Page 158 of Sexting His Assistant

Nina already catches too much.

“You’re doing that thing,” she says.

I look at her. “What thing?”

“Thinking something and looking like it should be classified.”

“It is classified.”

“Gross.”

“You don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I can guess.”

Her cheeks warm after she says it, which tells me her guess is correct.

Good.

I step away from the fireplace and go to my desk. “The gala is Saturday.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“You’ll need a dress.”

Her eyes narrow immediately. “I own dresses.”

“Not for this.”

“That’s an arrogant thing to say.”

“It’s an accurate thing to say.”

She gives me a look that would make a weaker man reconsider.

I open my top drawer, take out a black credit card, and hold it out to her.

She stares at it. Then at me. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Luka.”

“Nina.”

“I’m not taking your card.”

“You need a dress.”

“I have money.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you handing me that like I’m about to go shopping for my first pair of shoes?”

“Because if you attend with me, you don’t pay,” I say simply.

“I’m attending as executive staff, remember?”