Page 69 of The Rebel Billionaire

My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. Is this why I’ve been invited to lunch?

I put my fork down, shrinking slightly under Sophia’s gaze.

“He asked me to collect his suit for the charity event he was attending last night.”

“I know. He told me. What on earth were you thinking?”

I place my hands in my lap.

Is this a trick question?

Looking up, I meet her gaze. “I was thinking that my boss had asked me to collect his suit from the dry cleaners.”

She raises her eyebrows.

“What else was I supposed to do? I couldn’t exactly say, sorry, no can do. I can just see his face now.” I frown at Sophia. “I work for him. He’s my boss. What he says goes.”

Sophia tuts, shaking her head.

“That’s what I thought. Brooke, as Sandro’s PA, you have the power to delegate. You could have called downstairs and asked one of the gofers to collect it. It did not need to be you personally.”

I open and close my mouth a couple of times before inclining my head.

“I can do that?”

Sophia chuckles. “As Sandro’s PA, darling, you can do a lot of things. But that’s not why I’ve raised it. You need to be more careful. That could have been a disaster. Imagine if they hadn’t asked and simply filmed you instead.”

My stomach flips at the thought. “I know.” I sigh. “I was awake half the night thinking about it.”

“You dropped the ball.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My son is perceptive. Your response did not match the level of concern he was expecting.”

I know I was shaken when I got back to the office, probably more than a little. I’d nearly spilt my water twice just by lifting the cup. Had he noticed?

Shit!

“When did he tell you this?”

“Last night at the charity gala we attended. My son values honesty, directness and authenticity. With him, what you see is what you get. If he finds out about any of this, it could cause problems between us, and I will not stand for that. I’ve put my neck on the line to help you. Do you understand? If it’s a choice between you and my son…”

I nod.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I understand, and I’m sorry. I promise to be more careful in future.”

She nods before picking up her knife and fork. “Make sure you are. You must stay out of the public domain. As I explained before, St Clair is a safe space. Cabs everywhere, no more strolls around the block. No nights out. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” I say.

I force food into my mouth, my appetite now gone.

Is she kidding me?

She gets me a job that involves me facing people every day, has not shared my enormous secret with her son, my boss, and announces it’s a huge problem if he does find out, but chastises me when he puts me in a vulnerable position that could expose this whole damn shit show.