His Assistant - Alexa Land Page 0,15
as he grinned at me. “Maybe our showers would go quicker if we took them together.”
When he started to lean in for a kiss, I stopped him with a palm on his forehead and exclaimed, “Oh, come on!”
“Why not? Shower sex is fun, and I’ll be quick, I promise.”
I rolled my eyes. “Wow, tempting. But in case it wasn’t clear to you, last night was a one-time thing. Now please go shower and get dressed before I have a full-blown anxiety melt-down.”
“Granted, a shower quickie probably doesn’t sound that tempting. But remember what you said last night? What happens in New York stays in New York. And guess what, Phee, we’re still in the Big Apple! I’m going to go take my shower, because you really look like you might have a stroke if I don’t, but I one hundred percent refuse to sign off on that whole ‘one-time thing’ notion.” As he left the room, he called over his shoulder, “This conversation is to be continued!”
A sound of pure frustration slipped from me. It was somewhere between a whine and a growl. This wasn’t the time to straighten Harper out, though, and I turned and ran to the shower.
After I did the whole lather-and-rinse thing in record time, I slapped on some deodorant while trying to pull on my briefs. This resulted in tripping and almost knocking myself out on the toilet. Next, I started to run a comb through my hair, then forgot about it as I threw on some jeans and a gray button-down shirt.
After I grabbed everything else I’d need that day, I ran into the living room. Big surprise, Harper wasn’t there yet. I went over to his bedroom door and listened to make sure I heard the shower running, which it was. Then I went over to the couch and dumped the armload of things I was carrying.
By the time he joined me several minutes later, I’d finished getting dressed, messaged the driver again, and called room service with a desperate plea for food and coffee ASAP. I ran into his room and grabbed his suit, then quickly packed a garment bag as he asked, “Why’d you unpack all of that in the first place?”
“To keep it from wrinkling.”
“The show’s wardrobe assistant is going to steam out the wrinkles anyway.”
“I also wanted to make sure we had everything.”
“How are things going to disappear from a zipped bag?”
I blurted, “You know I’m about two seconds from snapping, right? Now is not the time to argue with me, Harper!”
“Who’s arguing? I’m just asking questions.”
Once I finally got everything packed up, I rushed back to the living room with the outfit, grabbed my messenger bag, and raced out of the suite. Harper sauntered after me. When we reached the lobby, a manager from guest services was waiting for us with two lattes and the boxed breakfast I’d ordered. I thanked him profusely before herding Harper out the door.
He had a lot more pep in his step now that coffee had been acquired. We settled into the backseat of the black town car, and after tossing back half the latte, Harper turned to look at me and smiled. Then he reached up and pulled a comb from my damp, shaggy hair. I swore under my breath, took it from him, and finished running it through my tangles as he asked, “How late are we?”
“A solid twenty minutes,” I said. “At least the studio’s not far, but driving through Manhattan is never quick.”
“That’s it? I figured we were a couple of hours late, judging by how much it wound you up.”
“No, that would have been disastrous. Also, I really have to apologize. It was my job to get you to the studio on time, and I failed to set an alarm.”
He grinned flirtatiously and said, “It’s my fault, because I dick-stracted you.”
“Oh my God. You did not just say dick-stracted.”
“I did.”
“Never say that again. Seriously. Never.”
He dragged it out and sharpened each syllable. “Dick…stracted.”
“Why must you torture me?”
He looked amused. “I can’t help myself. It’s just so easy to ruffle your feathers, and you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”
“Instead of annoying me, eat some breakfast.” I gestured at the white box on the seat.
“I have a hangover headache, which automatically vetoes the food idea.”
I muttered some random complaints under my breath, then sent a message to my contact on Tommy Allen’s staff to let her know we were on our way. When she replied and told me two other guests