Page 28 of Wicked Fortune

Like I was confused about that.

“It’s fine,” she says. “From twelve to one, you’re on your own time. If you go to lunch early or late or take additional time off, tell him or send him a text—but first make sure he doesn’t need you. You have his cell number?”

I nod. I’m now swimming in numbers, having been loaded down early in the day with cell numbers, office numbers, key-code numbers, and any number of other numbers.

“Then off we go.”

I almost say that I’m happy to go to the employee dining room myself—after all, Lila intimidates the shit out of me—but she’s also giving me the full tour and taking me to Human Resources so I can sign all the documents I completed electronically. And so I can pick up my keycard and ID. Since that’s definitely a priority, I force myself to smile and follow her lead. After all, she probably knows him better than anyone. Who knows what I might learn by spending time with her?

As it turns out, I learn very little. About Matthew, anyway.

In truth, Lila’s an excellent—if somewhat condescending—guide, and she knows the history of the company backward-and-forward. So well, in fact, that even though I feel my lacy underthings with every step, I soon manage to tune out that wicked question mark and simply let her words flow over me as she lays out the story of how Matthew worked and saved until he was able to produce his first film, a minor hit that got him some Hollywood attention.

“Because of that,” she continues, her voice lyrical with pride, “he was able to find enough investors to fully fund his next three films, two of which went on to win numerous Academy Awards.”

“And he’s never taken the company public,” I say. “Right?”

I think I see a bit of respect in the sidelong glance she shoots my direction, and I give myself a pat on the back for doing my homework.

“That’s true. He’s been approached multiple times, but he has no interest in a public company. This business is his only true love. In fact, he bought out his original investors before acquiring the land for this location.”

“Impressive,” I say.

“Very. And I’ve been with him for most of that journey.” She looks at me, her expression somehow both amused and hard. “I know where all the bodies are buried.”

“Are there a lot of bodies?” I hope my voice sounds casual. Just a little joke between new friends.

“Of course.” Her mouth curves in the tiniest of smiles, and she starts walking again, her stride long and her heels clicking on the polished wood floor as I hurry to keep up for the rest of the tour.

Soon enough, all my paperwork is signed and I have my magic ID card that doubles as a key. It gets me through the Victory Boulevard gate and access to pretty much everywhere in the building, including my own little alcove. And—because I’m his PA and just signed eight billion NDAs and consents to be flogged if I use my key unwisely—I even have access to Matthew’s office.

Okay, the flogging thing is an exaggeration. I think. I didn’t actually read the documents. I mean, who reads the fine print?

I frown as I hold my keycard tight, thinking about my mission. And despite the possibility of flogging, I wonder if the card unlocks his file drawers as well. Because that could be very, very handy indeed.

When we return with to-go curry from the Dining Room, the door between my office and Holt’s is closed. Odd since my edict was to keep it open. But when I sit at my desk to dig into my meal, I check his schedule, and immediately see why. Apparently, he’s behind that door with two of my favorite actors and an up-and-coming director whose current movie is going gangbusters.

It takes all my willpower not to pretend I’m unaware and just yank open the connecting door and waltz right in, but I manage. Partly, because I don’t want to look like an idiot to Hollywood royalty. Mostly because if I’m going to have leeway to snoop around, Holt has to trust me, wholly and completely.

I hug myself, wondering if that’s even possible. Bree’s the only person in the world I trust that deeply, and that’s true even though I love my parents to the moon and back. Love them, yes. But I haven’t been able to step over the trust line since I was a little girl and they left me alone with monsters.

The thought is like cold water on my good mood, and I want to kick myself. I’m not a truster.

But most people aren’t like me.

I’ll win Holt’s trust. I’m certain of it.

But whether I’ll ever trust him? On that, I wouldn’t lay odds.

ELEVEN

Holt pauses in front of the open door, the headset in his hand making clear that he’s no longer on the phone. “How’s your first day going?”

“Oh. Fine. Getting settled and digging in.” I’m pushed back from my desk, my shoes kicked off and my feet on a box of unfiled documents. Since that seems a little too casual for a conversation with the boss, I start to move my legs.

“Don’t,” he says, his gaze leaving a trail of fire as it drifts from my toes to the hem of my skirt, then up over my thighs, then my breasts, then higher still until he meets my eyes. “I like you this way. Comfortable. Doing my bidding.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. My own mouth is dry. Unlike certain other parts of me.