Page 15 of The Billionaire's Assistant

“Yes, sir.” He was pale now, and clearly scared. I was toying with him. It wasn’t nice, but then I wasn’t nice, and if he was innocent, it ultimately wouldn’t matter.

9

BEN

Iwas uncomfortable as hell, but not because of what I was wearing. The tux Marisol had made fit me perfectly. The fabric was soft and as comfortable as formal wear could possibly be. I was uncomfortable because I did not belong at a function like this. If I were being honest, I didn’t belong in the C-suite at Montgomery Enterprises. I still wasn’t sure why Miles had hired me. I wasn’t qualified. I was sure he knew that, though I had done a fine job so far. I prayed he hadn’t hired me to humiliate me as punishment for trying to infiltrate the company. I couldn’t help feeling like the other shoe would drop at any second.

Would he expose me at the gala? I didn’t think so. Making a scene at a fundraiser wasn’t his style.

I hadn’t known what to think about him sending a car to pick me up. The sleek black limo was beyond out of place in my neighborhood. Several people came out on their stoops or fire escapes to watch as the chauffeur opened the door for me.

Miles wasn’t in the car. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed. He probably had dozens of limos and drivers at his disposal, and this wasn’t a date. He’d asked me to go with him as his assistant. Hadn’t he?

His “if you like” rang in my head. What had he meant by that? Was this a date? No. Billionaires didn’t actually date their assistants. If he wanted me, he’d make that clear. He wouldn’t expect to need to wine and dine me, and he would be right because, God help me, I’d give him whatever he asked for. If he made a move, there was no way I was going to be able to turn him down. Every time he was near me, I was so distracted I could barely do my job.

I took a different elevator than I usually used. This one sent me all the way to the top level where Montgomery Enterprises had a swanky event space as well as a rooftop garden. Miles had asked me to observe, but I felt like I didn’t know enough of the people here to do that effectively. My knowledge had been limited to the people he’d met with since I was hired and a few other assistants or directors I’d needed to interact with. Most of the guests weren’t even employees of Montgomery Enterprises. Many were probably the upper echelon of New York society, but I didn’t follow society gossip well enough to know anyone other than a few actors and one famous model that I’d had to fight not to gape at.

I was nervous to go up to people and try to join their conversations. Most of the people were talking about their investments, their other charitable donations, their yachts, and where they would be traveling over the next few months when it was too hot for anyone to stay in New York, anyone except those of us who didn’t have the money to leave. Of course, if I managed to keep this job, it wouldn’t be too long before I would be able to at least take modest vacations. But first, I had to get out of debt and figure out how to get my family off my back.

I couldn’t have actually been mingling that long, but it felt like forever, and I still hadn’t seen Miles.

That was fine. He wasn’t my date. It wasn’t his job to show me around. I was here to work for him, but that didn’t stop me from being anxious to see him up close and personal in a tux. At least I would see him eventually since he’d promised we’d be seated together for dinner.

I made another circle of the room, listening to conversations, especially when I noticed someone I knew from the office. I spent a few moments talking with the PR director and few older women she introduced me to. They were pleasant, and at least the conversation focused on art and jewelry, something I knew more about than I did yachts and exotic travel locales.

I was able to snag several canapés from passing waiters, and I was starting on my second glass of champagne when I finally saw Miles.

He was standing near the stage where he would give the welcome speech once everyone had been served dinner.

I watched him, telling myself I should keep walking. When he looked my way, I hesitated. I didn’t want to interrupt him, but he waved me over, making it clear he wanted me by his side. I joined him, and he introduced me to Mrs. Eudora Weeks, the director of the Artistic Endeavors Foundation.

Miles only told Mrs. Weeks my name, not that I was his assistant. She beamed as she shook my hand. “How long have you two been together?”

“Oh, we’re not—” I said at the same time Miles said, “He’s been with me for about three weeks now.”

“You two look beautiful together. I’m old enough to get away with saying that, right?”

Miles chuckled. “You certainly are.”

What was he doing? Did he want to pretend we were dating because he was uncomfortable with how everyone wanted to get close to him at functions like this? I supposed he could pretend our “relationship” was short-lived. Whatever his plan, I wasn’t about to contradict him.

A young woman approached the podium. “Thank you for coming, everyone. If you’ll find your tables, we are ready to serve dinner now.”

Miles offered an arm to me and to Mrs. Weeks so he could escort us to our table. We were seated on either side of him, and I swore I could feel the warmth of his body even though we were no longer touching.

Miles introduced me to the others who were seated at our table, including an older gentleman who insisted I call him Robert and Mrs. Carson, a middle-aged woman who was on the board of Artistic Endeavors.

A woman closer to my age rushed over to the seat next to Mrs. Weeks, the last available one at the table, and seated herself. She focused on Miles, looking like she wanted to eat him alive. “Miles, it’s been far too long since I’ve seen you.”

“It has been a while, hasn’t it, April?” The chill in his voice let me know that he could’ve gone longer without seeing her again. I wondered why she had been seated at this table. “April, this is Mrs. Weeks. She is the director of Artistic Endeavors.”

“Oh, isn’t that sweet.” She couldn’t have made it more obvious that she didn’t care. “Would you mind switching seats with me, Mrs. Weeks. I would just love to catch up with our dear Miles?”

Mrs. Weeks’s eyes grew wide, and Miles said, “I specifically asked Mrs. Weeks to sit beside me so we could converse about the future of the foundation.”

“Oh, but you wouldn’t mind, would you?” She turned her pleading eyes on Mrs. Weeks who was staring at her like she was an annoying insect.

“Actually, I do.” Mrs. Weeks winked at me, and I had to lift my napkin to my mouth to hide my smile.

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