“Coffee and food runs are within the job description of an assistant,” she pointed out.
But not part ofyourjob.
Technically, she was right. I’d had no problem asking my other assistants to handle the errands I hated because I paid them damn well to do it. They rarely followed through, but that was beside the point. The idea of Greer doing shit like that didn’t sit right with me.
Partially because I didn’t want her to leave.
“Next time,” I lied. “But you’ve got enough to do right now, so we’ll do delivery. What’re you in the mood for?”
“I’m good,” she muttered.
“I’m ordering you something regardless, so you might as well pick it out. Otherwise, I’m getting you tofu.”
“I like tofu,” she said, and that must’ve been a lie because no one liked that shit.
“Unseasoned, steamed tofu,” I amended.
She gave a long-suffering sigh. It would’ve been more impactful if it wasn’t accompanied by her stomach growling.
“Burgers? Pizza? Mexican?” I took in the way her eyes lit before declaring, “Mexican it is.”
Intimately acquainted with the options in my area since I’d yet to use my fancy-ass kitchen, I brought up the menu for the best Mexican place that delivered. I held out my phone to Greer, and when she reached for it, I gripped her hand across the table.
Fuck, touching her is a mistake.
I fought to keep my voice and words neutral since she wasn’t a pretty sub I could order around. “If you’re working, I’m feeding you.” I tried to fight against it, too, but I couldn’t stop my hold from tightening. “Withoutan argument every time.”
“I don’t remember that being in the contract,” she whispered.
“Then I’ll have my lawyer add an addendum.”
She rolled her eyes, and I grudgingly let her hand go so she could order. When she returned my phone to me, I doubled her order of veggie street tacos before editing mine to add three kinds of meat and extra cheese. It would be one of the last good meals I could have before I needed to crack down for filming.
Damn water retention.
I placed that order and started a second one for caffeine. That time, Greer didn’t argue about adding her drink.
Once it was set, I handed her back my phone so she could continue working.
And I could continue staring at her.
CHAPTER NINE
AND HIS LUCK WITH DATES IS EVEN WORSE SINCE HE’S FLYING SOLO THESE DAYS…
TRIPP
Maybe I can have herrun lines with me.
Or I can say I need help at the furniture store.
Fuck knows that wouldn’t be a lie.
Maybe I can just order her to stay longer and return tomorrow, too, and she would do it without argument.
I almost laughed at the thought.
After a couple of hours—including a break for lunch—I knew Greer was almost done. Which meant I’d begun racking my brain for a reason she needed to stay.
