Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Silence stretches between us when Lissa leaves, and Shayla still refuses to meet my gaze.
"She's right, you know."
Shayla glances up. "About what?"
"You should be one of us."
She shrugs. "Not everyone wants to be a lawyer, Mr. Kontides."
"Indeed. But you do."
She rises to her feet, and so do I.
"We should head back to office—"
"I've already told Milos to drive you home," I interrupt her. "Take the afternoon off. I'm sure you'll need time to prepare for tonight's ball."
Her eyes widen. "Are you talking about the fundraiser—"
"Yes."
"But you're supposed to attend that alone," she protests. "And I already told you I had plans—"
"I bought that for a second," I acknowledge, "but then I remembered that I've known you for nine years—"
"Eight and a half."
"Is that really the hill you want to die on?"
"Actually—"
"Do not push me on this," I warn her coolly. "I expect you to be with me this evening. And that's my final word on it."
"Fine." And then she just leaves.
Typical.
All the other secretaries who had worked for me before Shayla were either crybabies, sycophants, or gold-diggers. Sometimes, all of the above.
Shayla was the only one who dared speak her mind to me, to the point of being rude. The only one not to flinch even no matter how many times I lost my temper. And unfortunately for both of us—
She was also the only secretary I've come to realize was a woman.
And a very desirable one at that.
Chapter Six
ADRIANO
TONIGHT'S BALL IS JUST like any other ball I've attended my whole life. First, as my billionaire father's only heir. And later, when I've made a name for myself, as one of the most successful attorneys on the East Coast.
When you attend them long enough, they start looking and feeling the same. It's just the same people over and over, and no one seems tired of playing the same game over and over as well.
But at the same time, tonight also feels different.
Because of her.
Shayla.
One look at her, and it's clear to see she's decided to let her hair down, both literally and figuratively.
The shapeless clothes have been replaced by something short and silky, and the sight of Shayla in it has me torn between wanting to keep her by my side and asking security to escort her out.
What the hell's she thinking? Does she not realize that all a guy has to be is five-foot-six and as soon as he looks down at her dress, he'll immediately find twin mountains of joy bared to his sight?
I shrug out of my jacket, and she blinks in surprise when I dump it over her shoulders.
"I'm not cold—"
"You are," I say in a steely voice, "and you'll stay cold if you know what's good for you."
My secretary rolls her eyes. "Oh, please—"
"Mr. Kontides!"
A blonde in a skintight red dress charges toward us, dragging an equally young brunette, and both of them looking barely old enough to drink.
"I told Candy we'd see you here," Red Dress gushes. "My dad's partner is, like, totally obsessed with your cases. I'm Stennie, by the way. Pre-law at Columbia."
Her friend extends a slender hand. "Candy. Also Columbia. Your TED Talk on corporate liability was life-changing."
Shayla's lips slowly press together, and I glare at her. If she so as much smiles, I'll kill her.
"We're, like, super passionate about social justice," Candy continues. "We'd totally love to pick your brains about it. Maybe we can get together—"
I nod at Shayla. "If you give her your number, she'll be in touch."
The two girls look at each other in confusion, and when they realize I have nothing else to say—
"Oh, um...okay." They give Shayla their numbers and look at me in confusion one last time before reluctantly saying goodbye because it's getting a little too awkward, even for them.
My secretary clears her throat. "So..."
"Don't."
"About your TED talk..."
I never did one, and she knows it.
"Shut up."
"I think she's just made that up as a pick-up line," Shayla suggests piously.
"Or maybe she, like, had me confused for someone else."
This has her laughing, and I'm, like, enthralled. Completely.
"You should still feel flattered though." Her voice is just oozing with sincerity. "Those two were half your age, and they obviously still think you're hot."
I'm saved from saying something caustic when someone jostles her from behind, pushing her closer to me. For one moment, her body is pressed tightly against my chest—
And my arms automatically tighten the moment I feel her stiffen.
"If you don't let go of me in the next three seconds," she says under her breath, "you'll have people start talking."
"Let them."
Consternation flashes in her eyes, but this only makes me want to hold on to her more tightly.
"Mr. Kontides..."
She's glaring at me as she says this, but it only makes me realize that the angrier my secretary is...
Shit.
The moment I realize where my thoughts are heading, it feels like someone's dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over my head. It's one thing to realize that Shayla can look pretty damn good when she cares to wear something else aside from her shapeless sacks. But to start thinking that I'm also attracted to her?