His Assistant - Billionaire Romance

CHAPTER SEVEN

"YOU'RE DOING WHAT?!" Amy screeched, dropping her phone in shock. I let out a surprised squeak and picked it up for her as she stayed in the same disbelieving position. "You're going to be a prostitute for the night?!" Amy asked, in the same high-pitched tone of disbelief.

I frowned, not liking the way she was taking the news of me being an involuntary volunteer for the charity dinner on Saturday. "It's not like I'm doing it by choice," I grumbled, sinking onto the soft mattress on her bed. "Plus, Adrian said he'll take care of it. I'm sure he won't let me go home with a stranger..." Or at least, I hoped he wouldn't. Ever since our tiny disagreement last Friday, Adrian had been giving me the cold shoulder the entire week so far, only talking to me when it was necessary.

"No way. There is no way in hell that I am letting you go through with this. Not you! No! You won't even look at a guy on the street unless you knew him well enough to know his middle name!" Amy jumped onto her queen sized bed beside me. Unlike me, Amy had to wear flannel pajama pants no matter what season it was – in contrast to my underwear-only policy.

"Like it said, I'm not doing it by choice. I'm his assistant; I have to be one of the candidates. Just, don't worry about it. Can you just go crazy again and find me a dress? Buy yourself a new pair of heels while you're at it as well; your snakeskin Louboutin's are getting kind of worn out." I threw a meaningful glance in the direction of the pointed, red outer sole of the snakeskin printed heels in the corner of her bedroom.

Her disapproving expression suddenly changed to one of excitement. "$5,000 to spend!" she declared with a determined expression. "Ah! Okay, let's do this." She got under her bed sheets and placed the silver laptop on her thighs. She lifted the screen open and I decided that I was going to catch up on some television while she went shopping for a dress.

"No colour scheme this time, right?" she asked, casting a sideways glance at my zoned out expression. I shook my head, not taking my eyes off the television.

"You know, I think Adrian will end up doing something really romantic on Saturday that will assure you that your private parts are safe from those horn dogs. You just wait and see." I turned around to give Amy a flat expression at her smug smile, then it occurred to me that I hadn't actually told her that we got into a slight disagreement on Friday night, because I was bombarding her with questions about her night.

"About that..." I began, a sheepish smile crawling onto my lips.

Her head snapped in my direction so fast, that I thought her neck had broken in the process. "What. Haven't. You. Told. Me." She said slowly, glaring.

I picked at my nails before meeting her eyes again with a guilty smile. "Please don't kill me! I had just forgotten to mention it to you..."

"Well, hurry up then! What happened between you two?! I swear to God, Emily Johnson, if you have withheld the news of a shared kiss between you two I will suffocate you with my pillows." Her eyes narrowed even further into a death glare.

"No, no! We did not kiss. That won't happen, believe me. We did... kind of get into a fight on Friday night though."

"Over what?!" she exclaimed, and she put the laptop down on the space between us. My eyes briefly flickered over to the bright screen, and I saw rows of gorgeous dresses, but couldn't stare at them any longer because Amy snapped the laptop shut with her hand.

"Sorry. It was really nothing. I don't know why he's still upset over it. I mean, it's not like I haven't rejected him before..." I trailed off, my own thoughts stopping me from continuing the story. Why was he so worked up over it? I mean, the last time I had gone over, all we did was sleep and eat brunch together. It was nothing major.