Page 20 of The Assistant
I want to forget all about it; I really do. I wish I could just bury it deep down and that Dawson would do the same thing. But his words replay in my mind over and over again. “I bet you can’t forget.”
He might be right, and admitting that is very painful for me.
I hope he’s not planning on staying late today like he did last night. He could at least have some human decency and let mego at a decent hour this evening, considering everything that happened yesterday. Knowing Dawson, that’s not likely though.
Surprisingly, he walks through the door shortly after 4:00 p.m. ready to go. He opens the door to my office without knocking and gestures for me to get ready.
“We have to go back to the penthouse so you can change, but we have a last-minute meeting tonight,” Dawson explains.
I immediately grab the iPad to look what it is, which makes Dawson laugh. “I don’t see anything on the schedule.”
“I said last minute, didn’t I? Just get your things.” I do as I’m told, putting my iPad and phone in my bag before following him out of the office to the limo.
I expect him to say something else about what happened last night during the car ride. He’s definitely not above taunting me about it. Instead, he’s quiet, simmering with frustration that I don’t know much about. Someone called, and he kicked me out of his office, and I don’t know who it was. Maybe it was Marcus again?
“Where is this meeting?” I ask when we get out of the car and start heading toward the entrance of the building.
“Peregrine downtown,” Dawson says without any more information. I have no idea what that is. Let’s just say, I don’t get out much.
I whip out my phone and Google it to see that it’s a nightclub. “We’re having a meeting at a nightclub?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” Dawson says without looking at me.
I have a dozen other questions I want to ask, but by the disinterest in his voice, I hold them all back. When we get to the penthouse, he follows me to my room and starts digging through my closet.
“I know you don’t care for my style, but I can dress myself,” I say, folding my arms across my chest.
“Trust me, you’re going to need some help tonight.” Dawson huffs, grabbing a skimpy blue dress from the closet and handing it to me.
My shoulders slump, and I look at him with a silent plea. This is like the bikini all over again. He just wants to torture me, so he’s making me show off as much of my body as I possibly can without getting slapped with a public indecency charge.
“Just put it on,” Dawson says before walking out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
I put on the dress and look at myself in the mirror, wishing I could hide every inch of exposed flesh under one of my chunky cardigans Dawson had Maggie throw away. Instead, I’m here in a blue mini dress that barely covers my ass and has a neckline so deep I can’t wear a bra. It’s a wonder my boobs don’t spill right out of it.
I wait in my room after I’m dressed for Dawson to come and get me. When he finally does, he looks me up and down with a mixture of emotions in his eyes. He likes seeing me like this, and it’s hard for him to hide that on his face. But there’s something else in his eyes that catches my attention. He’s angry.
I almost want to ask him about it, but that would make it look too much like I care. He’s my boss and the stepbrother I never asked for, that’s it.
We leave the penthouse and drive to the nightclub in silence. I’m only eighteen, so I’m not really even old enough to get into tonight’s club. I’ve also never had the desire to go to one. But there’s a first time for everything.
There’s a nervous swirl in my stomach that I can’t tell if it’s from excitement or anxiety. From everything I’ve seen on TV shows, nightclubs should be fun. There’s going to be dancing, and plenty of people to talk to.
But then again, I’m sure Dawson won’t let me out of his sight. He would never miss an opportunity to torture me.
When we pull up outside of the club, Dawson stops me before I can approach the door, grabbing my arm tight in his hand.
“Listen, you need to stay by me and keep your mouth shut. Don’t make too big of a scene about anything in here, you got it?” I nod and wrinkle my eyebrows, not fully understanding what he means. “There are a lot of people in here we’re going to meet, but there’s one person you’re not to talk to. His name is Malik. He’s not the kind of guy you say no to. Understand?”
“I’m just an assistant. It’s not like anyone’s going to care about me,” I say, shrugging it off.
“Promise me you’ll stay away from Malik,” Dawson says again, squeezing my arm tighter and staring in my eyes.
“Okay, I promise,” I say, pushing his hand off of me.
With that, we walk toward the entrance, and the bouncer lets us in without asking a single question. It’s still relatively early, so I’m surprised by the amount of people wandering around the club. I would expect most nightclubs to really take off around 10:00 or 11:00 p.m., but this one is already packed to the brimwith people holding drinks and dancing in the middle of the room.
As we walk through the crowd, I catch the attention of several men who stop and stare at me, licking their lips and winking when I meet their eyes. Dawson notices it too, and he holds my wrist tighter as he leads me through the crowd.
