The Billionaire's Assistant

Chapter 26

"Everybody that lives there calls it the Beazelbee," she explained sheepishly, ignoring the glint in his eye when he mentioned tying her up. "Cause the name is weird," she finished, hoping to avoid her typical nervous ramble.

"The name is weird," He acknowledged. "And the units aren't cheap. I thought you said you just got this job, that you weren't making money before this."

Kat freezes. "I wasn't. I mean, I'm not, I'm still not. It is expensive," she admitted, her mind racing. "In fact, it's actually still too expensive for me, $100,000 is less than what it costs per year and that's what I make. She mentally crossed her fingers, relief flooding through her when Jove's knowing nod affirmed her guess about the apartment's price.

"I was wondering," he said.

"Well, it's rent control." Kat was thinking more quickly than she could speak and she paused briefly, not wanting to stumble over her words. "According to federal ordinance 32.61b and the precedent set in Kenra vs. Brooding, real estate developers have a responsibility to slate a certain percentage of funds towards the development of housing options that align with the income level of the median state population, regardless of the location of their development."

The lie rushed out of her mouth as if rehearsed, her ability to lean into a fact heavy, attention numbing ramble finally working in her favor.

"The majority of developers take advantage of the loose wording surrounding the location clause," she continued. "And build other, cheaper units far downstate, outside of the bounds of spirit of the agreement of course, but still technically legal. The Bronners," she informed, blessing Mrs. Protgolio for a hatred of the building so intense she insisted Kat had googled the owners names so she could spit after saying them. "The Bronners however, they're foreign investors and developers, they don't have backing from American banks, this all came straight from their pockets." She was spinning a web now, potentially adding too much as she was entirely unsure if Jove knew she wasn't telling the truth, but she couldn't stop now. "They didn't have the money to build another complex downstate, they couldn't afford it. So instead, they just rent one of the units for ridiculously cheap, it balances out their percentage, and everybody's happy."

"Wow," said Jove. "You're like a little encyclopedia, aren't you? You know everything."

Kat blushed. "Yea," she said simply, looking up to see the building pulling into view.

She took a deep breath. "Thanks so much for the ride," she said. "Bye."

She turned to the door and realized she had no idea how to swing it open as Jove had, saw no obvious handle or latch. Jove sidled the car up alongside the curb, put it in park, and then looked at her, the unreadable expression, slowly becoming more interpretable to Kat, back on his face.

"Do you want me to do it for you," he asked, indicating towards the door's latch. "Or do you want me to tell you how to do it."

Kat swallowed, determined not to read into his words. "I'll do it," she said firmly, switching the phraseology to avoid any innuendo. "Tell me."

He smiled as if pleased at her reaction. "Slide your fingers up there," he said, indicating to an unassuming ledge with a flick of his chin, "And pull your hand this way, towards me."

Kat did as she was told and the door swung smoothly open, the singular person on the sidewalk staring at the car's cartoonesque proportions.

She stepped out and pushed it closed as Jove rolled down the passenger window.

"Thanks again," she said, leaning into it a bit to see his face.

He smiled at her. "Anytime." He stayed, waiting. "What? You think I'm gonna go before you get all the way home safe? We just talked about the kidnapping, Kat, c'mon."

Kat paled. He wanted to see her go inside? She swallowed hard. "Yea, well I actually gotta go to the grocery store first."

Jove grinned. "I'll take you. And bring you back."

"Well, and then I need to make stops." She stuttered. "I need to go to my moms. And the bank, and I'm, I'm getting my nails done."

She wasn't sure where the last made up task came from and she winced as the pale bloomed into a flush.

"Well, I'll call you a driver," said Jove patiently, "then I'll wait with you till he gets here, he'll take you anywhere you wanna go, and when you're done, he'll make sure you get into the apartment." His eyes sparkled devilishly. "For safety's sake."

Kats heart dropped. He knew she didn't live here, he must've known she was lying from the start. Already caught, Kat steeled her resolve, ready to take a risk. He clearly wanted to see her go inside, or at least wanted to see that she couldn't, and so she only had one option, to try.

She could pull the handle then pretend she forgot her key, or maybe try and buzz a random number as if she were putting in a code, hoping the apartment was occupied, the occupant was in the state, and they'd let up a complete stranger trying to enter their luxury 'concept'.

"Actually, you know what, I'm wiped," she said with a voice as casual as she could muster. I'm gonna take a nap first, thanks!"

She turned heel and all but fled to the door, her anxiety propelling her to rush up the steps. She paused for just a moment and tugged the handle, her face already screwed in the confusion she knew she'd have to feign. To her surprise, the glass door opened smoothly, and Kat stepped into the campy, decked out lobby, not believing her luck. She turned and waved to Jove through the glass, who gave her a one handed wave and drove off, a bemused expression on his face.

"Can I help you?" a chirpy voice asked, and Kat looked up to see a woman in her mid 40's at the lobbies colorfully adorned front desk, her kind brown eyes smiling alongside the rest of her face.

"Hi," said Kat quickly. "Yes, well no, I mean..." she paused, collecting herself, then decided the truth was the best course of action. "That was my new boss," she admitted. "In the fancy car. He was dropping me off and I told him I lived here cause I didn't want him to know where I really live. It's not as nice," she added truthfully.

"I get that," the woman agreed good-naturedly. "I'm basically in the same boat, I work here with all these luxury units but I live in a studio on Eastvale."

Kat winced, recognizing the street name from the group's outreach work.

"Whatever you're thinking of, it's gotten worse," says the woman, and the two strangers shared a laugh.

"Is it ok if I wait here for a second before I walk home? Just in case he's still out there?"

"Of course hun, stay as long as you like," the woman replied. "Us working girls gotta stick together."

Kat shot her a grateful smile and turned to sit in on the lobby's many mismatched chairs, the space resembling an abstract sculpture field more than a seating area. She chose a blue sphere supported by a seemingly inconsequential matching blue spiral that affixed it to the chair and sat, looking around as she did so.