in it—just like I hated going in every single other parking garage known to man. Especially in the city. It was hard to be aware of your surroundings, and that was something I was always taught to do. I tugged at my purse, opening it a bit, so that I could pull my keys out.
I had forgotten where I had parked, so I eagerly pressed the button on the key ring so that it would honk, and with any luck also scare away nearby creepos.
But it didn’t work.
Because the biggest creep of all was one that I would never be able to get rid of.
“BOO!” Derek shrieked from behind me.
I felt my heart leap into my fucking throat and wondered if it was possible for a thirty-year-old woman with no prior medical issues to have a heart attack.
Because it certainly felt like one was coming on.
“Do you seriously always lose your car? Start writing that shit down.”
I had to admit, though. It was nice seeing him be light-hearted for once. Especially after the horrible day everyone just had with him.
“Get in with me,” he said, as his black SUV pulled up beside us.
I watched as Fredrick, his eldest and most beloved driver, made his way out of the vehicle, likely to get our doors for us.
“But my car...” I began, but knew it was a lost cause.
“You don’t know where it is anyway,” he replied, smirking cockily. “That won’t be necessary, Fredrick. I’ll get the door,” he said uncharacteristically politely to the elder gentleman. The old man, skinny and frail, nodded and slowly let himself drop back into the car. The door shut with ease, and I wondered how long Fredrick was going to exist in the world, let alone as a driver for a spoiled billionaire genius.
“Get in,” he motioned with his head as he pulled the closest door to me open and held it in place. “I’ll send a car to take you home tonight and to take you to work in the morning, and then you can get your car when you’re ready to leave the office. But I need you to work in the car on the way to my place today.”
I looked at him, without blinking. As if I hadn’t already worked all day, I also had to do it technically on my off-hours, in the car and at his place. I always worked at his place after hours, though. It was part of the job description—well, sort of. It was part of my “assistant” job description. But working in the car on the way to his place? It was as if he didn’t understand that I was a human and that I got tired, too.
Or perhaps he just didn’t care.
I sighed, knowing that I had to agree. I walked towards the black, lengthy car with real leather seats—I could smell them from five feet away—and got in.
Chapter 11
“D o me a favor,” he finally spoke after what seemed like decades of silence before glancing up at me from his phone. “Go into my calendar and delete all of my dates.”
“For tonight?” I asked.
“Forever.”
My eyes furrowed in confusion, and I hesitated for a moment. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I could only stare in disbelief.
“Why?” I asked.
“Did I ask you to ask me why? Just delete them. I won’t be going out with any of those women.”
Instead of debate, I merely shrugged and did I was asked. It was his deal if he regretted it tomorrow.
“Done,” I said, glancing up and just as I did I saw a small, young-adult Golden Retriever standing, dirty and sickly looking on the side of the street.
“Oh!” I sounded. “Fredrick, stop the car!”
But he didn’t stop. He kept driving. I mean, for downtown New York, though, I could have still gotten out and I was about to. I reached for the handle, but Derek stopped me.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“There’s a dog out there!” I cried out, hoping that he would understand the need for urgency. “I need to go help it!”
“Are you stupid?” he snorted. “There could be a dude somewhere nearby ready to carjack or kill us if we stop and check on that mangy thing.”
“Wow.” I couldn’t
I had forgotten where I had parked, so I eagerly pressed the button on the key ring so that it would honk, and with any luck also scare away nearby creepos.
But it didn’t work.
Because the biggest creep of all was one that I would never be able to get rid of.
“BOO!” Derek shrieked from behind me.
I felt my heart leap into my fucking throat and wondered if it was possible for a thirty-year-old woman with no prior medical issues to have a heart attack.
Because it certainly felt like one was coming on.
“Do you seriously always lose your car? Start writing that shit down.”
I had to admit, though. It was nice seeing him be light-hearted for once. Especially after the horrible day everyone just had with him.
“Get in with me,” he said, as his black SUV pulled up beside us.
I watched as Fredrick, his eldest and most beloved driver, made his way out of the vehicle, likely to get our doors for us.
“But my car...” I began, but knew it was a lost cause.
“You don’t know where it is anyway,” he replied, smirking cockily. “That won’t be necessary, Fredrick. I’ll get the door,” he said uncharacteristically politely to the elder gentleman. The old man, skinny and frail, nodded and slowly let himself drop back into the car. The door shut with ease, and I wondered how long Fredrick was going to exist in the world, let alone as a driver for a spoiled billionaire genius.
“Get in,” he motioned with his head as he pulled the closest door to me open and held it in place. “I’ll send a car to take you home tonight and to take you to work in the morning, and then you can get your car when you’re ready to leave the office. But I need you to work in the car on the way to my place today.”
I looked at him, without blinking. As if I hadn’t already worked all day, I also had to do it technically on my off-hours, in the car and at his place. I always worked at his place after hours, though. It was part of the job description—well, sort of. It was part of my “assistant” job description. But working in the car on the way to his place? It was as if he didn’t understand that I was a human and that I got tired, too.
Or perhaps he just didn’t care.
I sighed, knowing that I had to agree. I walked towards the black, lengthy car with real leather seats—I could smell them from five feet away—and got in.
Chapter 11
“D o me a favor,” he finally spoke after what seemed like decades of silence before glancing up at me from his phone. “Go into my calendar and delete all of my dates.”
“For tonight?” I asked.
“Forever.”
My eyes furrowed in confusion, and I hesitated for a moment. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I could only stare in disbelief.
“Why?” I asked.
“Did I ask you to ask me why? Just delete them. I won’t be going out with any of those women.”
Instead of debate, I merely shrugged and did I was asked. It was his deal if he regretted it tomorrow.
“Done,” I said, glancing up and just as I did I saw a small, young-adult Golden Retriever standing, dirty and sickly looking on the side of the street.
“Oh!” I sounded. “Fredrick, stop the car!”
But he didn’t stop. He kept driving. I mean, for downtown New York, though, I could have still gotten out and I was about to. I reached for the handle, but Derek stopped me.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked.
“There’s a dog out there!” I cried out, hoping that he would understand the need for urgency. “I need to go help it!”
“Are you stupid?” he snorted. “There could be a dude somewhere nearby ready to carjack or kill us if we stop and check on that mangy thing.”
“Wow.” I couldn’t
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