Page 25 of The Executive Assistant

“I’m not looking for that type of help,” I assured him as I rested my hand on my bare knee, drawing his eyes to the few inches of exposed thigh that my dress didn’t cover.

“I could help you scale your business more. People let pride get to their heads. They refuse to ask for help and seek counsel. Don’t be naive like them.”

I took another sip to cover up my irritation. I was trying to throw hints left and right, but he was so blinded by his reputation and his money.

Wait. Was I just like him? When people looked at me, did they see a woman who also only cared about business, success, and cash? The thought stunned me into silence for a moment.

Eventually, I found my voice. “I’d rather not talk about business,” I said, forcing a light smile onto my face.

Russell raised an eyebrow at me. “Too stressful?”

“No. I just don’t like to mix business and pleasure.”

He gave me a sly smile.

“Besides, it’s important to have a life outside of work,” I continued, which was laughable. I was the least qualified person to say that.

He nodded. “I agree. I often golf with my buddies or go out to restaurants.” He started talking about all the exclusive places he’d dined at.

I nodded as I listened to him, waiting for him to ask me a question, but he never did. After his review of every restaurant in the city, he spoke about his luxury watch collection and then the sports car he wanted to buy.

As minutes turned into an hour, I lost my patience. I’d forgotten how self-absorbed he was. This was a terrible idea. Why had I chosen him?

I finished up my drink, not even feeling a buzz.

“Want another drink?” Russell asked as I set down my empty glass.

I shook my head. “I’m done for the night.”

Russell checked the time on his watch. “The night is stillyoung.” He shot me a suggestive look. “Come home with me.”

The opportunity that I prepared for was right in front of me. All I had to do was accept and let him whisk me away to his penthouse or wherever he stayed. He’d probably give me an hour long tour, pointing out all the expensive furniture, before leading me to his bedroom.

Did I really want to listen to him talk even more just to get laid?

The answer was clear: no.

“I’m sorry, Russell,” I said, feeling guilty since I’d totally wasted his time. “I need to head home.”

His face screwed up. “What do you mean? You dress up for me like this and flirt with me, but you don’t want to come home with me. Are you playing some sort of game?”

“I’m more tired than I thought I’d be. I had a big day.”

We both knew it was a lie.

Russell scoffed and tossed some money on the bar. “Goodnight, Alison,” he said, and walked out without sparing me a second glance.

I watched him leave feeling genuinely guilty — I hated having my time wasted too — but also relieved. I must’ve temporarily lost my mind to think having anything to do with Russell would be a good idea.

Once I stepped out of the bar, I looked up and down the street as the dark night sky loomed overhead, pleased to see that the sidewalks were well-lit. A walk to clear myhead wasn’t a bad idea.

I started down the street, passing by closed shops and busy restaurants and bars. I ventured west, the buildings becoming older. That’s when I noticed the street sign on the corner. Clermont Street.

This was Cameron’s street.

I hadn’t ever been to his place before, but I recognized the street name from his employee file. Unable to help my curiosity, I wandered on, checking the specific addresses of the apartment buildings before heading to the left where a four-story building was wedged between a laundromat and a sandwich shop. This was it. This was his building.

I lingered outside, staring at the intercom box next to the front door. What was he doing right now? Watching TV? Reading a book? Cooking?

---