The Assistant

Surprise, Surprise

Roman's body tensed at the sound of high-heeled shoes tapping across the gray-stained wooden floors. His jaw clenched, and his grip tightened on the mahogany chair he held onto as he heard Magdalena's discourteous and disrespectful tone aimed at the only woman allowed to let her up. Roman settled on biting his tongue for the time being as he didn't want to make things worse before they had even begun, but Magdalena was making it difficult, and she hadn't stepped into the room yet.

Something in his gut told him that this meeting was going to go well at all. He chastised himself for being so shallow in his past that he was willing to overlook the woman's horrible personality for a quick lay. It was his own fault. Had it not been for his father's diluted religious beliefs, Roman would not have traded one sin for another simply because his father would have respected him for being a womanizer rather than bisexual. It was Roman's father's fault that he refused to feel anything but lust.

He grits his teeth at the memory of his father slapping him and calling him degrading names after he had learned about Roman and Cassius' erotic encounters. Roman closed his eyes tightly and shook the reminder away as the clacking of Magdalena and Valencia's heels drew nearer, making a mental note to send Eliza an apology for ignoring her advice in the past about his pig-headedness.

"And just so you know, after today, your services will no longer be needed in this office," Magdalena said to Valencia, oblivious that Roman was standing in the room.

"Magdalena, the only person who has the power to fire anyone in this building is me," Roman said in a low and stern voice.

"ROMAN. Mi amor (my love), how are you? You look as dashing as ever." She bit her bottom lip, ignoring what Roman had just told her.

His jaw ticked at her blatant disrespect. "Sit," he demanded, "Let's get this over with. My assistant and I have more important business to tend to. Valencia, the menus, please." Valencia nodded. Knowing she would be in the room with him helped him relax a little, but not nearly enough.

Magdalena scowled at Valencia as she handed her a menu and even more when Roman smiled warmly at her as she handed him a menu, too. When Roman noticed, he shot Magdalena a glare, and Magdalena forced a smile that looked like a sneer and a giggle that sounded more like a jeer. She touched her chest and coughed softly, trying to change her tone into a more genuine one, but Roman felt it would be more complicated than she'd care to admit.

Valencia stood next to the table like a waitress, waiting for Roman and Magdalena to give her their orders. When they did, she took their menus back. Before she could walk away, Roman grabbed her arm lightly.

"Don't forget to order yourself something, too, Ms. Reyes. You'll be stuck here with us."

Magdalena bit her tongue and tightly clutched her black Hermes Birkin bag, her burned green with envy, but she didn't dare say anything. Not now, at least. After today, Magdalena vowed to be the only woman Roman touched, and if any other woman dared to get close to him, she'd make sure they'd regret it for the rest of their lives. When Valencia left the room, Magdalena tried to make conversation, but Roman wouldn't let her. He didn't want her to say anything without Valencia in the room, as it could be used against him later, and that was a chance he wasn't willing to make.

It didn't take long for Valencia to return, sitting next to Roman across from Magdalena, who stared at her blankly. With her presence in the room, Roman could relax again, and Magdalena tensed again. The friction that the woman had for Valencia could be felt throughout the room, but Roman didn't care. He wouldn't survive this meeting without Valencia. He needed her there.

Again, Valencia pulled out her notepad and recorder and placed them in the middle of the table. With a pen ready, she readjusted her glasses and waited for either of them to begin. Magdalena was already bothered by the assistant; Roman wanted their conversation recorded, too. Who the hell did he think she was? A money-hungry harlot? She scoffed at the idea.