“Thanks,” I say. Feeling awkward—again—I move into the bathroom and check out the toiletry bag, which seems to be all packed up correctly.
“See, I can do this. Just give me a chance. I know working with an assistant might be weird, but this is my first time, and I’m still learning. I promise I can do this for you.”
I can see the desperation in her eyes, hear it in her voice, and it makes me feel that much worse because I know that she wants this to prove to her dad that she can handle everything. Meanwhile, I’m in an epic battle of keeping my hands to myself and trying to sabotage her simultaneously by being her dad’s puppet. Guilt consumes me all over again.
“Yeah, you did a great job with the toiletry bag,” I say and move back into the bedroom, wanting to make her feel better. “And yeah, this sweatsuit outfit might look good.” I look through the cubes and see the vibrator that she chose, a simple flat-faced one that works great against my balls. “And my favorite vibrator,” I say. “Good job.”
“That’s your favorite?” she asks. “Interesting. I thought it might be, but I was just guessing. And I know what you’re thinking. Is it weird that I know what vibrator my male boss might like? The answer is no. I think personal assistants have to get on up there.” She motions her hands in an upward motion. “Really know everything about their boss to make sure to please them as best as possible. So I’m glad I know about your condoms and vibrators. Aren’t you glad?”
Oh yeah, really fucking glad. It makes me so goddamn happy.
Especially since I’m not allowed to use any of it on you.
Couldn’t be happier.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I reply uncomfortably.
“Okay, so this was a great learning moment.” She clasps her hands together. “I also set up your backpack in your office, but I wasn’t sure what you needed.”
I walk out of the bedroom and into the office, where I see a few Post-it notes from her on my desk.
The first reads a social media schedule that she must have written down for both of us.
The second one is a note that just says highlighters.
The third is one name: Patty Ford.
Confused, I point at the Post-it and say, “What’s this?”
She glances down, and then I watch her cheeks blush as she picks it up and crumples it in her hand. “Uh, nothing. Just a note to myself that I forgot to pick up. Oh, and here’s my highlighter one. Sorry about that. I wasn’t working here if you were wondering. I was just writing you a note and realized I forgot to grab my two notes.”
“Not a problem,” I reply, wanting to know who the hell Patty Ford is. I make a mental note to look it up when she leaves.
“Anyway, I have everything ready to go in your backpack and added some snacks. I know you get them from the team, but just in case you get hungry.”
“Great. Thanks.” I turn toward her and say, “Good job, Wylie.”
With pride, she puffs her gorgeous chest. “Thank you.” She follows that with a yawn and says, “Well, if that’s all, I need to get to bed. I’m exhausted.”
Actually, I could use you in the bedroom for a moment. Won’t take too long. Just need to suck on your tits is all.
“Yeah, sure.” I shift on my feet. “That’s it.”
“Great. Well, good luck on your away trip. Text me if you need anything, and I’ll keep working hard over here on your behalf.” She smiles brightly. “Good night . . . Mr. Posey.”
I roll my eyes, causing her to laugh. “Good night, Miss Wood.”
“Ooo.” She pretends to shiver. “I like the sound of that.” Chuckling, she takes off, and I follow her into the kitchen, listening for the click of her door before I turn out all the lights and head into my bedroom, where I quickly get ready for bed.
I’ll pack the cubes in my suitcase in the morning, so I set them to the side and strip out of my clothes to nothing before slipping under my sheets. I open my Google search on my phone and type in the name Patty Ford.
Maybe it’s a long-lost friend or maybe a travel blogger. Maybe someone she . . .
The Google results pop up, and all of them are X-rated.
No fucking way.
I click on the website under Patty Ford, and I’m immediately met with a hot brunette with huge tits and a curvy ass.
The banner picture on the website is of who I’m going to assume is Patty, completely naked and on her knees. Her hand and arm cover all the important parts, but fuck, is she hot. I scroll down and find videos of her masturbating and live sessions where you can get off with her.
Holy shit.
I wet my lips and explore the website a little more, feeling myself go hard with every picture and video I come across.
And sure, she’s hot.
But what’s really getting me hard is the idea that Wylie was interested in this website as well.
And there could be two reasons why: for her own personal pleasure, or for research. Either way, I fucking like it a lot.
I settle into my pillow and run my hand down my stomach, ready to grip my cock just as a text appears on my phone.
Fuck.
Talk about a cock block and an instant way to deflate things.
Coach Wood:Make her get bagels again tonight.
My stomach clenches, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Fuck. That’s the last thing I want to ask her to do, especially since I didn’t eat any of them today.
Levi:But she already got some, and I didn’t eat any.
Coach Wood:Does it look like I care, Posey? Make her get the bagels again.
Jesus Christ, why is he being such a dick?
Coach Wood:Don’t let me down, Posey.
Yeah, hearing you loud and clear, you ass.
Levi:Okay.
Groaning inwardly and completely out of the mood now, I pull up my text thread with Wylie.
If she didn’t think I was an asshole before, she sure as hell is going to think it now.
Chapter Seven
WYLIE
“I love you, but you look terrible,” Sandie says as she sits on my bed and stares at my useless body.
“I feel terrible.” I let out a yawn and sip some of the coffee that Sandie so nicely brought me.
“I can’t believe he made you get the bagels again. And he didn’t eat any. What the hell is that about? Is he stocking up to have a bagel party?”
“I have no idea. But if he asks me to get more tonight, I’m grabbing them from the local grocery store and passing them off as the good water bagels.”
Sandie chuckles. “I hope that you do.”
“And you know what? I went on Yelp to see if there was hype around these bagels, and there was some, but nothing spoke about the good water or the one-in-the-morning session. I think it’s all in his head.”
“Could very much be in his head. You know how athletes are. They’re all sorts of superstitious. Next time you’re near the bagel place, you should just buy two dozen and put them in my freezer so when he asks, you just have to drive to my place and grab them.”
“Oh . . . wow, I should have thought about that sooner.”
She pats my leg. “Blame it on the sleep deprivation.”
“I will, but yeah, next time I’m over there, I’m buying extra bagels and freezing them at your place. And guess what? I’m going to buy the bad water ones.”
“That will teach him,” she says on a laugh. “He make you do anything else crazy?”
“Not really. He seemed not to like my packing but then quickly said that he did like it and told me what a great job I was doing. It was a weird change of tone. Like he wants to be this tough guy but then pulls back for a moment. He’s hard to read. And oh my God, I didn’t tell you this, but when we were in his office, he saw a Post-it note I left for myself. And I have no doubt he looked up what was on the Post-it note.”
“What was on it?” Sandie asks.
“Patty Ford.”
“The girl I told you about?” Sandie asks.
“Yup, I wrote down the name because I didn’t want to forget, and then, bam, he saw it.”
Sandie shrugs. “If anything, he should be appreciative.”
I chuckle. “I guess that’s one way to look at it. I’m helping in all aspects of his life.”
“Did you see her logo contest, though?” Sandie asks.
“I did, and I started thinking up ideas last night on my drive to Port Hole Bagels and back. I think I’m going to draw some things up and see what you like best. It has to be sexy but not obvious.”
“And it would be great work because she’s offering a hefty prize for the winner. Maybe you can write in the entry form that you’re a woman entrepreneur like she is.”
“Ooo, good idea. She could appreciate that. Yeah, I think I’ll draw some things tonight or maybe tomorrow. I still have so many tasks to do on Levi’s list. I thought I’d be able to get more done, but between being sleep-deprived and having to drive around everywhere, I haven’t been able to do everything I want to. I still need to do the pencils and the Skittles. And then this stupid book,” I say, lifting the Vermont book. “Tell me when I’ll find the time for this?”
Sandie takes the book from me and flips through the pages. “Do you really think he has a love for Vermont?”
“I don’t know. He’s an odd one, Sandie. You should have heard Halsey yesterday morning when he saw that I went out and got Levi his protein smoothie. He gave him shit for it, and Levi had the guiltiest look on his face.”
“I don’t know much about him, but he always seemed chill to me from all the online interactions . . . that you’ve shown me.”
I shrug. Yeah, I’ve shown her a lot.
“Still, this rewriting thing is so weird.” She flips open the first page, and a piece of paper falls out of it.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Probably instructions on how he wants the book typed up exactly.” We both laugh, and she flips open the page. I watch her eyes scan over it before her jaw drops, and her wide eyes look up at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Oh my God, Wylie.”
“What?” I say again, scooting closer. “Is it a diary entry or something?”
She shakes her head. “It’s an email from your father.”
“What?” I shout as I take the paper from her and start reading.
To: Levi Posey
From: Will Wood
Subject: Your List
Don’t fuck this up, Posey.
Aside from regular tasks like social media, retrieving your food, arranging your calendar, and being at your beck and call, here are a few tasks you need to give her this week:
Hand her a copy of a book. I don’t care what book, but give her a copy of it. Tell her you don’t like the font it’s written in, and have her type it out in a different font. Yes, have her type up the entire book, word for word. Tell her you want it in a week for your away trip to the Northeast.
Spill something on your floor. Don’t care what it is. But make it disgusting. Tell her she needs to clean it up and make it seem like it was never there.