The Assistant(22)

“Emily,” Adrian called out.

I barely made it two steps away from his room before an arm snaked around my waist and wedged me between the wall and a shirtless body. My eyes widened and my cheeks flushed as I realised he was still in nothing but his towel.

“You’re staying to eat,” he stated, a slight frown appearing on his face.

“No, I’m not,” I insisted, my expression mirroring his.

“Yes, you are. You have to.”

“No, I don’t ‘have to.’”

“Emily,” Adrian said with a clenched jaw. “I’m your boss, you have to listen to me.”

I laughed sarcastically. “Don’t you dare use that tactic in this situation. You’re my boss? When was the last time bosses made their assistants sleep in the same bed as them when there were other rooms available? Or when was the last time bosses blackmailed their assistants into having lunch with them? Or feeling them up? From where I’m standing right now, you should listen to me. Stop being a hypocrite, for starters. Like I’ve told you numerous times before this, stop thinking that everyone you meet will eat off the palm of your hand because you’re ‘Adrian Kingston’ and lastly, stop thinking that you’re going to get me to sleep with you. It will never happen. Oh, and if it ever does? I give you full permission to make me your bitch – something I don’t allow anyone to do. Have a nice brunch, Mr. Kingston. I’ll see you at work tomorrow morning.” I smiled briefly, before putting my heels on and walking out of the penthouse in anger.


The sound of glass shattering into pieces caught my attention as the elevator door dinged open, and I looked back at the entrance of the penthouse suite in horror just as the maid came rushing out.

“Miss,” she said anxiously, “Please come back inside. M- maybe you can calm him back down?” I saw the fear in her eyes.

“He’s never done this before?” I asked in shock as I heard another thing break in the house.

“No Miss,” she answered, “and I have worked for Adrian since he was born. The last time he threw a tantrum was when his father had told him that he was in charge of the company; but even then it wasn’t this bad. I never believed he’d get angry over a girl standing up to him.” She looked over at the door of the penthouse.

I frowned and bit my lip before nodding. “It’s okay, I’ll take care of this. You can go home if you like.” I gave her a reassuring smile and a squeeze on the shoulder before re-opening the door that I was so eager to leave just 5 minutes ago.

“Adrian,” I murmured softly as I placed my bag on the table near the entrance.

“What the f*ck do you-” he abruptly stopped once he noticed me standing at the doorway. I had reassured the maid but seeing him this mad, I couldn’t help but flinch from the harshness of his words.

“How about I make us some brunch, huh?” I asked as I plastered a fake smile on my face and cautiously walked over to him, not knowing what I was getting myself into.

I had broken Rule #3.

Chapter Five

What am I doing?

I placed the plate full of food in front of Adrian before walking over and taking a seat opposite him on the dining table. We ate in silence, and I internally groaned as I shoved another mouthful of eggs and chomped it down in an inhumanly manner.

I did not handle awkward situations well. I was the awkward situation. Was I meant to speak, or leave him be? Adrian didn’t say a word after I had re-entered his house, apart from leading me to the kitchen and telling me not to add any olives because he hated them. We were on the same boat for that.

His tantrum instantly stopped after that, and I was met with a silence I was neither comfortable with nor able to break. Was I supposed to start up a conversation? If so, about what? What if conversing ticked him off again?

“Can you shut the f*ck up,” Adrian snapped, finally meeting my eyes.

“What? I haven’t said anything this entire time!” I exclaimed, putting my fork down in shock.

“You don’t have to,” he muttered while ripping off a piece of bread and shoving it into his mouth. “Your facial expression says it all. I’m surprised I’m not eating brain matter right now because your head looks like it’s about to explode.”

The thought of my own brain matter being mixed with the food in front of me nauseated me, and I cleared my throat and pushed the plate farther away from me to signal that I was done eating.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, gulping down my whole glass of water before getting up and taking my plate to the kitchen.

“You barely ate, Emily,” Adrian said in a stern tone. When I turned back around, I found him frowning at me.

“I’ve eaten enough.” I glared, before turning back to the sink and pulling at the tap as water came rushing down and spreading onto the plate. I heard Adrian’s chair scrape against the marble floor violently, before I felt his solid torso being pressed up against my back tightly. My breath hitched in my throat as he put his plate of food in the sink before snaking both arms around my waist in a backwards hug. “Why are you so damn difficult with me, shortcake?” he murmured into my ear. “You’re never like this with Allen, or when we’re at work.” I could practically feel the smirk that was implanted on his plump lips as his chin rested on my left shoulder.