The Assistant(39)

My blush deepened at his reaction, and I found myself clearing my own throat. “You told your mom that you and I are going on a trip next weekend – which we’re not, by the way – but why?” I asked.

Adrian’s gaze suddenly darkened. “Don’t worry about it. And we will be going. We have to now that I’ve mentioned it in front of her.”

I gave him a look of disbelief but decided against arguing about it at the moment. I’ll leave that for another day. “She doesn’t seem to like me much. I don’t understand why, I’ve never met her before.”

“Just… don’t worry about it,” he said. “Don’t let her get to your head.” He pulled me back into his torso and smirked down at me. “Now, about this dress… I think it needs to come off.”

The blush returned to my cheeks as my eyes widened.

“Adrian,” I hissed, trying to mask my blush with a dark look. “Someone will hear you.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That’s an improvement from ‘That’s never going to happen.’ I think I’m making progress here. Kingston 1, Johnson 0.” He joked, sneaking another kiss on my cheek.

I gave an exasperated sigh before pulling out his grip once again, rolling my eyes. “Let’s get back. They might think we’re doing more than talking.”

“I mean… I wouldn’t mind proving them right…” He trailed off smirking, before chuckling at my expression “Okay, okay. Let’s go, I need to do my thank you speech anyway.”


***

By the time the event ended, I was in tears from Adrian’s father, who I realised, shared his humour gene with his son. While he made remarks that made me cry from laughter, he also threw a few suggestive comments involving Adrian and me, and sometimes even based them on himself and me. Adrian would glare at his father every time a comment not involving him came up, and I rolled my eyes at his protective nature.

Almost the entire venue was empty by the time the woman came back to me at the table, and she gave me the same secretive smile she wore when we first met; making my stomach do countless flips once again.

“Are you ready to go?” she asked. I cast an uneasy glance around the room and only found Suzie, Allen and a few other men left, as well as the staff of the venue. No sign of Adrian.

I sighed before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.” I called out a brief goodbye to Suzie and Allen, who waved in response. I followed the woman outside to the car park, just as I realised I was still wearing Adrian’s suit jacket. I was thankful, due to the chilly wind that was whipping my hair about and making my toes freeze in my heels.

“My client will meet you in the car shortly. It was nice meeting you, Emily. Have a wonderful weekend.” She smiled as I climbed into the black car, and the words registered into my mind.

“Wait, what? You’re not coming?” I asked, growing even more nervous at the thought of her familiar face being absent with the stranger I was about to meet.

“You’ll be fine” was all she said, before she shut the door of the car.

I looked around the dark vehicle nervously, my breathing becoming heavier as the silence of the car suffocated me.

It felt like forever had gone by before the door on the other side of the car opened, and my head snapped towards the tall figure who just spent half a million dollars on me. He got into the car, shut the door behind him, and told the chauffeur in front to drive off – all while I continuously stared at him in shock.

“Come on, Shortcake,” Adrian smirked. “I told you I’d take care of it.”

Chapter Nine

“Come on, say something!” Adrian chuckled as he unlocked the door to his penthouse suite.

I continued glaring, staying silent as the rattling of the keys echoed throughout the empty top level loudly. The door clicked open, and he turned to face me fully, smirking in amusement.

“’Thank you Adrian,’” he said in a slightly higher-pitched tone than his usual one. “’You’re the best boss ever.’”

My glare stayed.

He let out a sigh before pulling me into his torso by wrapping his arm around my waist, and I instantly tried to wriggle out of his stone-like grip. “You’re not as happy as I thought you’d be, Shortcake,” he muttered, looking down at me with a slight pout to his lips.

I stopped trying to wriggle out of his grip momentarily to look up and give him a look of disbelief. “Not as happy as you’d thought I’d be? What part am I supposed to be happy about? Coming to your apartment where you’d probably be even worse than someone who bid on me at the auction, or the fact that you didn’t tell me about your brilliant plan to ‘take care of it’ to begin with? How did you do it anyway? I thought you weren’t allowed to participate since it was your charity fundraiser.”

“I didn’t participate,” he stated with a grin as he led us inside, still holding me in his iron grip. He closed and locked the door behind us.

“Yes you did! You bid on m-”

“I didn’t bid on anybody. ‘A client on the phone’ did,” he pointed out with a smug expression, throwing his keys on the counter near the door. I groaned in annoyance before pulling out of his hold and throwing my bag onto the sofa in the living room – beginning my silent treatment rule once again.