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That was the good news.

The bad news was that she didn’t know a thing about him or his company or what a personal assistant or an administrative assistant was supposed to do. Why hadn’t she asked?

“Not smart, Emily,” she said briskly. “Really. Not terribly smart.”

She needed advice but where to get it?

Not from Caleb. He was a lawyer and lawyers saw things in black and white. From Jake, maybe. He ran El Sueño. He’d know all about what a PA was supposed to do. Or Travis. He ran his own financial empire…

Brilliant.

Ask one of her overly-protective big brothers about the job she’d agreed to take and he’d cut straight to the chase, find out that she was going away with a man she’d just met.

Forget that.

Nola had worked in offices but Nola was on a tour bus someplace between New York and Timbuktu. Lissa? No good. She’d never worked in an office. Jaimie? Yes! She’d worked at an accounting firm before she’d decided her future wasn’t in Excel but in real estate. And Jaimie was smart about life. About men.

Emily checked her watch. Jaimie was in D.C. That meant she was in the same time zone as New York. She grabbed her cell phone and hit a speed dial button.

Jaimie’s phone rang. And rang. And…

“Em?”

Emily let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re there.”

“I’m here. But I’m, um, I’m kind of busy.”

“All I need is five minutes.”

A pause. Then Jaimie sighed. “Give me a second.”

Jaimie must have put her hand over the phone. Emily could hear only bits and pieces. A man’s voice. Then Jaimie’s.

“… my sister. Of course it is. Why would I say…”

“Jaimie?”

More whispering. Then Jaimie was back.

“Sorry,” she said briskly.

“Everything OK?”

“Yes, fine. What’s up?”

Emily hesitated. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah. Life generally is.”

“Hey, I’m the one who studied philosophy, remember? But you’re right. Life is complicated. And this…”

This what? What was she going to say? That she’d accepted a job anyone sane would kill for—just as long as you left out a few small details, starting with the fact that she had no idea what the job called for and ending with that kiss?

“Em. Honey, I hate to rush you, but—”

“Fine. Right. Of course. I just thought, you know, we’d talk, have some coffee…”


Tags: Sandra Marton The Wilde Sisters Erotic