I arch a brow. My concerns weren’t the only thing he ignored.
“It was presumptuous of me to assume you had things under control when I was…distracted,” he adds.
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?”
If so, this is the worst apology in the history of apologies.
“I made mistakes. Plenty of them, actually.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But I hope to correct them today.”
“And how do you plan to do that?” I ask, curiosity unfurling low in my belly.
“I’m prepared to beg.” He flashes an impish grin that has my stomach dancing the jarabe. “But I’d hoped that doubling your salary and hiring a second assistant to lighten your workload would be enticing enough to secure your return to Triada.”
I freeze.
Did he just offer todoublemy salary?
And get me my own assistant?
I must have gotten a contact high from Gran. That’s the only rational explanation. Any minute now, the metal yardimals will start dancing circles around us, singing kumbaya.
“I need you, Lucy.” His eyes meet mine, soft and pleading. “I’m a mess without you.”
He needs me?
My heart stutters, and a warm glow that has nothing to do with the sun spreads through my limbs, warming me from the inside out.
Mierda. How long have I waited to hear those words? How many times have I fantasized about this very moment?
Too many to count.
“My schedule is in chaos,” Miles continues, as if checking items off on a list. “The endorsement deal with Keke and Zane fell through. My email is out of control. And I forgot to check the sensitive skin box on the laundry form, so now I’ve got a rash on my ass that’s itchy as hell.”
Each word lands like a blow, crushing any illusions I have about a future with Miles.
It’s not me he needs. Not really.
It’s his perfect assistant. The one who kept his life in order and did everything she was asked, without question. The one who went above and beyond to smooth out the wrinkles in his scheduleandhis laundry.
Does it matter?
The man just offered to double my salary. And an assistant would lighten my workload. Maybe even free up enough time so that I can build my photography portfolio.
It’s the best offer I’m going to get, because he simply doesn’t see me the way I see him.
He never will. The offer is proof enough of that fact.
My mind spins, considering all the angles. When I took the job working for Miles Hart, I knew his reputation.Hartthrob. That’s what the Austin gossip blogs call him, and I can’t deny it’s a fitting moniker. There’s no shortage of women in Austin eager to share his casual approach to sex. I should know, since I managed his calendar for two years.
It was the reason I promised myself I wouldn’t catch feelings.
And how long did that last?
Six. Freaking. Months.
“What do you say, Luce?” He takes my hand in his and squeezes it gently. “We make a great team.”
My resolve wavers.
