The Billionaire's Assistant

Chapter 22

They resume their seats and Jove pulls a cellphone from his pocket, beginning to type out a message. Kat picks at her cuticles nervously. She had no idea how long she was expected to be here but she wasn't sure how much longer she could be.

The whole situation felt dangerous, unnecessarily so, as if Kat was taking an enormous risk just by being in the same room as Jove. It was as if her secret lay just below the surface of their conversation, large and not quite yet identifiable but nevertheless threatening. She felt as if Jove somehow knew her, knew all of her, knew everything about her, and she feared that the precinct sense of relational deja vu would expose her.

Jove set down his phone and looked at her expectantly, as if he'd asked her a question. Kat, frustrated with the renewed flush rising to her face every time he looked her way, fought to form a sentence.

"Your dad," she started, speaking more firmly as she found her verbal footing. "You said you're hiding from your dad, why?"

"We're hiding from him," Jove corrected playfully. "Just," he frowns. "Not looking to talk."

"Why not?" asked Kat, preferring to overstep her bounds than face another weighty silence.

"I know exactly what he's gonna say, I just don't want to hear it," he responded. "Again." He looked at the silent Kat, dwarfed by the large chair she sat in, her feet dangling above the floor, and went on.

"He's ready for retirement." Jove narrowed his eyes at her, his grin widening. "You don't have stock in the competition, do you?" He asked, already laughing before Kat shook her head vehemently. "He wants to retire, he wants me to take over everything."

"Don't you already run everything?" Kat asked. "You're the CEO, what's a higher position than that?"

Jove chuckled dryly. "Founder. I've been running things for the last 7 years, since the day I finished at columbia basically, and it's been seven of fulfilling his vision, seven years of the company being my whole life."

"So, why wouldn't you want to take over? Isn't that the goal?"

Jove sighs, his expression more serious. "There are a couple things. Mainly our shareholders. A retirement, a firing, any shakeup in leadership at a company this size and it'll affect our stock price, it could have terrible implications for growth."

Kat nodded, loosely aware of the basics of what he was talking about.

"I'm approaching my 9th straight quarter of growth, and I've worked tirelessly for it, it's just not the time."

Kat nodded again, her mind leaping from thought to thought as if they were fragile, semi translucent lily pads. She had no idea that he actually worked, he was never here. She'd just assumed he had a vanity title while others did the work, but the worn expression on his face couldn't be faked. It was a mirror of the one she saw that morning when trying to convince herself today would be the day she'd find the information she needed, the one she'd made when she knew she didn't believe what she was saying.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and Jove looked at her, surprise and another emotion, more complex, intermingling on his face.

"Thank you," he said simply, his bravado dulled by the unexpected empathy. He laughs. "I'm not sure why I even told you that actually, I know it's in poor taste to complain about my problems in the face of yours."

Kat wrinkled her nose. "The face of mine? What problems do I have?

Jove shrugged. "Poor people always have problems. Money problems, what have you."

Kat squinted at him, suddenly incredulously. "You know," she began. "I make more money in this role than I ever have in my life."

"As an assistant?" Jove scoffed.

"Yes," Kat answered measuredly, her nerves dissolved by irritation. "I know you probably don't know this, but this position pays six figures."

"Yea, low six," Jove insisted. "It's probably barely $200,000 a year."

"It's $110,000 a year," Kat corrected.

"Jesus," Jove exclaimed. "How do you live on that in a city like this?"

Kat furrowed her brow. "You know, that's more than my mothers ever made in a year, she raised me on half that. Most people scrimp and scrape by on a portion of it, and you can't even remember if it's $200,000 or $100,000." She frowned. "Do you know the difference that would make for most people? An extra 100,000 a year?"

"All right, all right, I'm sorry," Jove surrendered, admonished. "That was my point, I shouldn't complain when you have more to complain about."

"I don't have anything to complain about, that's my point," Kat retorted. "You're just out of touch." As soon as the words left her mouth Kat's breath hitched in her throat. She'd gone too far.

Jove threw back his head and laughed, a real laugh instead of his suggestive chuckle.

"So get me back in touch," He replied. "How much did you make at your job before this one?"

Kat shifted uncomfortably in her seat, realizing that she was to be blamed for inviting the questions about her past.

"Well," she started slowly, mind scrambling. "Before this I worked at my college, I was in a work study program."

"And how much did you make?"

"Nothing. It helped cover tuition"

"What covered the rest?"

"My mom."

"And what does she do?"

Kat smiled, the image of her mother's face giving her courage. "She does everything. She's the best, she..." Kat giggled, realizing he meant for work. "She's the manager of a restaurant. A Greek one in Northside. Spatchy's"

"I'm always on the Northside, I've never heard of it." Jove said

"I doubt you would've, it's a little diner. You never would've noticed it."

"You'd be surprised what I notice," said Jove more quietly, his eyes locked on her.