The Billionaire's Assistant

Chapter 57

Jove was still staring at her, that unreadable expression ever more discernible, and Kat could take the brunt of his attention no more.

"Let's go get coffee," she said abruptly and a bit too loudly, standing and slamming the laptop shut in a series of jerky movements.

Jove lifted an eyebrow, then laughed.

"Like the coffee I just got you?"

Kat looked down, caught. She'd completely forgotten he'd had coffee brought in, hadn't even taken a single sip, but she waved the statement away with her hand, frowning.

"I don't like that coffee," she lied. "I want different coffee."

"I can send someone for coffee, where do you want it from?"

"No," said Kat quickly. "I'll get the coffee. I want to."

"What?" Asked Jove coyly. "You need some fresh air?"

Kat's flush renewed and she looked away quickly, feeling more caught than at the moment of her tacit confession.

"Yes," she finally said quietly, her voice inexplicably hoarse.

"Alright then, let's get you some fresh air."

He stood and headed for the elevator, turning to see her still standing frozen in the same spot.

"C'mon," he instructured, and Kat followed him silently, still trying to piece together exactly what had just happened.

They rode down in Jove's elevator together, Kat pressing her back against the small cylindrical room's walls in an effort to create as much space between them as possible, and stepped out into the garage, Kat avoiding his gaze like the plague.

"Which one?" he asked, but Kat was already striding towards the incline on foot, her back to him.

"I want to walk," she called over her shoulder without turning.

Jove's longer stride caught up to her quickly and they fell in step, slowly trodding up the winding concrete road that led to the garage's exit.

"You should've told me you wanted to walk," Jove said after a while, breaking the now comfortable silence.

"I didn't know I did till we got here," Kat responded lightly, not yet trusting herself to look at him. "Besides, I didn't know if you'd still wanna come."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know. Do billionaires walk?"

Jove laughed. "I mean, fair. I haven't in a while. Driving is more efficient, it makes more sense."

"Just because something is more efficient doesn't mean it makes more sense," Kat objected.

"That's exactly what it means," Jove retorted lightly. "It's basically the definition of efficiency, the best way to do something."

"No, the definition of efficiency is the fastest way to do something."

"Fastest and best."

"Fastest and best," Kat corrected, "for the completion of the task. Efficiency doesn't take into account other factors, human factors."

"Alright, I'll bite," said Jove goodnaturedly. "Give me an example."

"Easy," said Kat, mentally fumbling. "Ok," she started, solidifying her answer. "Ok. The most efficient way to eat is to eat the exact same thing everyday, right? You can buy your food in bulk, speed up and perfect the cooking process, and never spend any more time deciding what you're gonna have, it's the most efficient way to eat. But it's not the best way to eat. You'll get bored and you'll start hating the thing you make, you'll want something else, whatever. But efficiency doesn't care, efficiency is all about the completion of a task, not balance in your life."

"Well sure," Jove conceded, "but that example only works if you pick and choose the aspects of your life to apply efficiency to. If you decide to be efficient in everything, to live an efficient life, then you'll be balanced, you'd have no choice."

"Well, let's go with your example then," Kat argued. "You always drive everywhere instead of walking because you claim it's more efficient. But walking outside serves multiple purposes that your body needs it to. It's low impact movement, obviously you're getting vitamin D, but more important than that, you're a part of the world around you. You're participating in community, in the thick of it. You get to people watch and take in sights and sounds and it's important, it's part of being alive. But because a car is faster, you miss all that, and you call it efficiency." She shrugged. "It's not very efficient to me."

"That's a good point," acknowledged Jove. "A great point even. But that's not what I meant by efficiency."

"What did you mean?"

"I meant," he said as the garage's door came into view to reveal an idling, gleaming black escalade already on the other side of the guard booth. "They have to come anyway," he finished with a nod.

"Who's that?" asked Kat, attempting to strain and make out the driver's face through the car's heavy tint.

"Security," he informed her, grabbing her hand to pull her closer to the wall as they sidled past the car and onto the street. "They have to follow when I'm on foot, it's part of my insurance policy."

Kat laughed. "That sounds like a line from a movie. Like you're the mob boss calling your bodyguards your insurance policy."

Jove laughed as well. "I meant my literal insurance policy," he said, still laughing. "I'm insured for so much that 24/7 security is a stipulation of the coverage."

She turned to him for the first time since they'd entered the elevator.

"24/7? You're never alone?"

He shrugged. "My buildings all have security teams and so does the office, those are the only places I go."

"But if you just wanted to, like, walk to the park, you'd have to get them to come with you?"

"They keep their distance," Jove said, turning. "See?"

They were already about halfway up the block and the car was still idling in the garage, just within their sight.

"They're really good," Jove continued. "They try not to be overbearing, just keep me in their sights."

"Have you ever," Kat gulped, realizing what she was asking but forging ahead anyways. "Have you ever needed them?"

"Not really," he reported lightly. "A woman at a gallery opening for a friend of mine got a little handsy but that was more malbec than malice, she must've had 4 bottles."

Kat giggled, unfamiliar with the word malbec but using context to assume the woman must've been too drunk to fight her desire for Jove, a situation she felt unfortunately (and soberly) all too familiar with.