“Spence?”
“Huh?”
Emily shakes her head in exasperation. “You know, I could have made other plans for lunch today,” she says pointedly. “You’re the one who wanted to do this.”
“You’re right, sorry. What were you saying?”
“I was talking about the AC demolition. Maybe you should take Will with you?”
“Um, yeah…maybe.”
Em’s face lights up. “Okay, great. I’ll let Maya know when she needs to cover for him.
Um, wait…what? But, of course, I can’t tell my sister I didn’t actually agree with her, because then I’d need to tell her why. And admitting that sharing the close confines of a limo backseat with my assistant for the entire drive to Atlantic City scares the hell out of me just isn’t something I’m willing to do.
8
Will
* * *
In the four weeks I’ve been working at CPG, I’ve seen Spencer Cox all of three times; once for that bizarre interrogation about Shay, once when he paraded a beautiful brunette past my desk and flirted with her right in front of me, and once when he paraded a beautiful blonde past my desk and flirted with her right in front of me. He’s always holed up in his office by the time I get to my desk in the morning, and very, very rarely does he leave before I do. Or even leave at all.
In fact, I’ve come to wonder whether there might be an escape hatch of some kind in his office because that would definitely explain a few things.
“What’s with that look on your face?” Maya asks, voice full of wry amusement.
I spare a furtive glance for the opaque walls of Spencer’s office before leaning in closer to Maya. “Is he always so…cut off?”
Maya chuckles. “Hmm…well, he does like privacy, but he’s been a bit worse than usual the past few weeks, I can admit that. He’s got a pretty good reason though…” Oh my god. She knows! “He’s had a lot going on,” she continues. “You know, all the legal stuff? I get why he doesn’t want to interact with people right now.”
Oh, right. I slump back against my chair, relieved to know my paranoia isn’t warranted. “Right. Of course.” I attempt to get back to work, but a niggling thought makes me lean over to pester Maya again. “But is it weird that he doesn’t talk to me?” I ask. “I’m just getting all my instructions in email and text…”
Maya considers the question for a moment, her expression forming into a thoughtful frown. “It’s not how he’d usually work with his assistant, that’s true. But I guess he’s just being cautious after what happened last time…”
Or maybe he’s trying to avoid me because he’s uncomfortable about the fact that I fucked him in a public hallway of a gay club and evidently the whole world thinks he’s straight. I obviously don’t propose that theory to Maya, though.
Spencer Cox: Isaac will pick you up IN front of the building at 2pm this afternoon
I stare in confusion at the text. Usually when Spencer’s driver takes me somewhere it’s to courier something that needs to be delivered urgently, or to pick up dry-cleaning that can’t possibly wait until the next day…something like that. But I haven’t received any instructions for a task like that so I have no idea why Isaac would be driving me somewhere.
Me: Is there something you need me to get for you? Or take somewhere? I didn’t get an email or text about it
Spencer Cox: Just meet the car at 2
Spencer Cox: Please
My brows shoot up at the second text and I can’t help letting out a soft little chuckle at the idea that he re-read his message and realized how terse it sounded.
Me: Okay. Got it
As usual, when I meet Spencer’s driver at the limo, he opens the door for me and waits for me to slide into the backseat before closing the door and moving to the front of the car. What I’m not expecting this time, however, is to find my boss already seated in the car when I slide in.
I blink at him several times as I try to rein in my surprise. “Hey. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“We’re going to the same place,” he says with the barest of smiles.
“And where’s that?”
“Atlantic City.”
My head snaps around in shock. “Atlantic City? Are you serious?”
He nods. “Deadly. They’re levelling the site for a hotel complex we’ve got in development.”
“So…I get to see them blow something up?”
“Yeah.”
I let out a low whistle. “Damn, that’s cool.”
“I’ll also need you to take some photos and notes,” he says.
I shrug. “Yeah, no problem, I can do that.”
Spencer gives a little nod of satisfaction. “Good.”
I spend the next little while trying to sneak glimpses of him from the corner of my eye; eventually I give up on being furtive and decide to just steer into the skid of staring directly at him.
“Uh, what are you doing?” Spencer asks warily as I continue to scrutinize his features.
“I’m checking to see if it’s actually you. I’ve been worried you might have been killed and a robot was feeding me orders in your place. But now I can see you’re breathing so either you’ve been alive this whole time or this is some seriously advanced AI technology.”
He arches a skeptical brow. “You thought I was dead?”
I shrug. “It seemed like the logical explanation for the fact that I’ve now worked for you for almost a month and have seen you a grand total of three times. I mean, surely someone as mature and professional as you wouldn’t go to extreme lengths to avoid their PA just because they felt uncomfortable?” Oh shit. I so hadn’t planned to bring this up. I honestly didn’t even think I was that bothered by it anymore after my chat with Maya, but apparently my mouth thinks otherwise.
Spencer lets out a soft sigh. “Alright, I may have thought it would be a good idea to put some professional distance between us.”
I scoff. “Professional distance? Spencer, Taylor Swift and Kanye have a closer working relationship than we do.” I shift around a little so I can face him directly, fixing him with as sincere a look as I can muster. “Look, just so you know, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to jump your bones every time I walk into your office,” I assure him. “And you really don’t need to parade a bunch of Victoria’s Secret models in front of my desk and talk about what you plan to do with them. I definitely get the picture.”
Spencer’s forehead creases. “What are you talking about? I don’t know any Victoria’s Secret models.”
I roll my eyes. “Please. What about that woman a few weeks ago? In the black dress. She said you were hers for the next hour and if you didn’t behave she’d gag you.”
His brows shoot up almost comically. “Mariana? She’s one of my lawyers. She was talking figuratively.”
“Oh. Well what about the other night? That woman you left with?” I press. “You told her you were going to ‘own her’,” I lift my hands in air quotes to emphasize the words. “And she said she’d be the one on top.”