Page 6 of The Grump's Assistant

“I believe you said you expected me to perform my duties sans sass. But I went above and beyond, don’t you think? Doesn’t clearing a six-hundred-dollar dry cleaning bill earn me just a little bit of sass?”

The corner of my mouth tips up in the hint of a smirk. Goddamn, this woman.

“P.S., six hundred dollars? To clean suits? You could buy a new one for that price.”

“The suits cost ten grand each.”

I hear her quick intake of air, and I imagine her clutching her imaginary pearls. Then I imagine all the sounds she’d make if I stripped her down and ran my tongue over every inch of her body. I’d stop her rambling with a devastating kiss, filling her mouth with eager strokes of my tongue until she’s too weary with desire to talk back to me.

“Well, every little bit helps,” Juniper responds once she’s recovered. The way she says it makes me think it’s a favorite phrase of hers. Maybe one she tells herself over and over again.

An insane, overwhelming need surges through me, clogging my throat as a growl sits trapped in my chest. I don’t want her to just scrape by. I don’t want her collecting little pieces, I want her to have the whole damn world.

Jesus. I should fire her. This is dangerous, unchartered territory.

“Anyway, I’ll drop these off with you and then get my next assignment?”

“No,” I bark. I can’t see her. I don’t know that I could hold myself back from the confusing urges welling up inside me. At the same time, I can’t get rid of her. Not until I figure out the hold she has on me. “Give the dry cleaning to Rhonda, at the front desk. Then I need you to pick up a triple shot cappuccino and a boysenberry cream scone fromLa Dolce Vita.”

“Boysenberry cream, huh? I never would have guessed you have a sweet tooth.”

“That’s neither here nor there. Text me when you’re on your way back with my food.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she says like a soldier to a commanding officer.

I’m about to reprimand her, but that damn tinkling laughter floats through the phone, softening everything in me. Well, everything except for one very stubborn organ.

“I just wanted to say, thank you for giving me another chance. I’d like to come see you at the end of the day and get all the paperwork sorted out.”

“No.” The word physically pains me as it leaves my lips, but I can’t see her. Not yet. She’s messing with my head, and other parts of me. I need a bit more information on her, need to be the one in control instead of the other way around. “In fact, you should know right now that I don’t often see my employees. I text and email, calling when absolutely necessary. But my job is about the numbers. The trends. I need solitude, and that solitude must be protected. That will be part of your tasks - not bothering me and not letting anyone else bother me, either.”

She’s silent for so long, I wonder if she hung up. I never apologize, and I’m not going to start now. Besides, I didn’t say anything to her that I haven’t also said to every single one of my assistants. They are faceless to me. As long as the cogs in themachine are working smoothly, there’s no need to interact with anyone. I like it that way.

Really. I do.

“I understand,” Juniper finally responds. “But I have the job?” She projects an air of confidence, but I hear the slight tremble in her voice. Christ, this woman is cracking me wide open, making me feel wild and protective. She needs a job. I need an assistant. It’s not about her, specifically. It’s about me.

Right. Keep telling yourself that.

“Yes.”

She lets out an excited shriek, followed by boisterous laughter. A horn honks in the background, and I can barely make out someone shouting. “I got the job!” Juniper exclaims, her voice a bit faded, as if she pulled the phone away to tell someone else.

“Whoopdie-fuckin’-do,” another voice says, this one gruff and weathered. Slightly slurred, too, as if the man has been drinking.

I want to rip his head off for talking to my Juniper that way. Fuck. Myassistant. That’s what I meant. An insult to her is an insult to me, as the head of the company.

“Well, that was just rude,” she mumbles into the phone. My lips do that thing again. It’s almost like a smile, but not quite. “Anyway, thank you, Mr. Sloan. You won’t regret this, I promise. I’ll try to tone down the sass.”

I grunt, swallowing down my response. I like her sass. Her feisty attitude. Her disregard for my position of power. Fuck. What have I gotten myself into?

3

JUNIPER

“Look at us, both moving on to bigger and better things,” Gabby says, flashing me a rare excited smile. “This place won’t know what to do without us.”

Ron, my boss at the diner, was shocked when I walked into his office and quit. He was even more shocked when Gabby walked in after me and did the same thing.

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