Page 5 of Falling For My Assistant
“Excellent!” he replied, a smile splitting his face in two. “I will need to get a tuxedo, since it is black tie, and it would be bold of me to assume, but would you need a dress to wear?”
Erin stared at him, contemplating what she had just agreed to.
What are you doing? Are you really going to pretend to be your hot boss’ girlfriend?
Yes, yes, she was.
“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, not hearing his question.
“Will you need a new dress?”
“I—” She mentally went through her wardrobe, pulling the images of everything she owned up as fast as she could.
“I think so. I don't know if I have anything fancy enough to wear.”
“Okay. Can you be ready to leave in two minutes?” he asked, gathering his cell phone and keys together.
“Wait. Two minutes?”
“Yes.”
“I can. But why?”
“We’re going shopping for tonight.”
“It’s the middle of the day, though.”
“Erin, the party starts at eight. It’s noon already. We’ll need to get a tuxedo and your dress. A friend of mine owns a salon, and she owes me a favor. You can get your hair, nails, toes done, all on me. As a thank you for going tonight.”
She looked down at her nails, her polish chipped and missing in big chunks. Her gaze moved to her toes, the polish grown out about halfway.
“It would be nice to get them done,” she said, glancing back at him.
“I’ll be glad to do it for you,” he said, grabbing his coat and slipping it on. Urging her from her chair, he ushered her out of the office to her desk, waiting for her to grab her things.
“I’ll have someone clock you out later, so you’ll still get paid for the rest of the day,” he said, assisting her with her coat.
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” she replied. She grabbed her phone and tucked it into her purse, following him as he strode to the elevator.
Sean was over six feet tall, and even at five-eleven, Erin still struggled to keep up.
They were quiet on the elevator ride down, Erin staring at his reflection in the gold doors, still unsure if she should be doing this or not.
You already agreed. You’re stuck.
There were worse things than pretending to be your hot boss’ girlfriend all night.
Beats spending New Year’s sitting on your couch, again, eating ice cream alone.
The ding signaled they were in the lobby and the doors opened, letting them out.
“See you later, Bentley,” Sean called, with a short wave to the security guard.
Bentley looked at his watch, then back at Erin who shrugged and waved as she rushed out the glass doors.
“There’s the car,” he said, pointing to the black town car.
“Right behind you,” she said.