The Billionaire's Assistant by Gray Mackenzie

The Billionaire's Assistant by Gray Mackenzie

Author:Gray, Mackenzie [Gray, Mackenzie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Summer House
Published: 2020-02-01T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 19

Leila

“So.”

I peek at Peg from the corner of my eye as I rifle through the line of dresses hanging in the dress shop. That single word makes me tense for reasons unknown. “So.”

The older woman pulls out a long blue gown with silver beading along the neckline. She tilts her head, studying it. “Too sparkly.” She puts it back. For that, I’m grateful.

Almost a full minute passes in silence before I pause my perusal of the gowns and face her, crossing my arms over my chest. Byron insisted I shop for a gown for the Alzheimer’s Charity Gala, so that’s what I’m doing, with a hefty amount of reluctance. It’s not like he held a gun to my head or anything, but I sense he and I moving in a direction I’m not sure I want to go in.

The shop itself is a tiny thing, yet stuffed with silk and chiffon, ribbons and crystals. It’s sparkly, like a diamond, and has the shiniest, polished marble floors I’ve ever seen. Considering the evening wear costs more than five times my monthly rent, I’m unsurprised, really. Peg and I have been here for thirty minutes and I’m only just starting to relax. The shopkeeper, a hawk of a woman, continues to track me as I wind my way through the store. It’s like she knows I don’t belong.

When another minute passes in silence, I sigh. Peg isn’t someone who cracks easily, but I can’t say the same thing for myself. “Are you going to explain that whole so thing?”

Peg shrugs, though her eyes dance behind her glasses, making her appear decades younger. “You and Byron.”

I choke out what may be a curse. Or a prayer. It’s hard to say. We are not going there. The memory of sharing laughs and surprisingly good conversation over drinks with my boss brings a flush to my cheeks. Then my mind wanders to other moments, like the feel of his palm burning against my bare thigh. The way his mouth dipped near my ear.

The worst part? I wanted to kiss him—badly. I haven’t thought of Pizza Guy since.

“Wh-what about me and Mr. Schaffer?”

Peg sends me a knowing glance. “Something’s changed between you two. I don’t know what, but I can feel it.”

What I’m not planning to do: divulge every single detail of my run-in with Byron last Friday.

What I do: divulge every detail of my run-in with Byron last Friday.

To her credit, Peg listens to the entire story without interrupting. It pours out of me. Peg is the second person I’ve told, the first being Charlie, who screeched over the phone at my news, claiming my boss totally wanted to get in my pants. I told her it wasn’t like that, even though I wonder how big his cock is. I bet it’s massive. A donkey dick.

Peg sounds like she’s having a heart attack. I lunge toward her, thinking she’s going to collapse, my features pressed in concern. “What? What’s wrong?”

Her skin is white as a ghost.



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