Page 22 of Billionaire's Black Assistant

“But all that was before, I mean, back then we weren’t…” Sheri sighed.

‘You’re attending the ball with me – and that’s final,” he said. “I keep telling myself I understand why you have to put up these walls, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to show you there’s no need for them. I never give up on what I want, Sheri.”

I know that – and that’s why I have to leave, before I sink in too deep, she thought with a hidden sigh. Dean was going to keep pushing, till she’d have no choice but to give in completely. What then? How long before things turned sour and he realized we’re too mismatched, in so many ways?

Just last week, for their trip to Italy, they’d stayed in the most expensive luxury hotel, the kind where heads of state, celebs and of course, billionaires spend their time in pure opulence. Though they arrived for business, Dean had found many adventurous and inventive ways to give time and attention to pleasure of all forms.

In between high-powered meetings and closed-door executive retreats, there was more than enough opportunity to indulge in more…leisure acts. Sheri couldn’t deny her sinfully gorgeous boss put a lot of detail into playtime. Every night had been exciting and increasingly deviant. She still blushed, remembering that indeed Dean was every bit a freak in the sheets as he’d stated.

On their return, she may have drawn back and tried to put things back in perspective. After all, this wasn’t like being thousands of miles away where they could get away with almost anything and not worry about detection. But there were eyes and ears everywhere at the office, not to mention in public. So, she definitely planned on standing her ground by not agreeing to openly go on a date with Dean.

But with this gala event, could she keep putting up her excuses? She could try to tell herself she was just doing her duty as his assistant, but soon, wouldn’t others be able to tell there was a much deeper involvement between them?

All through the day, she sighed and pondered. And when she returned to her desk after an errand on another floor in the building, she was surprised by what she found waiting on her desk.

It was a huge, beautiful box tied with a bow. She looked around her in surprise before slowly lifting off the cover.

Folded there was a dress with a pair of shoes and an elaborately designed Venetian mask. Sheri tried not to roll her eyes, which she finally shot in the direction of Dean’s office. A few of the secretaries, hurried forward to ogle the outfit. They didn’t bother to hide their envy and told Sheri she was lucky to be Dean’s assistant and get to attend the most glamorous and exciting events with him when needed.

“I guess a personal assistant comes in handy when you want to deflect unwanted attention from the debutantes and the exes,” murmured Ellen, one of the new interns, who was the last to walk up to Sheri’s desk. She was blonde, thin, and very aware of the fact that almost every male at the office wanted into her tight little skirt suits. But Sheri shrewdly guessed the skinny tart was holding out for the big prize – the hot billionaire CEO who’d, alas, not even spared her more than his normal cursory interest.

“It’s all part of my job to make life as smooth and hassle-free as possible for my boss, so yeah,” Sheri said agreeably, choosing not to be offended by the blonde’s catty remark.

“But don’t you get scared, Sheri? I mean, that any of Dean’s women would you know, actually do you harm? I read somewhere that some billionaire’s assistant actually got beaten up by some crazy actress who got cast off by him. And just because the actress thought the assistant had taken her place!” said one of the other secretaries worriedly.

“Oh come on,” spoke up Ellen before Sheri could respond. “I’m sure anyone can see there’s nothing of the sort between Dean and Sheri. No offence, but you’re hardly his type, are you?”

Her blue eyes were hard as they seemed to dare Sheri to get mad. But Sheri didn’t get to be in her plum job by thinking every situation demanded a reaction. Sometimes it was best to leave people to think or say the lame shit they wanted to. Still, she couldn’t help but lean in slightly and smile a little smugly as she murmured close to Ellen’s ear, “You wish you knew what Dean’s type really was.”

She straightened to see the blonde intern’s eyes flashing angry thunderbolts. Satisfied Ellen had no rejoinder – the woman wasn’t stupid to want to push Sheri too far – Sheri smiled and then excused herself to stride into Dean’s office. Was it too late to convince him to find another partner for the gala? Much as the event was for a good cause and she’d have loved the chance to attend as his guest, this wasn’t the time to be drawing unwanted attention to themselves. How long before people suspected the truth?

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