“If you want to keep working for me,” he continued, his tone sharp, “try being honest. I don’t care if you hate me, as long as you do your job.”
He straightened and began walking past me toward his massive bathroom, leaving me standing there speechless.
“And for the record,” he added over his shoulder, “I don’t like you either.”
I stared after him, mouth agape.
What did he mean he didn’t like me? How dare he?
Everyone knew I was the most trusted personal assistant in his life. The Olivia Hayes, indispensable to the great Julian Grey.
And yet here he was, casually stating he didn’t like me at all. The audacity!
Still fuming, I turned to the task at hand: cleaning up after myself. I vacuumed the carpet where I’d slept no less than eight times. Then, I headed into his room to tidy up.
By the time Julian emerged from his absurdly luxurious bathroom, I had his room spotless. The windows gleamed, the table was perfectly polished, and the bed looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.
It didn’t matter if Julian Grey didn’t like me. What mattered was that he needed me.