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Yeah, me. We butted heads every time we were together, and when we weren’t fighting, we were fucking. What a beautiful relationship.
“Would it kill you to stay focused?” I said quietly in her ear, cutting her off mid-sentence.
“I’m so sorry, boss,” Chelsea said sweetly. “I sometimes forget that you own me, and I’m not allowed to pee without your permission.”
I knew she was only teasing, but even hearing her jokingly say I owned her made my skin prickle with heat. It brought up vivid flashbacks of my hand buried in her hair and her soft ass against my hips. “I need my personal assistant to act like she’s here as an employee and not at a social event. And I need her to show she has some common sense the next time she gets dressed.”
Chelsea’s cheeks flushed. “Somebody misled me. About the yellow,” she added in a near whisper.
I leaned closer. “What do you mean?”
Chelsea just shook her head. “I’m not going to tell you. It’s too embarrassing. Can we just pretend I’m not wearing any of this?”
“No,” I said, trying to expel the image of her stripped bare and naked. I did not need to picture that. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Chelsea caught the look on my face, then grinned. “Like what you see, boss?” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“You said someone misled you. What did you mean?”
She sighed. “Daria said you love yellow. She said you’re super nice to people when they wear yellow. Then Dick told me on the ride over about how you tore some poor guy’s head off just for wearing a yellow tie. So…”
I cracked a smile. “You thought dressing as a lemon would get me to be nice to you?”
Chelsea glared.
“Did you ever consider not being a sarcastic, back-talking pain in my ass?”
“No. Wearing yellow sounded a lot less painful than having to kiss your ass. I was going to load my closet with fifty shades of yellow if that was what it took.”
“You probably shouldn’t trust Daria, by the way,” I said.
“Yeah, no shit. Why would she try to trick me?”
“Daria has a twisted sense of humor. It’s nothing personal, probably. She’s… not amused by normal things.”
“Well, I’ve got to use the restroom. Am I allowed to pee on the clock, boss?”
“I’d suggest the toilet.”
She stared for a few seconds, then half-smiled. “Was that a joke?”
“No,” I said sternly. “Now go use the bathroom.”
She got up, glanced back at me once, then left.
“You two have an interesting relationship,” Chris noted. “It sounds like you need to practice a little sexual therapy.”
“Hardly.”
I felt a hand slide across my thigh. Tia was smiling down at it. “If she’s not willing, I’m sure someone else would spend the night with you.”
I didn’t quite understand why I felt so repulsed by the idea of sleeping with Tia. I still wanted her as a client, so I didn’t quite rip her hand off my leg like I wanted to. Instead, I gave a tight smile. “Thanks, but I’ll have to pass.”
She tilted her head. “Saving yourself for the personal assistant, then?”
“I don’t sleep with clients. And I don’t sleep with employees.”
“Then maybe I’ll refuse to sign the contract until I’ve had a taste of Damon Rose and his magic cock?”
Chris laughed. “Only thing magic about Damon’s cock is that it disappears after paying you a visit.”
I decided to get up and go find Chelsea, because even her constant attitude was preferable to listening to my own brother talk about my penis.
I was stopped by a pair of basketball players, then an agent from a rival company, and finally one of the biggest shoe sponsors I worked with. By the time I detached myself from the conversations, Chelsea had been M.I.A. for over an hour. When I finally found her, she was at the bar again talking to Mace.
I gritted my teeth, then moved to her side. “Come on. You’ve had enough.”
She swirled to look up at me and I realized she really had. It looked like she was well on her way to not remembering anything else about tonight.
“She’s an adult,” Mace said.
“An adult who has drank too much and needs to get home.”
He grinned. “Since when do you give a shit about anyone other than yourself?”
“She’s on my payroll. If she dies of alcohol poisoning, I’ll end up having to talk to lawyers. I hate lawyers.”
“Fuck you and your lawyers,” Chelsea said. “I’ll die if I want to, bitch.”
I took her arm and tried to get her to stand, but she threw her face forward, head butting me in the stomach.
“What the hell?” I staggered back, not sure if I should laugh or start swearing.
“Come on, tough guy. You want me to come home with you, then learn to take a head butt like a man.”
How much had she had to drink while she was gone? “Just get up and come outside with me. I’ll get you a ride home.”
