His Personal Assistant

31. | Stupid Idea

Rhys and I have been sneaking around all week.

We kiss in the private of his office — nowhere else in case someone sees us — and we spend every night with each other. I practically live in his penthouse, at this point.

We often watch movies together, or we just hang out. Of course, we also have sex occasionally.

"Hey," Rhys falls into step with me as I stare down at the tablet in my hand.

"Hey, you have a meeting with Mr. Oswald at two, and later you have a meeting at club LUX with Mr. Simpson." I look up in thought. "I wonder what it's like to have the same name as an animated character." I shrug, refocusing on the tablet. "Tomorrow, you have three meetings back to back in the morning until two. That starts at eight, and—"

"Okay, slow down." He stops me, grabbing my shoulders. "Let's focus on one thing for now. Take a deep breath." I do, and he follows with me. "Relax, okay?" I nod.

"I'm going to go grab a coffee. Want one?"

"No, I'm good. I'll be in my office." I nod, walking to the break room.

Turning around the corner, I don't realize someone is there until I'm bumping into them. My tablet falls to the floor. "I am so sorry!" I bend down, picking up my tablet.

"Naomi?" I look up, my face falling.

"Jackson."

"What are you doing here?"

"I-I work here." I stammer, shock still stunning me.

"You? Work here?" He laughs behind his hand. "Is that a joke?"

"No. I'm serious."

"As if anyone would ever want to employ you." He snorts. "All you're good for is taking care of your sick old daddy."

That hit hard.

Jackson had never been physical, but he had been very verbally abusive. Always degrading me. Always bringing my dad up. My mom.

What is he doing back? Just when my life started going up, it all went downhill.

"What's going on over here?" Jackson's mood changes.

"We were just having a nice, civilized conversation." He smiles fakely at him. "Weren't we, Naomi?"

"Of course. A civilized conversation." I smile fakely, as much as I don't want to. I turn and walk. "I'll be in your office."

He reaches for me, but I dodge him.

***

I had gone to get a cup of coffee that I hadn't when I went this morning, but Jackson found me and caged me in.

"Here's the deal," He leans against the counter behind me. "I won't say anything to your boss, if you don't." He smirks.

"You have nothing against me." I shake my head. He has nothing, no proof.

"I believe this company has a no flirting with clients rule, does it not?"

"I would never come onto you." I sneer.

"Your boss doesn't know that."

"He won't believe you."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." He tilts his head with a fake pout.

"He won't." I shake my head.

"Keep your mouth shut, or we'll find out. It's your decision, Naomi." He pushes away from the counter, grinning at me before he turns and walks from me.

I just have to stick it through. I'll be fine, I think to myself. But will I?

That night, I had gone home without Rhys. He seems to notice that something is wrong, but it's nothing he can fix.

I sit in my father's living room on the couch. On the fireplace, pictures line the banister. The fire cracks and crinkles, illuminating the room in warm lighting. But I feel anything but warm.

I dated Jackson for two years, and it was the worst two years of my life. He started nice, but overtime, he stopped. He grew angry. Wouldn't let me do anything without him. Degrading me because he was older than me.

My eyes glance around until they land on the closet. Pulling myself up, I walk to it. I open it, looking around inside of it. At the bottom, there are golf clubs. My father must have kept them.

Grabbing one, I study it. I close the closet and walk to my phone, grabbing it and dialing a number.

"Hello?"

"I got an idea, but I have a feeling it's a really stupid idea."