Page 54 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

“My essay? How’d you know about that?” he asked happily, tapping his fingers against his fluffy steering wheel. He waited for a gap in the traffic and merged onto the road.

“I got a cab on Saturday and Jay the Hunk told me you were writing a psychology essay. Why didn’t you tell me you were studying to be a psychologist?”

“S’pose I didn’t think it was important.”

“Well, it is,” I insisted. “And I’m proud of you.”

“Aw, thank you,” he said. I could see him smiling in the rearview mirror.

“How’d it go?”

“Eh…so-so. Pretty mediocre, to be honest.”

“Keep me updated. Also, why is Jay the Hunk called ‘the Hunk’?”

He grinned. “Nothing hunky about him, eh?” He chuckled, as I couldn’t wait for his answer. “Except for one thing…” he teased. I was dying of curiosity. “His last name. Jay’s last name is Hunkell. Jay Hunkell. That’s why they call him the Hunk.”

“Ohhh. That’s so funny.”

“Bit of a laugh, eh? So, where didyougo on Saturday?”

“Nowhere special. I just met with my brother at a bar.”

“Oh, Damon! How’s he doing? My hubby’s brother’s name is Damon too.” He chortled as he overtook a slow Prius. “But honestly, that guy is a supreme donkey. That’s why he wasn’t invited to our wedding.”

“My brother is a good guy. But he can be one, too…sometimes.” I grinned, but at the same time, I was glad Damon hadn’t been here to witness me calling him a “supreme donkey,” or rather a “supreme dumbass.” I would never call him that to his face. We liked calling each other names, but they were always of the funny, playful nature. “But he usually means well. He asked me to do something that I really don’t want to do though.”

“Err…nothing illegal I hope?”

“Is espionage illegal?” I laughed, but I was only half-joking.

Jay turned serious. “Your brother asked you to spy for him?”

“Well, he didn’t put it that way. He needs my help to catch someone who might not have told him the truth.”

“Ooh, right.” Jay relaxed. “You’re like Miss Marple, you are, love.”

My mouth fell open at that. “What? No. Sorry, Jay, that doesn’t make sense.” It was funny he would compare me to my beloved Miss Marple, of all people, but the comparisonsolacked accuracy and validity. “Miss Marple isn’t a spy, and apart from that, she is everything I’m not.” I tried to explain, counting down my fingers. “She isn’t scared of anything, unlike me, she doesn’t trust people, unlike me, and last but not least, she’s extremely intuitive, unlike me. If anything, I’m the fidgety, easily agitated person, the pedestrian who stops and waits at the red light with no cars in sight.”

“Nope, sorry, you’re just like her,” Jay protested. “You’re witty, just like she is. And just as headstrong!Andyou’re a good sport. I assume your brother gave you a secret task, and now you want to get to the bottom of it. Okay, so maybe you’re not an agent…you’re…an investigator. Anyway, it’s for the greater good. I know Damon, and he’s a top bloke. So, he’s a vigilante—and thanks to the both of you, the baddie will get what he deserves.”

“I guess…” Being a detective sounded better than prying or snooping or spying.

“Just be careful, eh? Real-life detectives—sometimes they get shot.”

Gah. “Darn. That kind of spoils my new identity,” I replied and pulled a pair of thick-rimmed tortoiseshell sunglasses out of my handbag, put them on, lowered them onto my nose, and then peered over them at Jay. “Call me Miss Stella Marple,” I said dramatically.

He chuckled as he brought the cab to a stop in front of Windsor Architects’ offices. “You’d make theperfectdetective—just make sureyoucatchthem, not the other way around.”

“Don’t you worry. That’ll never happen. I’ll be extremely careful, trust me.” I chuckled as I opened the rear passenger-seat door. “See you this afternoon?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Just give me a bell when you’re ready.”

I closed the door behind me and made it up the steps that led to the imposing building’s entrance.

22

STELLA

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