Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 14

The mug in my hands is still steaming with the hot coffee I just poured. My eyes look out over the almost quiet city. All the lights shining brightly in the dark of the night sky. The clock on my oven shines out in the dark of my apartment. It's only 3:17am in the morning. But today, me and Isadora are going to Las Vegas together. At 4:30am.

   Sleeping has never been an issue for me until last night. I could barely shut my eyes without the image of Isadora forming. I don't think I got much sleep.

She's always there. Always in my mind.

I slept for maybe four hours before I woke up and decided to take a shower. It's been at least an hour since then and I can't help the warmth flooding my chest at the thought of her with me as we travel. We're going to be going in my private jet. Isadora can get whatever she wants while we're on our flight.

Ah, shit.

She normally wakes up at 4:25am. She won't be able to get her coffee. The mug of coffee in my hand lowers with my arm, the thought crossing my mind as my eyes travel along the view of the city.

I can get her, her coffee. From that one place a few blocks away from my office. Maybe she'll forgive me for the little argument we had yesterday. Yes. That's what I'll do.

The dark sky does nothing to brighten my apartment. All my lights are off. The only light coming from the appliance clocks. It's quiet, very quiet. The only sound being my gentle breathing. My chest exposed to the cold air of my apartment. I always keep my air conditioning on, I like it cold in here. But either way I sleep without a shirt on. Doesn't matter if I'm cold or hot. It just restricts me when I sleep and I hate it. So my boxers and sweatpants are the only thing I wear to bed. It's quite nice actually. Never socks. People who sleep with socks on are crazy. I'd rather let my feet freeze than wear socks to bed. So fucking weird.

My phone illuminates the kitchen where it lays on the counter and confusion pulls at my brows. The glass of my mug clinks against the marble countertop, my fingers slowly unwrapping from the handle. I stare at my phone, the screen bright with Isadora's name. My heart leaps, my hand instantly grabbing my phone and bringing it up off the counter.

Isa: Formal or not formal?

Suits. Fuck. I didn't even think about it. I mean, it is a business trip. But what does she normally wear on a trip? Does she even want to wear a suit for hours on a jet? For hours in my Lamborghini with me?

I know she'll wear whatever I tell her too. But that just makes it worse. I want her to be comfortable. But then she might get confused.

My fingers are quick over the letters as I type back.

——————————————————————
Isa: Formal or not formal?

Me: Formal

Isa: Ok, I'll be at the office by 4:15

Me: Ok, see you there

Isa: Bye
——————————————————————

I let out a breath, the exhale sounding too loud in my silent apartment. The best thing to do now is to go finish packing my suitcases.

With another gentle exhale, I slip my phone into my sweatpants pocket and grab my warm glass mug again. It feels like Isadora's touching me. The way the warm glass makes me feel.

"She has a boyfriend." I tell myself. Though myself hates it. She's not mine to be with and I have to respect that. Even if it's bullshit.

My body takes me through my apartment. My eyes trailing over the view from my large windows as I walk by. It's truly an alluring sight. I wonder if Isadora would paint it for me. Right in my dining room. Set up her canvas and paints, softly taking glances as time goes on to get the details just how she likes them. Little paint splatters on her cheeks and on her hand as she works. I wonder what it would be like with her in my apartment. If she would hum a little song as she works. Maybe even turn on some music or just turn my large TV on.