Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“What if I don’t want to stay your assistant forever?”
A strange pang hit me then. Isabel leaving me? Finding a new job? But no, that’s the whole point of this arrangement, it was my main selling point. She’d marry me, deal with my bullshit for a little while, then run like hell.
I can’t hold it against her, considering it was my idea.
So why does the thought bother me so much?
“You won’t. If you want to start searching for your replacement, feel free. In the meantime, I need you.”
“We could always offer Allison the job.”
“No, thanks. I’d rather pick up my own dry cleaning.”
Isabel looks at her nails. “You’re serious about this? You’ll really let me find someone to replace me?”
“I don’t want you to, but you’re right. You have more leverage now.”
She chews her lip. “I didn’t think that would work.”
“Don’t ever say I’m unreasonable.”
“But you are. I had to blackmail you to get what I want.”
“Now you know the way to my heart.”
“Stop it. I’m going to put up a job listing tomorrow, okay?”
“You know what it takes to make me happy.” I stare at her, wondering if she understands how much that’s true.
I’ve had other assistants. None lasted nearly as long as Isabel. I hated all of them for some reason or another—one little, dumb mistake, one annoying quirk, whatever, and they were fired. Done, on to the next.
But Isabel’s always been different.
She understands me better than anyone else before her.
Which means finding a replacement will be next to impossible, but I won’t stop her from trying.
“Have you thought about what job we’re offering Allison?” she asks, changing the subject as the car parks outside of the Lincoln.
I get out and hold the door for her. “I have some thoughts.”
“Anything she’ll like?”
“Probably not.”
“Wonderful.” She heads in through the front doors. I follow close. “I have some ideas too, but that’s not much she’s even qualified for.”
“I was thinking she could push a vacuum and fluff pillows.”
“Good luck selling that.”
I tilt my head. Isabel heads toward the elevators, but I take her wrist, holding her back. She looks at me with surprise as I grip tighter.
“This isn’t going to be easy,” I say, staring into her eyes. “I need you on my team, Isabel.”
“We’re married,” she says sheepishly. “Doesn’t get more team-like than that.”
“I’m serious. Allison’s going to be a problem, and we still have to make General Leyland happy with our damn story. We’re far from out of this.”
“I’m aware.” She cocks her head. “Are you feeling insecure right now?”
“No, I’m only thinking you tried to blackmail me once already today, and you might do it again.”
She pulls her wrist from my grasp. “I’m looking out for myself, that’s all. It’ll be weird if I’m both playing your wife and acting as your assistant. It’ll just be messy, that’s all.”
“I don’t mind messy.” When it comes to you.
“I do. I mind it a lot. So let’s avoid messy if we can, all right?”
“Whatever you say.”
“Now if you’re done with that wonderful pep talk, let’s go see if our guest is still in residence or if we have to start hunting her down.”
I grunt in reply as she stalks off again. Somehow Isabel’s taken control of this situation, and while I’m impressed, it’s also disconcerting.
She knocks me off balance. It’s always been this way with her, which is why I’m constantly teasing her, just trying to get some of the power back in our relationship. But it’s like Isabel knows what I’ve been thinking lately—that this marriage thing is a huge mistake, because I’m enjoying it far too much, and that’s a real problem.
It’s a mistake, letting her get close to me.
Even if it’s fake—trouble always seems to find the people I care about.
And I don’t want Isabel to end up like everyone else in my past.
Chapter 18
Isabel
It’s a small miracle when Allison opens the door. “Just so you know, I tried to leave last night but your asshole staff wouldn’t let me.” She slumps down onto the couch and pulls her knees to her chest. “You realize this is kidnapping, right? I could call the fucking cops. Why not just handcuff me to the bathroom? Since you’re holding me here against my will anyway.”
“You’re not kidnapped.” I sit down at the other end of the couch. Conlan remains standing near the door, his back straight. The mess from the day before is cleaned up, though I note that most of the breakable stuff in the room is missing and wasn’t replaced. Smart move on housekeeping’s end.
“Feels that way. Since I can’t freaking leave.”
“Consider this an extended vacation, just until your dad lets all this bad political stuff blow over.” I glance at Conlan, waiting for him to say something, but he only stands and glares. Which is all he’s good for. That and being handsome.