Page 6 of The Grump’s Assistant

VINCENT

I fold and unfold the note for the hundredth time since I first read it last night.

Work harder. Just kidding. I was trying reverse psychology. Did it work?

She’s teasing me. And I like it.

Not only is Juniper intelligent and thoughtful, she’s playful. And even a little bit cunning. I can’t remember the last time I had a burger. Who has the time to work something like that off at the gym?

My schedule is very regimented. Every minute is accounted for.

Five hours of sleep, ninety minutes in my personal gym – usually laps in the pool or kickboxing, then off to work.

I give myself thirty minutes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, though most times I eat while working.

I end the day with the news, a book, and a final look at the stock market.

The point is, it’s going to take me extra time to work off that burger.

I already have one indulgence; my boysenberry cream scones.

I don’t need more junk food to be addicted to.

Juniper knew that, too. She knew I’d never choose a greasy meal, but also that I wouldn’t throw it away.

She played me. And I can’t stop thinking about her.

In fact, I spent half the damn night fantasizing about a different kind of indulgence. Fuck, I’m sitting here at my desk, hard as a fucking rock as I run my fingers over Juniper’s note and remember my dream from last night.

I don’t even know what she looks like, but her voice… Jesus, I imagined her full, pouty lips as she told me to fuck her deeper, harder, goddamn , her whimpers fill my ears even now. I clench my fist and then drop it to my lap, groaning as I rub my painful erection.

It’s not even noon yet and here I am, tempted to whip my dick out and jack off at my desk.

And over what? A voice? The rational side of me, the one usually in control, is ready to shut this shit down.

I should fire Juniper and be done with it.

She’s already wasted my precious time by taking up my thoughts and invading my sleep. I need both to perform my job well.

It was my rational side that forced me out of bed this morning after a restless night of confusing, arousing dreams. I went through my routine, hitting up the gym for a particularly brutal workout, then making myself a healthy smoothie.

I decided to skip the scone this morning since I had about five thousand calories last night in that damn burger.

The worst part is how much I loved it. I literally licked my fingers after.

As soon as I stepped into the office, however, a different part of my brain took over.

It still hasn’t let up, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

Instead of checking the stocks, researching leads, and getting lost in the numbers, I pulled out the carefully folded note Juniper wrote and read it over and over.

I even… fuck. I even lifted it to my nose to try and get a whiff of her scent.

She broke me.

Work has always been enough, but right now, I can’t find it in me to give a single fuck about the numbers.

How can I focus on lines of data when Juniper is waltzing all over the city doing my bidding?

Her and her feisty little attitude, hand-scrawled notes, and sweet, indulgent voice fill up my mind, leaving no room for all the shit I should be doing to get ready for the quarterly meetings.

My phone pings with a text, and I see Juniper’s name pop up on the screen.

My palms turn sweaty and my heart stutters to a stop before working in triple time.

When did I become a nervous teenager asking his crush to the prom?

Not that I have a crush on Juniper. Or went to the prom, for that matter.

Too many expectations, too much drama, and more importantly, I didn’t want to go.

No one interested me then, and I haven’t had much interest in dating since.

Seeing my phone light up with a text from the enigmatic Juniper has some long forgotten part of me waking up.

I’m… excited, I think. I usually get a jolt of energy at the beginning of a big project or new investment opportunity.

What I’m feeling now, though, is a hundred times more powerful, and it’s all directed at one miss Juniper Leigh.

Lunch is outside your door. Don’t worry, I got a kale salad to make up for the burger. You have to admit, it was the best burger you ever had though, right?

I didn’t ask her for lunch, but I shouldn’t be surprised that she went out of her way to pick something up for me. And of course, she knew I devoured the burger and wasn’t happy about it. Juniper really is a great assistant. Maybe I should consider telling her that someday.

My fingers hover over my phone and a thin sheen of sweat dots my brow. What do I say back? I never thank people for performing their duties. That’s what their paycheck is for. But ignoring Juniper doesn’t sit right with me.

Before I can come up with a response, she texts me back.

I’ll take your silence as agreement. Even if you disagreed, I know you’d be lying.

A gruff sound rumbles out of my chest and my lips curl up at one end. Without thinking it all the way through, I type out a response. Confident, aren’t we, Ms. Leigh?

I can’t tear my eyes away from the three bubbles at the bottom of the screen.

The rush of endorphins and adrenaline is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

What is this? Am I flirting? No, that’s ridiculous.

I don’t know how to do that. Plus, I’m not the kind of man who would flirt with their assistant.

Then again, I’m not the kind of man to have a fucking wet dream about my assistant’s voice, either. Like I said, she broke me.

Juniper’s answering text interrupts my spiral. Your non-response is very suspicious, Mr. Sloan. I think you’re addicted to the burgers now. Is that it? I can replace your salad with another Double Royal.

Another gravelly sound falls from my lips, and this time I recognize it as a chuckle. I can’t believe I ate something called the Double Royal , I reply.

A soft, tinkling laughter drifts through my thick office door. Holy shit, is she standing right there? Could I open the door and finally lay my eyes on the woman who has haunted my thoughts for far longer than I care to admit?

That’s not a no , she texts back. Another text pops up immediately . If you liked that one, you HAVE to try the Mashed ‘Tater Burger.

Sounds like a gut bomb , I say back for some reason. I shouldn’t be encouraging her, but every time I see those goddamn bubbles on the screen, I get a shot of dopamine. It’s not the burger I’m craving right now, but I can’t think about that.

Oh it definitely is. I won’t ruin the surprise, but let’s just say it’s spud-tacular.

I bark out a laugh and then cover it with a cough. Spud-tacular? It’s cheesy and so damn adorable I don’t know what to do about it. Ignore her? Send a work-related text? Jump out the window so I don’t have to deal with the urge to swing open the door and taste her lips?

My phone rings and I nearly throw it across the room. Fuck, I’m tense. Little Juniper has rattled me, and I don’t know if I like it or not. I’m half expecting it to be her, but instead, Cutter’s name flashes across the screen.

Part of me is disappointed, I realize. I wanted to hear Juniper’s sassy voice as she gives me a hard time. But the more rational side is slowly taking over the reins. I don’t have time to get caught up in the spell my new assistant is trying to weave, whether she knows it or not.

So, it’s for the best that I talk to my oldest friend and not respond to Ms. Leigh. I have to get things back on track.

“Cutter,” I answer, forcing thoughts of Juniper away.

“Vincent,” he replies, his no-nonsense tone matching mine. While our lifestyles are completely different, we have common ground when it comes to how we communicate.

“Has it been six months already?” I ask, checking the date on my computer.

“You make it sound like we have scheduled calls. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me you have an allotted time slot for personal calls.”

“That’s not what I meant,” I say with a sigh.

“I know, I know. I’m giving you shit. Someone has to.”

I grunt, which makes my old friend bark out a laugh.

It’s about as rusty as mine, but truthfully, I’m glad to be talking to him.

Cutter hasn’t had an easy go of it the last few years after a tragic incident involving his father.

We were talking more regularly immediately afterward, but the weeks keep turning into months, as they do, and it’s probably been too long since I’ve checked in on Cutter.

He’s all alone out there on the top of his mountain.

Looking out of my corner office window looming above the city, I realize that’s another thing we have in common.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he answers all too quickly. I wait a beat, silently letting him know I don’t buy his bullshit. “Mostly,” he hedges.

I hum in acknowledgment but don’t say anything. Cutter needs space to tell me whatever is on his mind. I can’t do much to ease his suffering, but I can listen.

“The thing is,” he continues. “There’s this… this woman .” I’m not sure what I was expecting him to say, but that wasn’t it.

“Oh?” I nearly choke on the word. Is this yet another thing we have in common? Women who have taken our attention and energy without our permission?

“Yeah. Well, I mean… shit. It’s not like that . God knows I don’t deserve to have that kind of relationship.”

“Cutter, that’s not true.” I hate that my friend carries around so much guilt.

“Agree to disagree,” he grunts. “Anyway, this woman, she’s… she’s in my space.”

“Okay…” I draw the word out, not sure what he’s getting at.

“Like, literally. In my cabin. Can’t remember the last time someone else was here.

I don’t think I’ve had a visitor since before…

” Cutter trails off, not wanting to finish the thought.

I know what he’s referring to. He hasn’t had anyone in his space since before the incident.

“Anyway. She’s resting up now and I don’t know… I don’t know what to do.”

“Resting up?”

“Yeah, the little trespasser was wandering around my property last night in high-heels and some fancy business outfit one of your employees would wear. She just needed a place to stay for the night. Once she wakes up, I’ll send her back down the mountain.

” He’s talking to himself more than me, but I don’t mind.

If he needs to process stuff out loud, being here is the least I can do for my friend.

“Sounds like a good plan,” I say after a few moments of silence. “Everything okay?” I ask again. After years of knowing Cutter, I can tell something, or possibly someone , has rattled him.

He sighs heavily, and I can see him running a hand through his hair. “It’s just… she’s here, ya know?”

“Yes, you already said that. But she’ll be gone as soon as she wakes up, right? No big deal. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to brood and tend to the land in the afternoon.”

“Right. Yeah.” Cutter sounds lost in thought. “But I think maybe I… like her here?”

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline and I pull the phone away from my face to stare at it. Shit, we really do have the same conundrum going on. “I get it,” I tell him, bringing the phone back to my ear. I’m not sure if I meant to say the words out loud, but it’s too late to take them back now.

“Really?! I thought you were going to tell me to wake her up and kick her out.”

“Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No. Yes. I don’t know,” he admits, letting out another exasperated breath. “What’s going on with you? Did you have a stroke and suddenly believe in the power of love?”

“No,” I scoff. I don’t think I sound too believable, however. When Cutter snorts out a laugh, I know I must have come off as overly defensive. “I don’t believe in the power of love,” I reiterate. “I can sympathize with unexpected women bursting into your life and making you… feel things.”

“Now this is a story I need to hear.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, unconvincingly. “She’s my assistant and that’s that.”

“Right,” he confirms. “You have an assistant, and I have a trespasser. That’s all they are.” He’s talking to himself as much as me. “We don’t do relationships. We’re better alone.”

“Exactly. I’m glad we had this pep-talk.”

Cutter grunts, then I hear rustling in the background. “Shit, she’s awake,” he whispers in a panic.

“Breathe, buddy. She’s just a woman. And she’s about to be sent home, right?”

“Yeah. Totally. She’ll be gone before dinner.” He sounds less and less sure of his plan with each word.

“Good luck,” I say before he rushes out a goodbye and hangs up.

Poor guy. A month ago I would have scoffed and told him he was delusional for letting a woman get him all twisted up.

Now? Well, now I’m fucking tangled up in my own woman, and I don’t even know what she looks like.

So much for this call being a distraction from Juniper. God help me for whatever comes next.