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I just wanted it to be fucking simple.
“There is one more option, I think.” Hannah clears her throat. “It’s clear Vanessa Dumas wants something. I suspect she’s using this for leverage to get her foot in the door with TV execs to launch her career.”
That’s the problem.
No one uses Shepherd Foster.
“Iwashelping her career. That was the whole deal,” I grind out. “Bringing her to these events gave her attention she wouldn’t have had. If it was too slow or she couldn’t figure out the rest, that’s hardly on me.”
“I never said it was, sir.”
“Well, I’m not buying her silence, Miss Cho. She’s cost me enough.”
“Obviously not.”
I stare at her.
She’s been with me long enough to know I’d rather fight a pack of wolverines with my hands tied behind my back than roll over for anyone. Maybe some parts of a man’s bullheaded upbringing never die.
Besides, if anyone finds out I paid off Vanessa with favors, won’t that be worse?
“No deal. I’m not bribing her with more favors or anything else. I won’t stoop to sleazy backroom tactics.”
Hannah doesn’t blink.
I’m not my damned uncle,is what she really hears.
“Of course not, Mr. Foster. I’d never imply it.”
I glare at her, but her expression doesn’t change.
She’s a hard woman to read, and normally, that’s what I like most about her.
Today, it’s one more uncertainty.
Fuck, she’s the best assistant I’ve ever had, and that’s partly because she’s impervious to any of the crap I throw at her.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s a biological android, flawlessly programmed to be professional, polite, generous, and capable.
Not warm, necessarily, but I don’t need buttery smiles.
When it comes to an executive assistant, I need efficiency, and Hannah’s skills are almost terrifyingly so.
I know she’s not here hashing out the bad news without some defense percolating in her brain.
Idle gabbing is not how Hannah Cho does things. She’s solution-oriented like a crossbow hunter is arrow-oriented. She’s already mapped out all the possibilities of how this might go down today, tomorrow, and for the next three years.
“Will you sit?” I say, gesturing to the chair. “Tell me what you’re really thinking.”
Hannah perches on the edge of the chair. Her bob is glossy, not a hair out of place, and the lace blouse emerging from her pant suit clings to her neck. She’s severity itself, no-nonsense and simple, which I like. The only piece of jewelry she’s ever worn is a silver chain necklace from her grandmother with a small dangling swan.
“I have an idea,” Hannah says. I knew she would. “One thatdoesn’tinvolve a poorly thought out press conference or any weakness on your part. Perish the thought.”
I drum my fingers. “Go on.”
“It involves the new Young Influencers program.”
“The what?” I frown at her, drawing a blank.
