Page 24 of His Assistant

“Hell yes!” she says without even asking why. “I don’t have to be at work for a few hours yet.”

That’s why I love Maya. She’s always down for an adventure, and she can usually tell how badly I need one without me having to say a word. I get up, get dressed, and head to our favorite brunch place. She meets me there fifteen minutes later looking like a model who’s just walked off the runway.

“I look like a trashcan next to you,” I complain.

“Sorry, babes, I already had my makeup done when you called. I just switched out my scrubs for a dress.”

I roll my eyes. “You also have impeccable genetics,” I remind her.

“So do you.” She laughs. “And you don’t look like a trash can. But you do look stressed as fuck. What’s going on with you?”

I shrug and look down at the menu I memorized ages ago. I can feel her eyes burning into me.

“Sofia Bellini, I’ve known you for seven years. You can’t keep a secret from me even if you want to.”

I sigh heavily and slap my menu down. I know she’s right. There’s no point in hiding this from her.

“I slept with Dominic,” I blurt out, and wait for the bomb to drop.

She stares at me blankly for a long moment. I didn’t think it was possible, but I think I’ve rendered the great Maya Chen speechless for the first time in her life. Then, she bursts out laughing. It gets so out of control that some of the other patrons look over at us curiously.

“Holy shit, Sofia,” she exclaims through big, fat tears that are falling down her face. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“Maya,” I groan. “This is serious! I’m having a legit crisis here.”

“Okay, okay,” she breathes, trying to get control of her laughter. “Tell me everything.”

So I do. I lay out everything, from the party to my dad’s debts to Dominic paying them off without me ever asking.

“And how exactly did that lead you two to the horizontal tango?” she asks mischievously. “Was it hot, angry sex?”

I groan into my hands just as the waitress walks over to take our order.

“Honestly,” she says, “I’m proud of you. You never do anything impulsive. Remember that guy you had a crush on for like six months in our freshman dorm? You were too scared to even talk to him.”

“I was eighteen and had never had a real boyfriend,” I remind her. “Believe it or not, I’ve changed.”

“Clearly.” She smiles. “But, admittedly, sleeping with your boss is probably one of your worst ideas.”

“It wasn’t even an idea,” I argue. “It just sort of happened.”

She looks at me pointedly. “So you didn’t find him hot as hell before last night?”

“Well, I⁠—”

“Come on, babes,” she interjects. “It’s okay to say you found him attractive. It’s even okay to say you maybe fantasized him from time to time.”

My face flushes as I remember his words from last night. Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?

“Oh, my God, you’re thinking about him right now!” she squeals. “I can see it on your face.”

“Maya,” I groan. “I wanted to hang out with you so I could feel better about the situation, not worse.”

“Okay, okay,” she replies, chuckling. “I’m sorry. I’m just really having a hard time wrapping my mind around all of this. I’m like weirdly proud of you.”

“Not helpful,” I shoot back automatically. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

She takes a sip of her drink and nods thoughtfully.