Page 56 of The Physical Attraction Seminar
“Well, you see, my assistant quit,” I explain casually. “And Nina, our receptionist, who so graciously decided to cover while I was out, didn’t get the memo toupdate it. It was an honest miscommunication error during the transfer of duties. Simple as that.”
"You're lying," he hisses, his words dripping with venom as he narrows his eyes to slits.
There’s only one person who can give them a personal recount of the event. Unfortunately for him, she just so happens to be my girlfriend. And my girlfriend just so happens to be spontaneous enough to go along with my brother’s preposterous plans.
“Why don’t we ask Miss Former Assistant herself?” Harrison offers with a casual shrug of his shoulders and a devilish grin. “Oh, Lyla, can you please come in here?”
Lyla walks into the room, looking as stunning as ever. She’s wearing a formfitting black dress that I’m going to have a hell of a lot of fun taking off of her later.
“Hi, I’m Lyla Hayward. Former personal assistant to the chief executive officer,” she introduces herself with a wave.
“Good afternoon, Miss Hayward,” another board member speaks up. “Would you mind telling us how your employment ended?”
“It’s a simple story, really. Two Fridays ago, I told Mr. Banks that I was quitting,” Lyla says with her shoulders pulled back, giving no reason to believe she’s not telling the truth.
“Are the two of you in a relationship?” Harold pries.
Of course, he’d go straight for a low blow.
“We are, but only as of yesterday. We were never in a romantic relationship while working together.”
“And can you give any indication of your whereabouts last week?”
“Why does it matter?” Lyla tilts her head to the side. “I wasn’t a Banks Brothers Enterprises employee last week, so it’s really none of your concern.”
Harold humphs.
Another board member raises his hand, and Lyla signals for him to pose his question. “May I ask the reason for your resignation, Miss Hayward? You’re not required to disclose if you’d prefer it to be kept private.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. That’s another simple answer. I got a new job at a different company,” she reveals. “It’s an office manager role, which is a bit of a step up from a personal assistant. It was a hard offer to pass up. Actually, if you’d like, I can have my new boss come and vouch for me.”
Confusion swept across the faces of the board members.
“Aspen, can you come in here?” Lyla calls over her shoulder, and Aspen waltzes into the conference room in a fitted knee-length white dress.
I glance at Reid and notice that his gaze is fixated on her. He’s completely captivated. Harrison and I exchange a knowing glance, silently understanding each other, before refocusing on the task at hand.
“Hi, everyone, I’m Aspen Spears. 18th floor tenant and Lyla’s new boss.”
As the words left her mouth, nine pairs of eyes widened in surprise, including Harold's. His eyebrows furrow, and his lips tighten into ascowl. “But what about your temporary assistant from last week? I’d like to get a testimony from her as well before I’ll believe this.”
“I can give you one.” Nina walks through the door a few moments later with a big smile.
My brothers and I all share a look. Aspen and Nina weren’t a part of Harrison’s original plan, so Lyla has completely gone rogue on this one. I’m not sure whether to be terrified or impressed, but either way, it’s working in our favor.
"Nina Oliver," she introduces herself with a warm smile. “Receptionist at Banks Brother’s Enterprises for the last four years. Barrett’s temporary assistant from last week while he was on vacation. And as of this morning, his new personal assistant.”
The board members' faces turned pale as a sheet.
“Which one of you is Harold?” Nina asks, and he raises a finger, reluctantly making himself known. “I wanted to personally apologize for giving you misinformation on our call last week. Lyla forgot to leave a note telling me to switch over Barrett’s calendar details.”
Lyla lets out a small "oops" and casually shrugs her shoulders.
The room stays silent for a few beats, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Harold finally slumps back into his seat, the weight of defeat evident as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“Any further questions?” I ask, trying to fight back a smirk.
No one makes a sound.
