Kian

“Tell me you’re not ordering from Escape.”

“Oh.” She stopped as she was rounding for the next level of stairs and turned with big eyes. “No.”

Oh, no.

“Crap. I didn’t even think of that, and there’s already been a request put in for Escape. One of the head honchos here is buddies with the new owners of Escape. That’s why you guys deliver to us.”

She started back up, but I caught her arm. “Wait. New owners?”

“Yeah.” She frowned at me. “You didn’t know?”

“No.” And why didn’t I? But I didn’t have time to ponder that.

Erica was through the door and heading for the conference room. The tables formed a U with the opening having a podium and a marker board on the wall. Susan was standing behind the podium, talking with a few other people. She glanced up at our arrival and stiffened. I felt her eyes on me, but I ignored her and slipped into the chair beside Erica.

I couldn’t quite remember the reason Erica wanted me there—oh, yes, I was there to distract Susan by just being there. My presence pissed her off, and as she kept staring at me, I could tell it was working.

Score one for Erica.

Susan cleared her throat and held a hand up, drawing attention from everyone in the room. She pointed to the door. “Marcus, can you shut the door? Let’s get the meeting going, shall we?”

A guy did as she’d asked.

Erica leaned toward me and whispered, “Told you she’s on a head trip. Hope you’re ready for some nausea. Her ego trip makes me want to hurl on a daily basis.”

“Erica,” Susan called out, her beady eyes fixed right on my roommate.

Erica straightened in her seat. “Yeah?”

Oh, snap. I was ready for some drama to ensue.

Susan was going to call her out, but she pointed to me and asked in a tight voice, “Would you like to introduce Jo and explain her presence to the team? And while she’s doing that, has everyone put in their orders on the sheet? We scrapped the order for Escape. We’re ordering pizza instead. I’m going to make the call right now.” She held up a piece of paper. “It looks like pepperoni, cheese, taco, and Hawaiian? Any other requests?”

And I missed a hit with that one.

No one voiced a different opinion.

Susan narrowed her eyes, staring at me. “Go ahead, Erica. Do your introduction. Since I know what you and Jo like, I’ll be right back.”

She sounded polite.

She looked polite.

But I did not get the polite vibe from her. Susan left the room, but my tension remained on my shoulders. No way was I going to be the fool and relax around her. That would be like a snake playing dead, pretending to be an ugly-ass necklace. Hell no.

Erica held up a hand and pointed to me. “This is Jo. She’s going to be my assistant during the interview tomorrow.”

Someone started to raise a hand, but she shot him down with a glare.

“And, no, she’s my assistant, not yours, Geoff. She won’t be getting you coffee or sandwiches during the day.”

His hand went back down.

Some of the group laughed, and someone asked, “What about back rubs? She looks like a good masseuse.”

I wrinkled my nose. “No way.”

They laughed again as that one person groaned. “All the pretty ones don’t like to give back rubs. Where did the good assistants go?”

“To Human Resources,” a woman called out, “to report sexual harassment, Bob.”

He grumbled, grinning, as he waved a hand, dismissing her. “Yeah, yeah. What about the men? I would never claim sexual harassment. What do you say, ladies? New girl?” He looked right at me, as did everyone else. “You ever want someone to be your assistant, you let me know.”

I had a feeling this was some form of hazing. I never looked at Erica. I knew she wasn’t going to say anything, so I lifted my chin and stared right back at him, and I was honest. “I will tell you right now. If I ever find myself in a position where I need an assistant, you’ll be the very last person I consider.”

The group remained silent.

They were still testing me out.

Bob asked, “Why?”

I didn’t hold back. “Because I absolutely hate back rubs.”

The group laughed then, and Bob nodded, grinning at me. “You’re all right, new girl. Erica, you did good with your choice, not that you really need an assistant. But, hey, if my best girlfriend wanted to come see the new celebrity, I would have gone that route, too.”

Erica stiffened in her seat. “Jo’s here to help me out, and that’s it.”

Someone snorted, “Not like she could even get close to Kian Maston. The guy’s going to be surrounded by his team of lawyers and his publicist.”

It was my turn to stiffen in the chair.

Erica gestured to the other person. “Exactly. My assistant won’t be leaving my side. Bob, you’re just cranky because my request to have an assistant was approved—unlike your request. Everyone knows any assistant of yours would sue for sexual harassment within the first week.”