Page 39 of Tangled Roses
The cream cashmere sweater and a matching skirt is a delicious dream. It dusts below my knees, preserving my modesty, but has a split almost to my thigh. Pantyhose and cream soft leather heels dress me in business and I could be attending any kind of event at all. It is that well thought out.
Today, I brush my freshly washed hair so it hangs past my shoulders and I feel like a million dollars as I head out of the room. I kind of remember where to go and as I stride confidently into the living area, my mouth waters when I see Arman sitting at a glass table, a pot of coffee set before him.
He is reading the newspaper and doesn’t glance up as I head toward him and my heart sinks.
Why does he look so perfect and act as if he doesn’t want me anymore? I performed like a whore on her knees before him last night and I expect that’s how he sees me now.
I hesitate, unsure what to do next and he says with no emotion, “Sit.”
I drop into the seat on the other side of the table and he lowers the newspaper, peering over the top with an enigmatic stare.
He stares for a hot minute and I desperately try to see what’s going through his mind by his expression, but he merely shrugs and then folds the paper and places it on the table.
“I have a business proposition for you.”
He says simply and I nod, too wired to speak.
“You need a job.”
I nod, not really knowing what else to do, and he says coolly.
“I’m offering you one.”
I swear to God if he asks me to be his whore, I’ll toss that coffee pot firmly at his arrogant head.
“I need an assistant. Short term only while I’m in New York.”
“An assistant?”
My eyes widen. I can do this. I can assist. This may not be so bad.
“You will be provided with board and lodgings. Here in my penthouse. Your own room, of course, equipped with everything you need. What is your answer?”
“Okay.”
My voice is brittle and cold to match his and he frowns.
“What happened last night will not be repeated. Do I make myself clear?”
My face burns as he fixes me with a blank expression.
“Understood.”
My voice almost breaks because I feel so stupid. Cheap even and nothing as powerful as when I walked away from him.
“Today will be the first meeting we attend in your new role. You are required to listen, not speak.”
“That’s fine by me.”
It really is because I can listen. How hard can it be? I may not understand a word that he speaks, but I’ll listen to the conversation if it means I have a job.
I’m not sure if this is the right time to raise the subject of my salary, but he can obviously read minds as he says flippantly, “I require your bank details. There is a form you need to fill in to add you to my payroll. Your salary will be one million dollars.”
I must have blacked out there for a second because I’m hearing things.
I say nothing as he waits for my reaction and I must have gone pale because he slides a glass of water across the table toward me.
“The money will reflect your value to my organization. When I leave, you will live here. The money is a retainer. When I’m in town, I expect you to be available. To be at my beck and call and to follow my instructions.”