The Billionaire's Bitch

Twenty-Seven

"So when did you learn how to throw a punch?"

I was surprised at the question.

We were in the car, headed home after what felt like a very long day. It was still strange to think of "Home" as the penthouse.

I had my elbow braced to the door with my chin on my fist as I gazed out the window at the darkening city outside. Clouds had closed in overhead, which usually signaled a storm was coming.

"Back in school, when I was just a kid, I was kind of a bully." I told him in a quiet voice, without really looking at him. "I was...I got into a lot of fights. Some I could win, some I couldn't. I've broken my fair share of noses, in my day. I've had my hand and collarbone broken. I guess you could say I was a dramatic child."

"Hmm. Divorced parents?"

"Dead Dad. Wretched step-dad." I shrugged like it didn't matter. "I thought you didn't want to know this stuff." I snapped.

We rode for a while in silence.

In fact, it wasn't until we were alone together in the elevator, and we were almost to the penthouse when he said, "I'm sorry."

I jolted a little, because it had been so long since he'd spoken. "For what?"

"For your deceased father."

"Oh."

"How did he die? May I ask?"

I glanced up at him. Adrian gazed back down at me, hands casually folded behind him. His eyes were surprisingly kind and patient.

I swallowed back a big, wet ball of feelings. It had been over a decade ago and it still felt like I'd lost my dad only yesterday. He had been my best friend.

It had been devastating, losing him.

"Cancer." I said softly. "Took his heart."

Adrian must've heard the thickness in my voice, but he said nothing as I turned away to hide my tears.

###

In the lobby, I only just remembered to hand him back his phone for the night.

"Thank you, Eve." He said, and he sounded tired as he took the phone and checked the home screen. "You can take the day off tomorrow. Go shopping with your sister or something. But I expect you at work at 6am sharp the following day, understood?"

I mock saluted him and he gave me a sharp expression. "Yes sir!" Then I went "at ease" again. "Will Saturday usually be my day off then?"

"No. You will have random days off, though you may request days off, and as many paid sick days as you need, provided that I see you truly are sick and not just shirking your duties." He gave me a small smile when he said this.

I arched my eyebrows at him. I couldn't help but smile back. "You won't send me to see a doctor?"

He instantly lost his smile. Perhaps he thought I was flirting with him.

I sighed. "Anyway, I'm sure it's all in the packet you gave me. I still haven't read all the fine print yet."

He rolled his eyes to say he wasn't remotely surprised to hear this. "If you require two days off a week, then I will allow this, but I prefer to work as much as possible and I need you for most of this tedious type stuff we've been doing. But tomorrow I must handle something that I cannot bring you along for. If you would like Sunday off, as well...?"