Page 9 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

“Remember to tell the pumpkin to send her résumé to Ace,” Miles almost slurred. “And tell the pumpkin we say hi!” Miles waved as Oliver dragged him to his car. “See ya tomorrow.”

A layer of pebbles crunched beneath the soles of my shoes as I made my way down the sidewalk toward my car. Under better circumstances, I would have ridden my motorcycle to the bar. Hell, we all would’ve arrived there in a cacophony of roaring engines if it hadn’t been for the shitty weather. On a normal day, I’d drive home, light a fire in my living room’s fireplace, and surrender to a cuddling session with Aria as we sprawled out on the couch in front of it. But today hadn’t been an ordinary day. Aria, Oliver and Miles’s sister, was in Europe on a “girls-only trip.”

Before I knew it, I was winding my way up my private road on a ridiculously long driveway, wondering what nutcase had decided to make it the gold standard to spend what seemed like twenty minutes on a scenic drive from the road to their house. I parked my car under theporte-cochèrein front of my front door and killed its engine. The outside world was eerily quiet as I got out. It didn’t take much to make silence seem eerie when you were used to spending your time in rowdy biker bars or in corporate negotiations—which, believe it or not, were on occasion, the louder of the two.

Typically, I’d end the night with a glance in a folder or my laptop to read up on a current project, bourbon in hand. Today, I decided to end it with a glass of wine. I had a surplus of the blood red. Ace’s parents lived next to a commercial vineyard in France’s beautiful Burgundy region, where they’d moved to retire. In a show of generosity—or perhaps gratitude—they’d sent me a case of exquisite Musigny Pinot Noir Grand Cru straight from their neighbor’s cellar, a gesture they repeated at least once a year. It wasn’t the kind of alcoholic beverage I’d typically drink in public, bourbon was my drink of choice, and so it was reserved as my little guilty pleasure—something I preferably indulged in with Aria, simply for the sake of indulging.

However, instead of opening a bottle, I found myself fishing my cell phone out of my pocket.

Even though I’d dismissed Miles’s suggestion to ask Ace outright about his connection to Ecclestone, something urged me to reconsider, concluding that it wasn’t the worst idea he’d ever had. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t give Ace a chance.

My phone’s clock read 2:13 a.m., but I dialed Ace’s number, anyway.

Tuut. Tuut.

I held my cell up to my ear and listened to the monotonous dialing tone. Several rings in, I was about to give up and end the call when I heard a click on the other end of the line.

“Damon? That you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” I reclined on the couch. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You didn’t.” Ace’s voice sounded raspy, but not sleepy. “Are you just calling to check up on me, or is there a different reason you got me on the line in the early-morning hours?”

“You know me too well. I actually want to talk shop.” I put my feet up, enjoying the warmth radiating from the fire. It was a chilly night outside, but you’d never know it from my spot on the couch.

“Shop? You mean business?”

“That’s what I mean.”

“You want to chat about business at a quarter past two in the morning?” I could practically hear him pulling his bed covers over his head. “Why didn’t you say what you had to say earlier at Talia’s? Slipped your mind?”

“Something like that. I thought it would be better to discuss it sooner rather than later,” I explained.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Earlier tonight you mentioned that you were drafting blueprints for a mansion in Short Hills.”

“Yeah. And?”

“Ecclestone is busy developing property in that area. I can’t help but wonder whether you’re working with him, or perhaps worked with him, and that’s why you’re looking to sell Windsor Architects.”

I waited for Ace to reply. The silence was deafening.

“So, which one is it?” I pushed.

More silence.

“Are you high?” Ace finally said. “Did you take something?”

He sounded angry, likely for a good reason. I hadn’t expected that he wouldn’t be. Hell, I would be if someone asked me this. But, I needed an answer.

“No and no. What a bullshit question. I’ve never met the fucking guy. Do you really think so little of me?”

“You know I’ve got to do my job.”

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