"Donato, remember who pays your salary," I warn him, eyes locking in on his in the reflection of the mirror. "You walk out now, we're done."
"Honestly, Kaito, I was going to firemyselftonight. There's nothing more I can do for you. I'll reach out to the manager tomorrow and ask what needs to be done to complete my contract."
Donato slips out of the room with a mutteredgood luckto my assistant, and just like that, I'm down a dance instructor.
Great.
As if I wasn't already flagging behind already, let's just add one more mishap to the list of things I have to deal with now.
My ire, however, finds a new target as I spin on the beat and extend my arm, once again failing to make the clean arc that Donato intended for the choreography. "Dammit! Why won't it work?"
Denali walks across the room, but I'm paying her no mind, because all my focus is on getting this right. Ihaveto get this right, dammit. There's no other option?—
The music cuts off just as I move in to repeat the move, and I overcorrect in my confusion and spin right into Denali herself, who is standing behind me with the power cord to the damn music machine in her hand. Dangling, unplugged.
I manage to stay upright, and not knock her over at the same time, but it's a feat.
"Denali, for fuck's sake, what are you doing?"
She stares at me like a lioness might stare down her dinner on the savannah in Africa. "It's time you ate something. You're going to fall over dead if you don't. And then you won't haveto worry about nailing the spin or not, because you'll be too far underground to do more than let a few worms spin around in your coffin wood."
A morbid image, to be sure. "You have a fucked-up sense of humor, woman."
"And you have the stubborn bull-headedness of an ass. Mycatacts better than you, and he's a rescue."
"You know, you're pretty ballsy for being an assistant." I wonder if she's ever really just been my assistant. She acts more like a helicopter parent, honestly. Or?—
Or a girlfriend.
"Yeah, well, you don't have many friends, from what I can see. I figure the least I can do is give you someone to talk back to, right?" She grins, and I roll my eyes, and it feels so natural it's eerie. "Besides, if you wanted a regular, normal assistant, you wouldn't have taken me on."
"Fair and valid," I say, parroting one of her little motivational podcast's sayings back to her. She doesn't think I'm listening when we're in the car and I'm'napping,'but I am. I pay more attention to her than she thinks. "But here we are."
We're at a standstill, she and I. I don't want to stop to eat, but as much as it pains me to admit it, she has a point. I haven't eaten all day. My body can only take so much abuse. Perhaps I've hit my limit for the day.
"What did you bring me?" My voice is impressively calm compared to two minutes ago. "Hopefully something healthy?—"
"I brought you a greasy trio of tacos from the street vendor outside, topped with a million pounds of vegetables, doused in hot sauce and sour cream that is guaranteed to clog your arteries if you make it a habit." Her eyes soften as she looks at me, like she pities what she finds before her. "Which you won't. But once in a blue moon won't hurt you, and you could use the calories."
"Agruably, I don't need that many calories," I insist, but when she picks up the bag, I follow, because the scent of the food inside it is insanely enticing. And I'm not an idiot. If this is what she brought me, like she said, as long as I don't make it a habit, I'll be fine. "But since you already bought it, I suppose I can humor you this once."
She nods to herself as a small smile crosses her lips. "Good, because I can't eat it all myself. You think tacos will go to your waist, you should see how fast they go to a woman's hips."
I look at her hips and grin. They're not bad, as far as hips go.If she weren't my assistant?—
"Did you get me something to drink, too?"
We sit down along the far wall, windows looking out over the city skyline. She hands me a bottle of sparkling water, the brand I like, in silence. And just like that, I stop moving long enough to realize Iamtired. Iamhungry. And I need to thank her for making me see what I refused to look at too closely.
"Thank you," I mutter under my breath, popping the cap of my bottle of water. In one gulp, it's nearly half finished. "I needed that."
The smile on her lips is still haunted, but it's an improvement. "Yeah. I know." She looks at me out of the corner of her eyes, and I see something there in the depths of that gaze that make me worried. She's not all here with me, a part of her is focused on something I can't see. And that could mean very bad things for my schedule, and her mental stability.
I can't afford to lose her right now. She's doing so well, and I really like having her around. She'e unlike anyone who's ever worked for me before, and I think I like that. But something still bothers her, and until I find out what it is, there's nothing else I can do.
So I take the tacos she offers me and eat next to her in companionable silence, until the only thing left at the bottomof the styrofoam container is excess grease and a few chunks of lettuce. And then without a word, I pack up, take her hand, and lead her to the waiting car.
I make Roger wait outside her apartment until she's safely inside, like always. But tonight, something feels different.
