“Where it will never see the light of day again,” I say with a straight face.
That draws her two steps closer. “What does that mean?”
“It’s ugly as hell.” I smooth a hand over the top of my steel desk. “I didn’t want to subject another person to that misery.”
She twirls a piece of her hair around her index finger. “Duke will want it back when he returns to the office.”
“Your devotion to the man is misguided.”
Her nostrils flare as her eyes widen. Her irises are popping with more gray than blue today. “Duke was the best boss I’ve ever had.”
“Until now,” I point out.
“The best boss I ever had,” she repeats.
Shot fired. Target missed.
I lean back in my chair, my hand adjusting the dark blue tie around my neck. “I’m not here to win a popularity contest, Isabella.”
“Good.” Her hands drop to her hips. “You’d lose.”
Her attitude makes me want to dig my teeth into her shoulder as I pump my dick in her…
I shake off the thought.
I’ve had female assistants in the past, but not one has ever gotten under my skin this way, and we’re only on our second day.
“I’d like a cup of coffee.” I change the subject before I say something in response to her insult that I’ll regret.
“There’s coffee in the break room down the hall.”
I laugh.
Her hand moves to the center of her chest. “Why are you laughing?”
“Get me a coffee.” I glance down when my phone chimes. “No sugar, no cream.”
“I’m not that kind of assistant,” she stresses the last word. “Duke always got his own coffee.”
I look to the left, before gazing to the right. “Duke isn’t here.”
“Right now,” she adds.
If she wants to hang tight to the hope that Ivan will reinstate his son at some point, that’s her pipe dream. It’s not reality.
I signed a three-year contract for this position with a yearly seven-figure salary and a list of perks that put hers to shame.
“My coffee.” I rest my hands on my desk. “Or would you prefer to discuss what happened at Atlas 22 the other night?”
Her expression shifts from indignation to shock. “We don’t have to talk about that. It was an unfortunate misunderstanding.”
Her cheeks bloom pink. She’s embarrassed.
I found her kryptonite.
“How’s Dale?” I ask with a perk of my brow. “The actual Dale. How is he?”
She stomps a shoe on the floor. “I’ll get your coffee, Mr. Adwer.”