She doesn’t miss a beat. “It’s cheaper than Starbucks.”
She has her hands on her hips, and I almost can’t help but smile again. It’s like old times.
The savory, soft texture damn near melts on my tongue. “It’s really good.”
I start to leave, hearing her behind me. “What about my compass?”
“I’ll see you later.”
I don’t know why I just don’t tell her that she can have it back. A deal is a deal.
But I’m not ready. I’ve carried it with me every day for eight years. I never leave my apartment without it, much less the country.
I unlock and push through the back door, stepping into the alley before she can yell at me more.
“Good morning,” Isobel chirps, pushing her rectangular frames up the bridge of her nose.
I stand in front of the kitchen counter, tightening my tie as I glance at my assistant on the laptop screen. “Good evening,” I reply since it’s the end of day in Dubai where she is. “Shoot.”
She sets a file aside and looks at the screen, but not at me, as she reads away. “Al Mazrouei & Rao approved the suggested changes, but want a tour of the progress so far,” she tells me. “I scheduled them to meet you at the site on Monday.”
I nod, grabbing my suit coat. “I’ll be back.”
“It’s in your calendar.” She fingers a pen as she continues. “Also, Generation Industries is on board for the plumbing and mechanical for the Stewart multi-use.”
“Send me—”
“I already got with legal and finalized the contract,” she says. “The client has it.”
A text rolls in, and I pick up my phone.
Gym tonight?Lance asks.
“Julia Khan”—Isobel goes on—“called about her son again.” She looks at me point-blank. “Are you absolutely sure you wouldn’t like an intern?”
I start tapping out a reply to my friend. “I am absolutely sure you would like an intern,” I retort.
Eight PM,I tell him.
My assistant tsks. “I resent that. I was only aiming to help by adding to his view count.”
I throw her a smirk as I set my cell down, both of us remembering her being very interested in his social media when we first received his résumé.
Isobel Chen has worked for me the past five years, and while she’s impressive on paper—born in Shanghai, educated in Britain, speaks five languages, well-traveled…—I was nervous about being a single man and hiring a woman. I didn’t want her getting any ideas.
But I quickly realized I was too old for her. At only twenty-eight, even men her own age are too old for her, apparently. The girl is a hunter.
She goes on, “I finished the expense report and emailed an outline of the research.”
I click through my mail. “I see it.”
“Bill needs you to call him sometime tomorrow…or today”—she corrects herself, given the time difference—“and South Korea has decided the downtown lot is the best.”
I bring my mug of coffee to my lips. “Well, they’ll have an excellent view of the Burj Khalifa.”
“Prestige by proximity,” she sings in her posh BBC lilt.
“Precisely.”
