My Life as Duke Starr's Assistant

My Life as Duke Starr's Assistant...[Part 19]

"So you're sure you don't want the pink one?" I asked Duke again. He glared at me.

"When have you ever seen me wear pink?" he growled.

"Considering I've only been following you around for about six months, I don't think I have enough experience to respond to that question," I told him. I could see his eyebrow twitch in annoyance.

"You wear it," he said, shoving the shirt back into my hands.

Duke had given me the task of buying him a new shirt that he could wear to Paris Hilton's birthday party that he was invited to. Even though he had tons of new shirts he could wear, he insisted that I buy a new one for him (just to annoy me). So I figured that since it was Paris Hilton's party, and that she likes pink, I would get him a pink collared dress shirt so he could get her attention. Apparently, he didn't think this was very funny.

"This is a boy's shirt," I pointed out, holding out to him. He stepped back from it.

"Then it's perfect for you," he replied. I gave him a sarcastic glance.

"Good one. How long have you been waiting to use it?" I retorted.

"Since I realized how manly you were," he answered, his blue eyes flashing with glee.

"And I guess I bought the pink shirt because I realized how womanly you were," I responded. He took my head and wrestled me into a headlock. I started laughing, trying to fight him off.

"Get off me!" I yelled.

"Take it back!" he said.

"You started it!" I cried.

"And you should end it!" he replied.

I frowned and then realized something: his hand was within biting distance. Perfect. I reached out with my mouth and licked his hand. He shouted in disgust and let me go, glaring at me.

"Ha. Ha," I said, sticking my tongue out at him. He wiped his hand on my shirt and I pushed him away.

"You are the least girly person I have ever met," he said to me.

"Just for that, I'm going to wear a super short denim skirt and a hot pink polo tomorrow," I told him.

"Go ahead. You have nice legs," he replied, smirking at me. I aimed a kick at his shins, which he dodged by jumping back a little.

"You are the world's biggest tool," I told him.

"Have you met all the tools in the world?" he asked me.

"I don't need to, when the king is standing in front of me," I answered. He pinched my nose and I slapped his hand away, grinning.

"So seriously, you need to get me another shirt because there is no way in hell I'm wearing this," he said, tossing the shirt at me again.

"I paid like $100 for this," I said, throwing it back.

"So? It's my money," he replied, tossing it on a crumpled mess on the floor by the couch.

"Duke! You can't waste your money like that! Go return it and buy another one!" I scolded.

"No, that's you're job. My job is to sit here and do nothing," he said, plomping down on his couch. I frowned.

"One of these days, I'm just going to quit and you're going to have to do everything by yourself," I told him.

"You won't quit," he said, flipping on the TV.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Because one, you need this job. Two, you're too damn proud and arrogant. And three," he paused, smirking up at me. "I know you're secretly in love with me," he said. I grabbed a pillow from the couch and hit him on the head with it. He chuckled lightly to himself.