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I bypassed beautiful empty room after beautiful empty room until I was trailing to the state-of-the-art kitchen. It was the kind of kitchen that made me want to cook a full meal and entertain guests, which was amazing since I hated dinner parties, and the only person I liked cooking for was my father.
“It won’t happen again. I swear. I tried to call—”
“I was working out and had the music up,” he said shortly. “My phone isn’t my priority. I actually hate it.”
“You were working out at six in the morning?”
“How do you think I maintain the body you were just checking out?”
Heat rose to my face. “I was not checking you out. Get over yourself.”
Gavin ripped open the refrigerator and removed a bottle of Kefir. I half expected him to guzzle it down, which was gross, but he poured it into an open blender. There were already a bunch of other ingredients inside the fancy-looking appliance. It probably cost a full month’s rent of my apartment. Or one month of my student loan payments. This was the reason why people stole things.
“I was just shocked that you’d open the door like that,” I babbled. “I’m pretty sure those shorts are meant to be worn under . . . other shorts.”
“Why would I care about being modest in my own house?”
“Well, because I’ll be here with you.”
Gavin cocked a brow. “If you think I’m going to try to spare your delicate baby eyes, I suggest you readjust your expectations. FYI—after showering, I air dry.” That said, he slapped the top onto the blender and turned it on. It sounded like a fucking airplane taking off.
Whirring filled the kitchen as we stared at each other over the counter. It was like a Wild West stare down, except in Westhampton, and he was armed with a protein shake and way nicer guns than John Wayne’s six-shooters.
Oh God, I needed to stop.
Clearing my throat, I moved closer to him to be heard over the noise. “Listen, I’m sorry I messed up. I don’t know how I’m going to deal with the schedule but I’ll figure something out. I swear.”
Gavin stopped blending his foul-looking concoction. “This is why it’s a live-in position. Did you think I was just dying to play house with some pain-in-the-ass personal assistant?”
“No. I assumed rich people just like having staff at their beck and call.”
“Yeah,” Gavin said sarcastically. “Because this place is stacked with staff waiting on me.”
I had no response to that, so I watched him remove the lid from the blender and drink straight from the pitcher. Watching a man guzzle a protein shake shouldn’t have been erotic, but seeing his sweaty throat bob with each gulp was sort of a turn-on. I was such an awful thirsty cliché. If there ever came a time when I stopped lusting after men who were bad for me, I was going to buy myself a serious prize. Actually, I wouldn’t. Whatever prize money I won would be going to loans.
“Okay, we’re getting off on the wrong foot again. Let’s start over.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.”
“I am?”
“Yes. Let’s start over from our last meeting. First off—your schedule is seven A.M. to five P.M. You negotiated to have other duties added into your salary such as providing me meals, so I expect you to be here around my daily schedule.” Gavin held up a finger. “I get up at six and have my pre-workout protein shake. If you’re still here in two weeks, you’ll have your own keys to let yourself in. When you get here, you can start by getting my breakfast.”
“Oka—”
“Second.” He held up another finger. “Food. And this is important. I eat six times a day, and I follow a specific diet. As in, at least six thousand calories a day. I make my own shakes, so don’t worry about that.”
“Holy shit!”
Gavin crossed his massive arms over his chest as if to use them to illustrate his need for enormous amounts of food. “Lots of lean protein, complex carbs, good fats only. I don’t eat fried food except on cheat days, and I pound avocados. I don’t eat white bread or anything processed. And I expect my breakfast finished by the time I’m done with my morning workout. I have it with my post-workout shake. I skipped breakfast today because I have no food. Since someone wasn’t here to go to the store.”
I’d caused the man to starve. I was definitely going to get fired.
“Third.” Another thick finger went in the air. “During breakfast, I’ll give you a list of things I need you to do each day. Usually starting with returning phone calls, canceling appointments Joe or my agent made that I don’t want to deal with, sorting the fan mail and answering emails, although that can wait until I trust you enough to let you into my shit. I get a few hundred letters a week so it takes time. I don’t give a fuck about fan mail but Mel Hawkins—my agent—has a cow. She thinks it makes me look worse than usual if I blow off the people who actually have interest in talking to me.”
