Lib Novel Page 36
“I asked, who’s the girl?”
“Who?” I absentmindedly run a hand over my jaw.
“Your special someone. Who else?”
“It’s Daisy.” And not anyone special.
“Daisy,” Jimmy repeats slowly.
The word, tinged with awe, sends a zing of uneasiness my way.
“It all makes sense now. How did I not see it before? You and Daisy? Of course. She’s funny, intelligent, and beautiful. She knows how to handle you and keep your tantrums in check. You’re so different around her. There’s no one more perfect for you than her.”
“What the hell are you saying?”
My tantrums? Daisy handling me? What am I, a dog?
“You’ve never been seen with anyone because you spend all your time hiding away from the media with her.”
Jimmy’s words slowly start to sink in as my phone continues to buzz incessantly with sounds of incoming texts. Shareholders who were reluctant with me taking over as the CEO of Hawthorne Holdings are inviting me and my imaginary fiancée to dinners and charity balls.
There’s a knock on the door, and I swiftly turn off the TV.
“Jimmy, I need to end the call.”
He responds with a hum, possibly still in shock, but I have bigger things to address right now. Like my assistant poking her head through the door after another knock.
“Are you on a call?” she whispers, eyes wide, and I shake my head slowly. She’s dressed in a sky-blue skirt and a matching silk blouse. “Thanks for these, by the way.”
Daisy motions in the general direction of her body, and my gaze momentarily drifts to her girls.
Focus, Charles.
“I was going to pay you back immediately, but after seeing the price tag, I realize I might have to sell my soul in order to do so. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to pay you back in installments.”
“I’m not asking you for your money.” I amble back to my chair.
“No, you’re not. But I can’t just randomly accept clothes from my boss, right? It would be wrong and unethical on so many levels. And why would you pay for my things anyway? I am your assi—”
“Daisy, stop.” I hold up my hand. “I’m not taking your money, period.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t need your money.” This woman can be so infuriating sometimes.
Are you seriously considering doing this?
“Then can’t you say it’s a gift?”
“What?”
She tweaks her nose in pure annoyance. “It’s a gift, Daisy. How hard is that to say?”
“Is it your birthday? Or some National Assistant Day?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s not my birthday. But you don’t pay someone for a gift. If you say it’s a gift, I know you don’t expect me to pay you.” She looks at me with blazing eyes, as if I’m the one at fault here. Me, the person who bought her clothes and is refusing to take any money for it.
“Daisy, my competent and cherished assistant,” I begin, but she snorts, those squinted eyes crinkling as she smiles. Something zaps through me like a lightning strike. Outside of my family, she’s the only one I’m this comfortable with. “There’s no one in the world who can replace you in this office. And for everything you’ve done for me and this business, I’d like you to keep these clothes as a thank-you.”