Page 35 of The Assistant
“What’s going on?” I ask, bracing myself for whatever bad news he has.
“Just checking in to make sure everything is going okay with Harper,” Dad says with a hint of eagerness in his voice. He really is frothing at the mouth about this deal with Malik. It makes me sick that he would completely forgo any shred of human decency and sell his own stepdaughter the way that he is. I’ve always known my father to be ruthless, but this is something else entirely.
“She’s fine. I’m looking at her right now.” Harper’s at her desk, clicking through all the emails that stacked up overnight and forwarding me ones that seem important. “Believe it or not, I’m not totally incompetent. I’m keeping her busy, so she stays out of trouble.”
“Good. I knew I could count on you for this,” Dad says with a small, relieved sigh that doesn’t go unnoticed. “I don’t think I need to remind you how important it is that she stays pure. The entire deal hinges on that alone.”
I pause for a moment, trying to think of what to say. Malik is obviously very serious about Harper being a virgin. She was until a few days ago, and I managed to fuck up this whole deal without knowing. But how serious is this deal actually?
“How well do you really know Malik?” I ask, knowing this isn’t going to sound good to my father. I’m not supposed to question him, and asking something like this is out of character. “Are you sure that Harper is going to guarantee that you get the men you need?”
“Malik and I have talked extensively about this, and I trust if I give him what he wants, I’ll get what I want. What Malik wants is a beautiful virgin, and we happen to have one on our hands. So long as she stays that way, that is.”
I lean back in the chair and watch Harper as she brushes stray strands of her blonde hair behind her ears. She’s completely oblivious to what’s going on, and it makes my chest ache.
“How is Malik even going to know that she’s a virgin? Is he going to have her checked out by a doctor like she’s some kind of royal bride?” It’s a serious question, but I ask it like it’s a joke to take the heat off of the conversation. I don’t want to seem suspicious. If my dad knows I’ve done anything to defile Harper before Malik can claim her as his bride, that could be very bad for me.
“Yes, actually. He already has an appointment scheduled for Wednesday.” Dad says. My heart is pounding in my throat, and I almost wish I didn’t ask. I had to have known there would be some crazy bullshit like this happening.
“And how sure are you that Harper is still a virgin?” I ask, forcing skepticism in my voice. I’m hoping he thinks I just don’t want this deal to fall through, not that I’m planting seeds of doubt in his head.
There’s a long pause between us, and I can almost picture the darkness falling on his face.
“Harper had better be a virgin. That’s for her own sake,” he says in a quiet voice. “And ours too, for that matter.”
We hang up the phone, and I sit with the weight of that warning lingering in my office. Malik is dangerous, and if he doesn’t get what he wants, there could be an all-out war ready to break out. All of that over Harper.
The only thing is, Malik has no idea how hard I’m willing to fight for her. He might have thought he was going to take her without any issue, but he’s got another thing coming. I’m not going tohand her over. She won’t be going to any doctor’s appointments and proving she’s a virgin.
Malik isn’t going to lay a finger on her, and if he does, I’m going to end his life. Nobody touches Harper.
Chapter 18
Harper
I’min the middle of responding to emails about press inquiries and interviews with the likes of Forbes and The Washington Post when Dawson storms out of his office with his briefcase in hand. He’s angry, and I don’t know why. We’ve only been in the office for an hour, if that. He’s taken one phone call. Surely, it couldn’t have been bad enough to cause this reaction?
“Get your things; we’re leaving,” Dawson says as he stops by my desk and watches me as I throw the few things I have pulled out of my purse back in.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. I stop packing, and Dawson nudges my arm to get me to continue. I look away from him, feeling the heat from the anxiety rising to my cheeks. Clearly, something is not right.
“Everything’s fine. I have a last-minute business meeting in North Woods, and we have to go as soon as possible,” Dawson explains.
“North Woods? That’s pretty far away. It’s going to take us all day to drive there,” I say, just trying to make conversation to get some more information out of him about this.
“It’s a good thing we’re not driving,” Dawson says as he places his hand on my back to guide me toward the elevator when I’m all packed up.
Dawson calls the limo driver, and they pick us up out at the front of the building shortly after. The first stop we make is to the penthouse, and Dawson rushes me through packing as I grab the suitcase I came here with and throw random clothes inside.
“How long will we be gone?” I ask as Dawson watches me from the doorway. He just shrugs and stuffs his hands in his pockets while he waits for me to continue.
I don’t usually get to travel a lot. My mom, on the other hand, is the one who marries the rich men and goes on lavish honeymoons. I’ve seen her pack enough to know that I should be prepared for just about anything. So that’s what I do. I don’t know what the weather is going to be like, and I don’t have time to check, so I pack shorts and T-shirts, professional skirts and light blouses, as well as some sweaters and stockings. I shove a few different kinds of shoes inside the suitcase, and I have to sit on it to close it by the time I’m done.
When I’m done with my own suitcase, Dawson instructs me to pack one for him as well. While I’m doing that, he makes arrangements for travel on his phone, still watching me from the room as he sits on the edge of the bed. He calls Maggie and tells her that we’ll be gone, and she won’t need to cook or come in for work for a few days. That’ll give her plenty of time to spend with her grandkids, at least.
Dawson is much easier to pack for because he has less variety in his wardrobe. He really only has long pants and long button-up shirts with suit jackets and ties. I do my best to make sure I throw together some matching outfits with a few pairs of loafers and oxfords that pair well with the color schemes I’ve put together.
As soon as I’m done and both of us have suitcases packed in his room, he leads me out of the penthouse and back to the limo. I’m sweating by the time we get back because of how quickly he rushed me through everything. What makes it so much worse is that he’s not answering any of my questions.
