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“You’d really do that?”
“Of course. I meant what I said about you being a valuable asset to the firm, but I’m not going to keep you in a position you hate. That wouldn’t do anyone any good. But I think you’re exactly what Rowan needs. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Sitting up, I pulled a deep breath into my lungs and let it out. “I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m an incompetent moron.”
“Then prove him wrong,” Lauren responded. “But better yet, prove me right.”
“Okay,” I finally spoke after a few seconds. “I’ll do that.”
“Fantastic!” Lauren shouted through the line. “Oh, and Navie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t take any of his shit. Show him that steel I saw in your eyes when we first met. Trust me when I say I won’t hold anything you say or do against you. You put that man in his place if need be. I know you have it in you.”
Lauren’s words of encouragement did a lot to bolster my confidence as I made my way to Rowan’s apartment the next day.
I hadn’t made the same mistake as the day before, making sure to dress comfortably in a pair of jeans, a loose t-shirt, and flats. It wasn’t the most professional ensemble, but I’d be damned if I was going to trek all over the damn city in heels and a skirt again.
Taking Lauren’s words to heart, I tried my hardest to give Rowan the benefit of the doubt, telling myself that once he realized I was trustworthy, the chilly armor would crack, revealing the normal, pleasant man underneath.
Yeah, not so much.
I tried. I really,reallydid, but after thousands of thinly veiled insults, being bossed around by a rude, inconsiderate ass, and being talked down to, I’d finally had enough.
I lasted six days before I finally blew.
And I went up like a damned volcano.
Using the key I’d forced from an all-too-reluctant Rowan after quickly discovering he and I didn’t function on the same schedule, I unlocked the front door and stepped into the apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake the hibernating bear too early.
I made a beeline for the kitchen to start a much needed pot of coffee. I’d grown hopeful that if I had it ready and waiting in the kitchen, he wouldn’t require me to drag my butt down to The Bean day after day. It hadn’t happened yet, but I still held out hope.
Rowan and I had managed to work out some semblance of a schedule over the past five days. I started work by checking his calendar to make sure his schedule was up to date before moving on to his hundreds and hundreds of emails. I trashed all the hate mail—of which there was a ton—and all the naked pictures sent in by female fans—of which, shockingly, there were more—and typing up a generic thank you to those who weren’t rude or wildly inappropriate. Those tasks alone took over two hours, and in the past week, I’d learned things about Rowan I’d never be able to unlearn.
After that, I went through the invites he received to different charity functions or galas. Who knew an author got invited to so many important black-tie events? I worked with Lauren to accept those he needed to attend and decline those he didn’t. I handled any and all social media, seeing as how the ‘uncle fucker’ scenario was still fresh in people’s minds. Then there were the errands that never seemed to end, keeping in contact with all the other players: his agent, a weasely, beady-eyed man I’d quickly grown to dislike; his personal stylist, a young, peppy girl only a year or two older than me I seemed to have a lot in common with; his housekeeper, an older Hispanic lady named Rosa, who I found to be quite intimidating after a run-in that involved a glass of spilled orange juice on my part; and the rest of the PR team at Enterprise.
I’d gotten a pretty good feel for Rowan’s day-to-day life and I was feeling better about my position. He locked himself in his office, working on his next book, while I went about my ever-growing list of tasks. There was limited contact between the two of us, but what there was wasn’t pleasant. So I tried my best to steer clear of him as much as possible.
Pushing through the swinging door into the kitchen, I closed my eyes on a yawn and stretched my arms over my head, completely innocent in my actions and unaware of what I’d just walked in on until I opened my eyes.
“Oh, my God!” I shrieked at the sight of Rowan’s buck-naked body standing in front of the opened refrigerator, one hand holding a bottle of orange juice to his lips while the other hand was much… lower, scratching at a certain body part that no employee shouldeversee of her employer. No matter how… well-endowed said employer was.
Holy shit on a shingle, I did not need to see that before being properly caffeinated.
“What the hell!” Rowan bellowed, startling me from my momentary stupor.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” I spouted, frantically spinning in a circle, trying to make a split-second decision between shielding my eyes and getting a better look. A startled yelp escaped me at the brush of Rowan’s naked flesh against my arm as he moved past me and into the living room. I couldn’t help but notice just how perfectly sculpted his butt was as I followed behind, enjoying the view a little too much. I had to bite down the sigh of displeasure as he snatched a pair of boxer briefs off the back of the couch and yanked them up his thick thighs, covering up what, in my opinion, should have been made available for all the world to see.
“Jesus Christ!” he shouted, pulling my eyes up from the decent-sized bulge behind the gray fabric of his underwear. “Do you have any sense of personal boundaries?” he asked sarcastically, running a hand through his messy black hair agitatedly. “How you managed to convince Lauren you were a professional is beyond me. From what I’ve seen since you started working here, you don’t know your goddamned ass from your elbow!”
And that’s when it happened. I snapped.
“That’s it!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “I’ve had it with your narcissistic, self-centered ass! My work day starts at eight-thirty in the morning. Eight. Thirty! Not nine, not nine-thirty. Eight-thirty! It’s been that way for six days, so if you made the decision to wander around with your beans and franks hanging free when youknowdamn good and well I’ll be showing up at any minute, that’s your problem, not mine! I’m sick and tired of putting up with your whiny, bitchy attitude. And I lived in a dorm full of girls, all on the same damn menstrual schedule, so the fact that you’re worse than all of them combined speaksvolumesabout your character.
“I’ve given you six days to come to grips with this new arrangement and pull your head out of your ass and start acting like a normal human being, but seeing as that’s not going to happen any time soon, here’s how it’s going to be from here on out. I’m your personalassistant, not personal bitch, so starting now, you’re going to treat me with the level of respect I deserve, and in return, I’ll do the same. You want to keep acting like an asshole? Go for it, but believe me when I say I give just as good as I get. There will be no more insults. You areneverto talk down to me ever again. I graduated summa cum laude from NYU. I’m not an idiot and won’t tolerate being treated like one. Any and all activity that requires you to be inanystate of undress will be done onyourtime, not mine. Because believe it or not, I don’t get paid nearly enough to have to watch you scratch your balls.
“I am damn good at my job, whether you’re willing to admit that or not. And I’m tired of dealing with a petulant child masquerading as a grown man. This bullshit ends now. Do you understand me?”
