Page 16 of Big Boss
I can practically hear Jackson’s teeth grinding, even over the phone. “Apparently not, because here we both are and you’re no closer to rehabilitating your image than the last time we talked. If anything, now it looks like you’re definitely banging the new assistant, ugly dress and all.”
I can feel my pulse pounding in my head, and I swear I’m going to have a stroke before the charity launches. Assuming I’m ever able to dig my way out of the mess I’m in and actually get First Notes to happen.
“I can’t believe I’m in this much shit because Ididn’tsleep with someone. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I haven’t even dated anyone in years, Jackson. Literally entire years of my life. And yet all the world can see of Donovan Tate is the man I used to pretend to be, all because of dear old dad.”
Jackson sighs heavily. “That’s half the problem, Tate. If you had an actual girlfriend, it would be so much easier to debunk the Crystal rumors. But instead, you’ve got a scandalous past and nothing else. You have to show up to that fundraising event with a good girl on your arm or First Notes will be dead in the water.”
I pause, the tendrils of an idea starting to wrap themselves around the problem. “Jackson,” I breathe the word out, trying not to disturb the precious idea that has come to me. “I think I have an answer.”
“If you tell me it’s going to be perfect, then I’ll know we’re doomed for sure.”
“But it is perfect. There’s no way this can go wrong.” And this time, I’m ready to bet my entire future on it.
But once Erica is staring at me from the other side of my desk, I’m second-guessing myself to within an inch of my life before we even get started with the most awkward conversation of my entire career.
“I suppose you’re wondering what I want from you this morning.” I’m doing my best to sound intimidating and stern, because I really need her to say yes to me, even though I can guarantee she won’t want to.
More likely than not, she’s going to tell me to get stuffed. She’s one of the only women I’ve ever met who acts like she can’t stand me. That’s why she’s going to be perfect for this job I need her to do.
“If this is about yesterday, I already said I’m sorry. I didn’t want to see you getting skewered by reporters again, and even after what happened, I have to say I would make the same choice all over again.” Her chin tilts up defiantly.
A little corner of the charred lump of my heart thumps a little faster because of the way she says it—like she actually cares about me, despite how I’ve gone out of my way to be an extra big jerk to her.
My mouth quirks up into a little smile before I force it down. “I’m sure.” The words roll out in a lazy, indulgent purr.
I watch her bristle at my tone, her lightly freckled nose wrinkling up in abject disgust. Yes, this is absolutely perfect. She clearly can’t stand me, and so there’s zero risk of her deciding to try her luck with the Donovan Tate experience. All I have to do is get her to agree to my request.
“I need you to do something for me.” I put an extra dose of heavily bored boss in my voice, hoping to rile her up.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Obviously. I’m your assistant, Mister Tate. That’s what my actual job is. To do something for you.” She puts some extra sass on the wordsomething, making it sound a little extra filthy, at least to my ears.
Her attitude is right on the edge of outright insubordination. Perhaps if I were any other man, she'd be fired immediately. But as it stands, her sarcasm is only one more selling point to me.
This has to work. It's going to work.
"Well, with Miss LeGrande now out of the picture, the issue becomes who is going to accompany me to the opening of First Notes."
She shrugs. "I don't honestly care which dumb girl you want to have on your arm. Just tell me when you invite her over so I don't run her out of your office next time."
My predatory smile should be a warning to her, but she's not paying attention. "That won't be a problem. The girl in question already has access to my office." I pause, waiting for her to connect the dots.
Instead, she's looking at me like I'm the idiot in this equation. Much like Jackson had warned me about earlier.
I force a casualness I don’t actually feel and rest my chin on one fist. "You could even say she has total access to me."
Her eyes shoot up to mine, and she recoils at whatever she sees there. "Okay, that's just gross. I don't mind being your front desk person, but my job duties don't include listening to you wax poetic about your icky sex life." She shivers even as the words slip past her lips.
I laugh. Not even one of my suave chuckles, but a full-on burst of raucous laughter that has her staring at me like I've taken leave of my senses. Well, maybe I have, but the only way through this situation is straight ahead.
"Quit laughing at me," she growls, folding her arms like a petulant child. And honestly, that's what she looks like. Her little tiny feet poke out and don't quite reach the ground, and I don't know who dressed her, but the weird-ass Beetlejuice tights she’s wearing aren't doing a damn thing for her appearance. Why is she dressed like it’s already Halloween in the middle of July?
"And quit staring at me. Just tell me the name of whoever is on your approved guest list so I can avoid publicly humiliating him or her next time."
I clear my throat, a sudden burst of nerves choking me. I'm not used to asking a woman out. I can't remember the last time I had to. I've always had women lining up to literally throw themselves and their underwear at me, and my entire dating life has been an ongoing, carefully concocted ruse for purposes of public appearances only.
"Erica, I was wondering..." The words trail off unhelpfully, and I wriggle my foot back and forth where it's crossed across my knee. Now is definitely not the time to project nervousness. I'm supposed to be in control of this situation, to have my entire act together in such a way that she won't be able to refuse me.
And even as I'm thinking about how to force her into saying yes to me, Erica leans forward until she’s right next to me, her little hand covering mine. "Hey, what's wrong, Tate? I'll help you with whatever it is."
