“I basically did whatever he needed.” She crosses her legs and relaxes her body, and I follow the movement before quickly averting my eyes. “I haven’t worked here very long. I graduated from Kroydon University last spring with a master’s in non-profit management and started here in June.” She runs her teeth over her bottom lip, then sighs. “To be honest, Max, this position isn’t my long-term goal. I had a deal with my father before he sold the team.”
I lean forward, intrigued. “What kind of deal?”
“Are you aware that the Revolution’s charitable foundation was closed a few years ago?” This grabs my attention because I never saw that mentioned in any of my research.
“No. I wasn’t aware. Do you know why?” I make a note to find out more and wait for her to continue.
“No.” She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap and holds her head higher. “Unfortunately, I don’t. I just know what I planned to do with it. If I worked for him for twelve months, my father was going to let me reopen the Revolution foundation and run it.” She tucks a lock of blonde hair nervously behind her ear, then smiles. “Any chance you’d be interested in a charitable division? I want to call it the ‘Start A Revolution Foundation.’ I’d like to focus on kids. Hungry kids. Kids with no homes. No families. Kids who can’t read. There are so many ways the kids in our own city need help, and I want to fill that void.”
The hopeful smile that graces her face could light up the entire arena.
“I’m not sure how much you know about me, Daphne, but the Kings and King Corp. both have charitable divisions.”
Her shoulders drop. “So you don’t need another one.”
“What I’m saying is I believe in giving back. My family always has. I’d like to get the foundation back up and running. But for now, I’ve got to focus on the team, and I’d like your help.”
“My help?” Gray eyes look up, seemingly shocked.
I stand and walk around my desk, closing the space between us, then lean back on it and cross my arms over my chest. “Yes, your help. Judging from the parade of people who’ve stopped by your desk this morning, it seems like a safe bet to assume you know most of the employees. At the very least, you know the team sitting on this floor. I need you to be my right hand through this transition. Help me make it as smooth as possible.”
“And in return...?” She scoots forward on her chair as if she’s trying to physically touch the answer she’s waiting for.
“In return, I’d like you to take any down time you have during the day to put together your proposal on how you’d like to start the foundation. I want a mission statement that’s in line with the history of the organization. I want to know what your focus will be and how you intend to raise the funds, as well as what type of startup capital will be required.” That smile reappears, spreading across her face and hits me square in the chest, frustrating the hell out of me.
I’m not this guy who fantasizes about his assistant. His very young, very beautiful, very mercurial assistant. “There’s no timetable on this. I’m not sure if or when I’ll give you the go-ahead. But these are the first steps. Walk me through how you’ll do it.”
She jumps to her feet and throws her arms around me.
Soft curves press against the hard lines of my body, and I hold my arms out to the side like an asshole who doesn’t know what to do. Because seriously, what the fuck are you supposed to do when your hot-as-sin assistant, who’s at least ten years younger than you, presses her full tits against your chest?
Lifting her up to fuck up against the wall sounds like fun in theory, but in actuality, it would probably get me sued.
“I’m so sorry, Max.” Daphne backs away, her cheeks red with embarrassment. “I... It’s just...” She looks down at the floor, pursing her lips. “Thank you. This means so much to me... I... I really appreciate it.”
That makes two of us.
I sit back down behind my desk, hiding the effect a happy Daphne has on me, and we go over my schedule for the remainder of the week.
When she’s standing and ready to leave the office, I stop her for one last thing. “Daphne. Could you please find me a realtor? I need to purchase a new home and would like to work with someone reputable and discreet. I don’t need it plastered on social media.”
She laughs. Actually laughs. “Max, I’m pretty sure I can do whatever you want if it gets me my foundation.” She practically skips out of my office, completely unaware of what she just said and the filthy fucking images she left in her wake.