Page 47 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

As I stomped into the elevator, the texture of his grubby, oily skin still marred my hands. The elevator doors slid closed behind me. My reflection in one of the mirrored walls stared back at me. My face appeared deceptively normal.

Calm down, I told myself as I tried to exit beast mode. She was safe.

I pressed my forehead against the wall. It felt pleasingly cool to my heated skin.

Ping.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing an empty foyer. Mrs. Mills had taken the day off. She’d said something about her daughter having an out-of-town wedding, or something like that. I made a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.

After a quick visit to the bathroom where I washed my hands, I headed down the hallway to my left, and marched toward my office.

The inside of my office was bright, even though the blinds were drawn and not a single sliver of sunlight wormed its way through. I took off my suit jacket and hung it from a hanger on my office door next to my silver-gray coat—that had looked perfect around her shoulders hours earlier—before strolling over to my large leather office chair and sinking into it.

My head tilted backward and I closed my eyes, forcing calm back into my body, and most importantly, into my mind. I shook my head. It wasn’t working today. After a moment of quiet contemplation, I unlocked my desk and took a small pack of bond paper from one of my drawers. I began to sketch a house. A small, modest, beautiful house with a large garden in Camana Bay. Nothing like I’d usually design. But I made a point to add a pool.

Sometime later that day, Stella came up to my office, and I gave her our security manager’s number, and then watched her working through her office’s open door. She took all of her tasks very seriously. I watched as she frowned at a pack of papers on her desk, thumbing through them like they were eviction notices. There was something endearing about the way she went about doing the most ordinary things while putting her whole heart into it.

When 5 p.m. rolled around, I was in the middle of prepping for an upcoming presentation. As the CEO, I was free to come and go as I pleased, but my day was far from being over. As soon as I saw Stella close her laptop, I packed up my briefcase and walked her to the cab that was waiting outside for her. Next, I made my way to my Sián in the building’s underground parking garage, switched on its ignition, and revved the engine. It was loud, sure, but not what I wanted it to be. Probably time for a new car.I’ll call the dealership first thing in the morning,I decided as I pulled out into the street, heading toward the Upper East Side—I’m going to buy an Aventador.

Tilly and Teddy were in the kitchen, busy cooking up a storm by the time I set foot in my apartment.

“That smells good,” I announced, hanging my suit jacket on the coat rack next to me. I loosened my tie, rolled up my sleeves, and strolled over to my sister. My nephew was cradled in one of her arms while she stirred a large pot of boiling soup with her other.

“It’s nothing fancy,” she said, smiling at me over her shoulder. “Just onion soup like Mom used to make.”

“Why don’t you go sit down with little Teddy, and I’ll finish this off?” I reached for the wooden spoon in her hand.

“That’s sweet of you, but I thinknot.” She pulled the spoon away from me and playfully scowled at when I didn’t let go at first. “I’m a new mom, not a baby, Ace. I can still make soup. Also, you suck in the kitchen.”

“Have it your way.” I released the spoon and ignored the jab. Instead, I dug through my fridge and withdrew a container full of strawberries. One after the other, I popped them into my mouth. They were sweetly sour, or sourly sweet, I couldn’t tell.

“How was your day? Did anything exciting happen?” She started adding pinches of thyme, rosemary, and dried parsley to the steaming pot in front of her. The entire apartment was filled with the smell of cooking herbs.

“A little too exciting.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “You didn’t get in trouble for something, did you?”

“Why would I get in trouble?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” She grinned.

“Hmph. Well, it wasn’t anything like that. It happened to Stella. My new assistant. I just intervened. A delivery guy she met once showed up at reception and basically tried to force himself on her.”

“What? Another delivery guy?” Her eyes widened until they were as big as saucers, and her forehead wrinkled. “And Glenda didn’t beat him to death?”

“She would have, if she had been there. She took the day off, so it was just Stella and Willette, the staffing agency’s replacement. By the time I walked in, the guy was almost all over her.”

“What did you do?”

“I wanted to break his neck.”

“Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” I said, leaning against the far wall of the kitchen. “Just scared him off. That was probably a mistake. Security grabbed him.”

“You’d be spending the night in jail if you had done more, so, no, no mistake.” She shook her head and continued stirring the soup. “Is your new assistant okay?”

“She’s a little rattled, but she’s fine. When I saw that man reaching for her—” I stopped myself, and the next moment, I wondered why. It wasn’t like I had done anything wrong. Like telling my best friend’s little sister that I’d always thought she had the most beautiful breasts.

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