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James finishes the brandy in his glass and sets it on the table. “An assistant is an extension of Will and is expected to act and dress a certain way. Is that a problem for you?”
“I...uh...what does he expect his assistant to wear?”
“No worries, your clothing will be supplied.”
“Oh, okay.” A measure of relief washes through me.
“You’ll find a new wardrobe in your closet when you reach your destination.” He glances the length of me, like he’s trying to determine my size. I debate whether I should outright tell him, but in the end, I don’t want to say the number out loud. Honest to God, from the little amount I eat, I should be thinner than I am. But no, my body likes to store every damn calorie I take in. While I’ve come to terms with it, that’s one of the many things my ex-fiancé, Liam, wanted to change about me. Apparently, I didn’t fit in with what was expected of his affluent family. Douchebags. Every last one of them.
“Anything else I should know?”
“You’ll have to sign a nondisclosure agreement. Anything you see or hear cannot be repeated.”
Jeez, the more he talks about Will, the more intrigued I am about the secretive, regimented asshole who provides clothing to his assistants. The same man caught in bed with another woman during his bachelor party. The more I think about it, a man like him getting caught seems rather contradictory to his character. If I hadn’t seen the pictures with my own eyes, I might not have believed it. Will flat on his back, some random girl riding him like he was her own personal pony. It’s rather disgusting that Avery sneaked in and took the pictures.
James sits back in his chair and lifts his head. He riffles through the Polaroids beside him, finds what he’s looking for and hands it to me.
“That’s Will,” he says, but he doesn’t need to tell me. Nor does he need to tell me I’m looking at the hottest guy on the planet. One who can’t keep it in his pants, even when he has a beautiful fiancée.
“Whose wedding?”
“Will’s brother Alec and his beautiful bride, Megan. Married in Saint Moritz near my resort.” Under his breath he says, “Now there’s only one left.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
There’s a new spark in his eyes when he says, “You’re perfect for Will.”
Perfect for Will?
Something feels a little off in the way he phrased that. Then again, he is in his nineties, and perhaps he’s not as sharp as I thought. “You mean I’m the perfect assistant for Will, right?”
“That’s right. Isn’t that what I said?” That spark is back in his eyes, and before I can answer he continues with, “You’ll do it then?”
“I’d never say no to a favor for you, but can I ask how it is a favor for you?”
“Will is a very private man. He hires a new assistant for every trip. He’s not so trustful, you see. Doesn’t let anyone get too close or hang around too long. There is no room for complacency in his world.”
“I can understand that.”
“Every assistant is vetted through my agency, and I’m their last stamp of approval. Unfortunately, no one quite fits what he needs.”
“You think I do?”
“I think you’re perfect. But there is one more thing, Khloe.” He leans toward me. “It’s very important.”
I eye him carefully, not at all sure I like the sound of this. “Okay...”
“I realize you don’t put articles out in your own name at Starlight, but please don’t mention you’re a journalist, or anything about the magazine.”
I’m about to question him on that, but quickly realize why it’s important to keep that information private. Will, undoubtedly, has a deep hatred and distrust for reporters after the exposé done on him. “I don’t like to lie.”
“It’s not a lie. It’s just not something he needs to know.”
“Why hire me if he hates reporters? I’m sure there must be at least one temp at the agency who could give him what he needs.”
“Not the way you can. Now you’d better get a move on—his plane leaves in a couple hours.”
When I catch what looks like mischief in his cloudy eyes, unease trickles through me. While I’m certain James would never steer me wrong, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m about to go down the rabbit hole and not come out the same.
