“Um,” she said. “I did kind of want to know what the salary was. We never really got around to talking about that in our not-interview while you were in your PJs. I know you’re supposed to pretend the salary doesn’t matter when you interview for jobs, but I mean, we all know it matters, right?” She was talking fast and clearly nervous, but that didn’t stop her from plowing on and vomiting more words. “Like… Yeah, hi! I’m here to apply for this job because my lifelong dream has always been to organize calendars and take calls. Money? What? I didn’t even realize this job paid anything. I’m only here because it’s my passion!” She was smiling, but her smile faded and she cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s what I think some interviewers expect to hear.”
“So you’re saying you are only here for the money, Miss Thorn?” I asked.
Lola’s ears went red. I pressed down a little spike of amusement. The woman’s ears even blushed? “Sorry. I talk a lot when I’m nervous. Or excited. And sometimes I talk a lot when I’m scared.”
“You mean you just talk a lot?” Max asked.
Lola smiled and shrugged. “Not when I’m sleepy. Well, I do talk in my sleep sometimes.”
I let out a sigh as the last of my patience drained from me. “What salary would you deem acceptable for the position, Miss Thorn? Money is no issue.”
Her eyes went wide. “You want me to… just tell you how much money I want?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know? I used to make sixty-five thousand a year in my last job, but that–”
“Done. Sixty-five thousand per year. And for every month you last with my niece, I’ll give you a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus.”
Lola didn’t move. She looked like a robot whose machinery had suddenly lost power. Then her eyebrows raised, and she leaned forward. Apparently there were some circumstances that even rendered Lola Thorn speechless. “That’s… A lot of money.”
“Do you accept?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar. You know how it is. Make a few calls, pull a few favors–” She cut herself off with a sudden laugh as she rushed around the desk and almost knocked me from my chair with a hug. “Of course I accept. Yes!”
I awkwardly patted her back while I tried not to notice that her hair smelled like lavender and erotic dreams. I also tried to divert my attention from the warmth of her skin against mine or the gentle pressure of her breasts against my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around me.
Max cleared her throat. “Might want to step back, unless you want to get him all hot and bothered. I think it has been a long time since Uncle Stones was with a woman.”
Lola jumped back suddenly, smiling while practically gasping for breath. “Sorry. I’m a little bit of a hugger. It won’t happen again. Sir.” She added that last bit after a delay. “Well, it won’t happen unless you do something really nice again. If you are nice to me, I can’t promise I won’t hug you.”
“I’ll do my best to avoid being nice,” I said flatly.
Max snorted. “That’ll be the challenge of the century for him.”
“Enough,” I snapped. I felt frustration threatening to boil over. I didn’t like the way I felt around Lola. It felt complicated. It felt fucking confusing. “Both of you go up to the penthouse and get to know each other. You’ll start tutoring Max tomorrow. I’ll go over the basics of pretending to be my executive assistant first thing in the morning with you. I want you in my office at 5:30 A.M. And if you’re not fifteen minutes early, you’re late.”
“So… 5:15 A.M.?” Lola asked slowly.
“5:30 A.M. But be early.”
“Right, okay. 5:15 A.M. it is.”
I let out a controlled breath. “Both of you. Out.”
Max blew another lazy bubble and pushed off the wall. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”
“Actually, he kinda did,” Lola whispered.
I just caught Max’s eye roll before they headed out of sight and toward the elevator.
Once I was alone, I sunk into my chair and frowned at nothing in particular. The only thing I hated more than making a mistake was admitting I’d made one. So after a few seconds of careful deliberation, I decided I absolutely hadn’t made a mistake by hiring Lola Thorn.
7
LOLA
Max tapped the button for the 60th floor. The doors swished closed.
“So,” I said, hoping to show her I was actually one of the cool adults. I was definitely cool. “Are you into TikTok?” That was what the kids were into, wasn’t it?
Max dragged her eyes to me like they weighed a thousand pounds, rolled her gum around in her mouth, and then looked back toward the doors with a shake of her head. “Uncle Stones isn’t around, lady. You can drop the act.”