“Cecilia, this is my assistant, Ava. I made her come to help you with your project.” Hugo turned to me, keeping Cecilia’s hand secured in his. “Ava, this is Cecilia Hannover, an old friend, and I have lent your services to her.”
Cecilia giggled. “Old friend? Hugo!”
He gave her a playful wink as she grabbed his arm and squeezed his bicep.
I had to stop myself from taking a step back. This one hurt, I couldn’t deny it. Cecilia Hannover—she was the old blue blood Hugo belonged with.
I nodded and bowed a little. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Hannover. Please let me know how I can be of assistance.”
Hugo motioned us to a closed room on the left. “Go to the library and let her know what you need and when you need it. Ava will do it. I’m going to see the chef to make sure everything is ready.”
Cecilia kissed his cheek, leaving a trace of her lipstick there. “You’re such a godsend, Hugo St-John.”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes before taking the direction of the closed door, hoping no one saw me.
“So, how can I help?'' I asked as soon as she walked into the room. I wanted to leave this place as soon as I could.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry for all this, it’s just—” She looked into her clutch and retrieved a USB drive. “I’m not a flake,” she said, holding it in her hand.
“I never said you were.”
“No but you’re his assistant and I'm making you do my work.”
I extended my hand, wanting to be done with it. “My job is to do what Mr. St-John wants me to do and if he wants me to do something for you, then it is part of my job.” I nudged my hand.
She put the USB in my hand. “You know for any other man I would have said no but Hugo and I used to date and—”
Nope!I raised my hand. “No offense, but Mr. St-John is my boss and I’d rather have no information about his personal life.”
“Oh.” She rested her hand on her chest. “Yes, of course.” She gave me a small smile and part of me was irritated by it because on top of being beautiful, she was nice and that was annoying.
“What can I do for you?”
“The various teams of one of my father’s charities collated all the information you have on this key. I just need…” She let out a little laugh. “Well, you just need to put all the information on a presentation for the Charity Board for final approval.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s a formality. I was already granted approval behind the scenes but—you know.”
I nodded, despite having no idea what that was like. I did, however, like the idea of spending my time on something charitable.
“Oh, and the color scheme of my presentation needs to be red, black and gold,” she added. “It’s sort of my brand.”
I detailed her again and with the black dress, red lips and nails, along with all the gold jewelry, she was right—this was on brand.
“What is the cause?” I asked, looking down at the USB in my hand, already thinking about the fastest way to get this done.
“It’s about getting second-hand designer clothes to deprived areas. Just because you’re poor, it doesn't mean you can't be stylish, you know?”
I chuckled and looked up to acknowledge that she was funny, but she looked dead serious.
“Oh, yeah, for sure.” I nodded, honestly at a loss for words.
“I call it ‘Fashion for the destitute.’”
They will hate it. “It’s original and not something anyone would think about.” I looked at my watch, not even really registering the time. “Well, I better get going. I’ll get that to you sometime tomorrow. Have a great time.”
“Oh, I will.”
Her tone caused my heart to squeeze in a painful way. I’d been a fool yet again thinking that Hugo would put any effort for me. I would certainly never make this mistake again.
I nodded mutedly and exited the room to find Hugo leaning carelessly against the wall leading to the elevator, his feet crossed at the ankles. He was the epitome of casual cool and I wanted to slap him.