The Assistant

Chapter One

I smoothed out the front of my black pencil skirt, the tight polyester material was riding up my thighs again with every step through the marble lobby of Bower & Rosing's law office. Not that this was a bad thing, it certainly got me appreciative looks, just not from the people I wanted those looks from. As I approached the front desk, I smiled faintly at the receptionist and collected today's itinerary and files. She slid the large blue folio across the counter with a loud pop of her gum.

"Everything's ready for you Lydia, the only thing missing is the NDA," Jessa said in a bored voice.

"Thanks, I can print that off."

Bower & Rosing's was the leading corporate law office in the States, and I was lucky to even be considered for the assistant role to Jonathan Harris-Bower - firm figurehead and well-known shark. While it had started as a six-month temp position, it had become permanent recently. I wasn't complaining, it was decent pay and a great name for my resume.

I carried the folio under my arm as I approached the elevators, the sound of my Louboutin's clicking against the floor echoed through the glass and steel hall. As I rode the elevator up to the twenty-third floor, several lawyers were talking loudly on their phones around me and slowing the ride. I tapped my foot impatiently and checked my watch again, the meeting was in five minutes, Mr. Harris was going to be pissed if I was late again.

He was hot when he was angry, but I wasn't in the mood to face down his icy glare. I rushed down the corridor to the massive glass double doors, stoping and fumbling for my key card and trying not to drop my bag or the files in the process. I caught sight of reflection in the glass and paused to fix my hair, the platinum blonde ponytail had become frizzy and slipped mostly out so I just tucked my hair tie in my pocket - the long waves tumbling artfully down my back in the process.

As I pushed the door open Mr. Harris caught it, held it and took the file from me. "Miss Morrison," he greeted.

"Hello Mr. Harris, I have the itinerary for your meeting with Charles later and--"

"Cancel it, I'm having lunch with Patrick and I won't be leaving the office," he interrupted. "Call my daughter this afternoon as well, let her know I'll be late tonight."

He seems like he's already in a mood. "Of course," I murmured. I pulled my phone out and updated his schedule. "How was your weekend?"

Jonathan Harris was an attractive man; older – mid-forties, black hair with shots of silver here and there, and a perfectly groomed beard that was trimmed close to his face. His eyes were a glacial blue, sharp, cold and they had this uncanny ability to freeze someone to their spot until he was done with them. His build could also do that as well; around 6'4 and worked out three hours a day, every day. I knew, I controlled his schedule. He had just gotten back from Bermuda; his golden tan was stunning, and I felt myself blush as I thought about him shirtless on the beach. It was a drool-worthy vision.

"Uneventful; I spent most of it poolside and wishing I was back in New York." He flipped through several documents and his voice lacked any substantial emotion. "How about yours?"

I spent most of it masturbating to thoughts of you. "Oh, just stayed in bed all weekend, you know how it is."

"Sounds positively thrilling," he said with a chuckle. "Next time, I'll see about bringing you with me, I'm sure you'd prefer a working vacation over staying here."

I leaned back on his desk, my legs crossed and hands braced on the lacquered wood. "Well I won't be doing much work if that happens, I'll be too busy getting the perfect tan." I tried to stop the way my eyes roamed over his body hungrily, honestly, I did.