The Client (Professionals 8) - Page 16

“She doesn’t like me, Alvy,” I told them pressing a hand to my heart. “Can you imagine?”

“Judging by the three-hour rant phone call I got from your previous assistant when I first started, yes, yes, I can imagine.”

“Michel had very strong feelings on proper REM cycles. Feelings I clearly do not share. That’s why we work so well, Al, I never sleep. You are an insomniac. It’s a perfect relationship.”

“Did she tell you that she was going to come?”

“Not in so many words.”

“Did she say it in any words? In sign language? In Morse Code?” Alvy asked, smirking.

“Her eyes told me she was coming.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Alvy scoffed, reaching for their phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“The pilot.”

“For what?”

“To warn him that you will likely need to make a last-minute flight plan change to somewhere less romantic, and more party-focused when she stands you up.” With that, they moved out into the kitchen area to do just that while brewing a new pot of coffee, being a fiend themselves, and knowing I was always up for a cup. “Okay, so what is it about this one?” Alvy asked, handing me my coffee a few moments later.

“Hm?”

“Is she the daughter of a drug kingpin? A princess of a small country? A retired movie star. In her sixties?”

“That was one time,” I insisted, smiling at the memory. “And she was a hell of a time.”

“Until she slashed your tires when she found out you moved onto the woman who was playing her in the remake of her classic movie.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, lips twitching. “A movie under twenty years old can’t be considered a classic.”

“I was the one who had to handle the tire replacement and the press,” Alvy reminded me.

“I believe I got you an I’m sorry gift for that.”

“You bought me a ten-thousand-dollar living room set.”

“That sounds nice of me.”

“I don’t have a home,” Alvy told me, rolling their eyes.

“Well, why not? Do I not pay you enough?” I asked.

“If you paid me anymore, I’d have to start moving money offshore,” Alvy told me. “The issue isn’t that I need more money. It is that it is pointless to get a home when I am literally never there to spend time in it.”

“So? I have a home. I have… six? Is it six?”

“It’s eleven,” Alvy told me. “Though three of those are family estates, not fully yours.”

“Where are the extra two houses?”

“Let me preface this with saying that if you don’t know the cities and countries of your residencies, it might be smart to unload them. The most recent was a lodge in Colorado.”

‘That doesn’t count. That is a business.”

“A business with a six-thousand square foot home for the owner. That you keep fully staffed, but never visit.”

“How could I visit when I forgot it existed?” I shot back, smiling. “Maybe we should arrange to have someone rent it out. Or do one of those house shares there. Would that make it less ostentatious of me to keep it in my portfolio?”

“Slightly,” Alvy agreed. “And the other one is the condo above your favorite bar in Boston. So you can just drag your drunk ass up the stairs and pass out.”

“That seems like a solid investment. Anyway. I have houses that I clearly never visit. You could have one.”

“I could. But I don’t want one. Not until I can move into it full-time.”

“It sounds like you plan on leaving me one day, Alvy,” I observed.

“I am eventually going to burn out.”

“How shall I go on without you?” I asked dramatically, making their eyes roll.

“You’ll find a way. You always do.”

“My suits will likely always be wrinkled.”

“You can hire someone to be your personal clothing steamer.”

‘This is true,” I agreed. “And they likely won’t lecture me about my choices in women.”

“I wouldn’t either. If you chose one who was a good option for once.”

“Oh, they have all been very good.”

“For the pocketbooks of those you employ to fix your messes, I suppose that is true. I will have the art you purchased shipped back to the main estate,” Alvy said, waving at the canvases.

“That should do. We should visit the estate sometime this year. Pick the pieces to distribute to other places. It must be getting rather crowded by now.”

“You have purchased one-hundred-and-twelve paintings so far this year, so I imagine that is true.”

“Pencil it into the schedule.”

“Will do,” Alvy agreed, zipping my suitcases, then turning their attention to their phone. “Your flight attendant, Joy, wants to know if there is anything she needs to pick up for you and your guest?”

“What can I get that would impress a woman who appears wholly unimpressed by me as a whole?”

“A free trip back home.”

“Well, that won’t work. You’re supposed to be on my team here, Alvy.”

“Does she eat? Or is she like that poor girl last year who I caught nibbling on napkins to stay full without gaining any weight?”

Tags: Jessica Gadziala Professionals Billionaire Romance
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