles chortled into his beer glass. “Looks like Ace has set his eyes on somebody.”

I threw my crumpled-up napkin at him. It hit him on the side of the head.

“Ouch. Dick.”

“You’re the dick. And shut the fuck up. It was just a napkin.”

We spent the rest of the night reminiscing about college frat parties, old motorbikes, and all the youthful shenanigans we once got up to together, before we all had responsibilities and careers.

* * *

Istumbled out of Talia’s more drunk than ever that night. On our way out, we had tipped Gracie generously.

The sidewalk felt like rubber beneath my feet, swaying and threatening to give way with each step I took. My black Sián was parked just across the road. Allison had loved the car. The thought of it made my guts churn. The whole ridiculous thing. Fucking ridiculous. I stopped midway across the road and doubled over, spilling the contents of my stomach onto the black asphalt below.

Fuck. What was I doing to myself?

The scissor doors automatically opened as I got closer, the microchip in my car key now within a few yards of the car. I barely had enough strength left in my limbs to slither onto the seat, the beers that Gracie had so dutifully supplied had stolen all of it from me. Leaning my forehead against the steering wheel, I waited for the world to stop spinning. I fucking shouldn’t be driving. My light-headedness passed, and I called my chauffeur to pick me up. As luck would have it, he didn’t take too long to get to me.

“Good evening, Mr. Windsor.” He hopped in and turned on the engine by pushing a small button on its dashboard.

He steered the Sián onto the road and pointed it in the direction of my apartment on the Upper East Side.

* * *

Idon’t remember being driven home that night, but I do remember standing in front of my door, not wanting to knock.

The challenge was finding the right key and actually managing to insert it in the lock. I should have let that interior decorator talk me into buying automatic doors. Also, I shouldn’t have had that last drink.

“Success,” I mumbled the moment I finally managed to unlock the heavy wooden door. Walking into the foyer, I whipped my coat off, and attempted to hang it on a coat rack in the corner.

“Good to be home,” I whispered, kicking off my shoes and leaving them lying in the hallway. The maid would pick them up in the morning.

My living room was large but cozy. Thanks to Tilly and my interior designer, several new brightly colored modern art pieces hung at eye height, depicting complex geometric shapes surrounded by large expanses of blank canvas.

The marble floor felt cool under my feet as I made my way into my bedroom.

Thank God Tilly and Teddy were fast asleep. I staggered over to my walk-in closet and retrieved a box. The word “Photos” stood sprawled across its lid in blue permanent marker. After a moment’s hesitation, I opened it.

One by one, I started digging through the old contents, searching for a small photo album dating back to my time in college. There it was. Glad to have found it, I sat down on the floor, carefully placing it on my lap.

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