The Billionaire's Assistant

Chapter 59

They rounded the corner and rises came into view, an unexpected throng of people outside in front of the building.

"Oh," muttered Kat, faltering.

She touched Jove's arm lightly to stop him.

"It's usually not this busy," she said, watching the 10 or so people milling about at the front door as if waiting in line. "I've never been when they didn't have seats, I've sat at the bar but,"

"It's ok," said Jove, reaching for her hand again.

She complied as if instinctively and allowed Jove to pull her towards the door, confused and almost concerned about the sudden increase in interest in cheap coffee and underdeveloped poetry. Gentrification? she wondered as the line came closer into view.

She recognized the majority of the people in it, even noticed her favorite barista, Vicky, clearly off duty in open slung overalls and a black fitted tank top paired with a black and white beanie with panda ears and enough eye makeup to require an extra twenty minutes of morning prep.

She raised a hand to wave to Vicky, wanting to wait till they were a bit closer before starting a conversation, when Jove pulled her straight towards the front door, bypassing the disorganized line entirely.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, shifting out of his grip. "The line is back here."

"It's not a line," Jove responded, reaching for the handle.

The suv that had kept their pace now pulled up to the curb, two buff men outfitted in suits and sunglasses stepping from the backseat. Jove pulled open the door and ushered Kat in before she realized what was happening, his hand at the small of her back as he guided her. She wanted to allow herself to enjoy it, to melt into him, his touch, but she felt almost as if there was a soundless cacophony occurring around her, as if a careful arrangement had been disturbed, bumped, and was shattering, shattering all around her.

Nothing exactly had taken place but she felt something had, couldn't place her finger on the wrongness of the situation, the air of displacement. Everything had happened so fast, but simultaneously, nothing had happened. So why did Kat feel so in the dark, feel as if she were missing a key component of the situation that would shed the light she was straining to make out? Why did every moment with Jove feel like that? Simple ones, ones that should be casual, felt almost as if she were on the outside of some joke she was too naive to understand, some hilarity she couldn't find the humor in. Like she was doing daily tasks with no basis for their purpose, imitating the actions well enough, but unsure why. The jarring nature of Jove's wealth, of Jove's life, of Jove himself, made her feel like she was constantly missing something, something obvious, something right in her face.

She blinked at the adjustment of light in the dim cafe to find it entirely empty, every booth and table devoid of customers but some yet to be cleared of their coffee cups and pastry remnants. Only one barista, a newer hire Kat had yet to get to know, was stationed at the front counter, and she smiled at them expectantly, waving as they entered.

"Hi," she called across the cafe. "What can I get you?"

"What is going on?" Kat asked firmly with more than a hint of exasperation as she turned to Jove, far more frustrated with herself for not insisting on an answer before they entered.

Jove smiled at the barista, called, "One sec," then looked down to return Kat's gaze.

Kat stared up at him with her anger mounting, hating herself for the needle prick of jealousy she felt when he shot the barista the smile she realized she was now feeling almost territorial over.

"What?" he asked, the deep blue of his eyes drawing her in and pushing her back rhythmically like the tide.

"What is going on," she asked in a near whisper, her voice tight. "What is happening, why are there people outside, why is it empty, what's going on?"

"I called," Jove answered casually, now looking up at the corkboard menu that hung on the back wall behind the front counter. "What do you normally get?"

"Stop!" Kat cried with enough emphasis to make him drop his eyes back to her with surprise.

"What?" he asked more seriously, real confusion settling into his furrowed brow.

"What do you mean, you called?" Kat demanded. "What does that mean?"

"I made a call, I called ahead to the restaurant so we could eat here."

"And they closed down the restaurant?"

"Yea, I mean, yea. I told my PA to do it, he calls and pays for them to clear it out so I can be in public but still just enjoy my meal alone, no security in the building."

Kat shook her head. The information, while not necessarily unsurprising, was too much to take in for the moment, so she focused on a more innocuous detail of Jove's sentence.

"You have another assistant?" she asked

Jove laughed. "What, are you jealous?" he asked with a coy lilt to his voice, practically daring her to look back up at him.

Kat kept her eyes locked on the floor, unwilling to get caught up in another revelry brought about by Jove's hypnotizing eye contact. He laughed again.

"Yea, my PA David. He's my life assistant, you're my work assistant."

"And you called him," Kat said slowly, still processing.

"Texted," Jove corrected.

"Texted him, and told him that you were coming here, and he called here, and he paid them to make everyone leave. And that's something that just happens all the time, you pay to make everyone leave a place."

"No," said Jove. He paused, thinking. "I mean, I guess yea. Technically. But I don't really," he gestured to the small space around them. "You know."

"What?" Kat asked defensively. "You don't go to places like this?"

Jove grabbed her arm, pulling her to the side so that they were no longer standing in direct view of the barista who was staring at them.

"Kat," he said quietly, bringing his still grinning face close to hers. "I don't. I'm sorry, but I genuinely don't. Most of the places I go to eat or shop or whatever, they appreciate me calling ahead. They like when they get to shut down for stuff like this, it helps their reputation and stuff. Plus, sometimes," he cut himself off, his grin growing.

"Sometimes what?" Kat hissed.

"Sometimes it causes crowds. When people recognize me."

Kat guffawed. "People don't recognize you."

Jove laughed, taken aback. "People do!" he defended. "It's happened."

"Yea, other rich people."

"Hey, I saw a post on Pinn that called me America's most eligible bachelor. So, poor people too," he joked.

"God, shut up, that is not funny," Kat said more loudly than she intended to.

Jove's smile faded. "Wait, what's wrong?" he asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean,"

"No," said Kat, cutting him off with a lifted palm.

"I come here all the time, in the morning before work, afternoon, whatever. I know," she said, pointing out of the decaled front picture window at the group of people still milling about, their numbers slightly decreased. "I know almost all those people. They come here to study or eat or get a coffee and have a nice place to sit for an hour or so when they drink it. The kind of people who come here don't give a shit about anything you give a shit about and they don't care about recognizing you, they're just trying to get through their day. And you're ruining it. for no reason."

Kat leaned away from him, feeling her heartbeat quicken. She hadn't been sure what she was going to say exactly, but she'd had no idea it would be that, such a direct reprimand, so aggressive. She had no idea how Jove would react to that, had never seen him angry, and realized with a start she could've put the plan in jeopardy, she may be fired.