Adrian Assistant by jewel crotan (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📕

as I thrust the laptop into Amy’s lap.



My best friend, who was sitting on the sofa crossed-legged, was just as dumbstruck as I was the first time I learned about the generous amount of money Adrian had given me for the event on Saturday.



“Let me get this straight,” she stated, setting the laptop aside as she wriggled into a more comfortable position, “He gave you $2,000 to buy a dress that you’re only going to wear on that one night because he doesn’t want you repeating any outfits, then decided to add another $1,000 so you can buy shoes to match? And he paid for your $140 burger? Why are you not as freaked out as I am about this? Compared to him, I’m like – like – like plankton to a whale!” She finished her statement with flailing arms, then sagged shoulders and a pout.



I raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you calling him fat?”



Amy’s blue orbs widened even further as she grabbed the laptop and rapidly typed something in. After a few seconds, she thrust the laptop in my face. “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M CALLING THIS WALKING SEX SYMBOL FAT?!” she screeched as my eyes landed on a shirtless photo of my Boss on the cover of GQ Magazine. My eyes widened and I closed the tab and grimaced.



“Don’t show me photos of him shirtless,” I grumbled.



Amy smirked as she snatched the laptop back from me. “Oooo! Is someone developing a cruuuuuuush?” she teased, before ducking her head and laughing as she narrowly missed the pillow I threw in her direction.



I glared. “No. I just know how he uses his appeal – that’s all.” I shuddered as I mentally counted how many girls walked into his office this morning. “Honestly Ames, they come parading in like he’s the stem to their flower!” I exclaimed with wide eyes.



Amy gave me a blank look before bursting into a full fit of laughter, once again putting the laptop aside to smack her thigh multiple times and rock backwards and forwards. I frowned. “What? What happened?” I asked in confusion, frowning at her.



“’Stem to their flower’! Em! He does actually have a stem.” She pointed down to her crotch area and winked, “And us lovely women like to refer to our goods as flowers.” She pointed to her crotch area again.



I frowned. “I’ve never heard of that reference before. You need to meet a guy, like right away.” I reached for the laptop and placed it on her lap once again. “Now help me!” I demanded.



She laughed, waving me off. “Relax, I’ve got this. Go make us both a cup of hot chocolate.”



“Sure, marshmallows this time or are you ‘watching your weight’ again?” I laughed, remembering the last time Amy had tried to eat healthy – it didn’t last long – she broke as soon as she saw a chocolate bar in my fridge.



“HA-HA.” Amy glared, trying to fight a smile. “Stuff so much in that I won’t even be able to drink the hot chocolate! And it’s black and white themed, right? And he said he wanted the dress to be brand-named? God, he sure is picky for a man. That doesn’t matter though – he’s still as hot as hell.” Amy laughed, winking in my direction.



I rolled my eyes and ignored her as I lazily strolled into my kitchen and took the ingredients out to make my famous hot chocolate. As I was mixing the milk, I heard Amy gasp from the other room. “EMILY! IF YOU HAVE ENOUGH MONEY LEFT OVER, CAN I PLEASE BUY A DRESS TOO?”



I laughed before answering. “Of course you can, Ames!” I called out. “It’ll be like a personal thank you gift from Adrian himself.” I tipped the mini marshmallows into Amy’s mug before starting on mine.



Amy didn’t reply, and I took it as a sign of satisfaction before my best friend’s body came stumbling into the kitchen with widened eyes. “Did you just call him Adrian? As in you’re-on-a-first-name-basis-with-the-hottest-person-living-Adrian? How did you manage to leave that part out when you were telling me everything that happened?!” She slapped my arm as punishment for this apparent transgression.



“Hey!” I squeaked, rubbing the spot as she frowned at me and took her mug. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know saying his first name would be such a big deal. Plus, you kept referring to him as ‘sexy pants’!” I argued, continuing to mix my chocolate into the milk.“Um, Hello? Breathing is a big deal! So obviously his name is too! I don’t know what to do with you anymore.” She muttered other things to herself that I couldn’t understand, as she exited the kitchen while plopping marshmallows into her mouth. 



“Um, Hello? Breathing is a big deal! So obviously his name is too! I don’t know what to do with you anymore.” She muttered other things to herself that I couldn’t understand, as she exited the kitchen while plopping marshmallows into her mouth


 I raised an eyebrow and shook my head at her uniqueness as I put a spoonful of marshmallows into my own hot chocolate and following her out. Amy and I had been best friends since Junior year, when I came to high school as a transfer student from Vermont. We clicked instantly, obsessing over Harry Potter like our lives were dependent on it. We had both made it to NYU after graduation – where we started our degrees in business and teaching – and stayed attached at the hip the entire time.



I smiled at her ‘concentration face’ as she sipped her hot chocolate and scrolled through the dresses revealed on the bright screen thoughtfully. “I think I’m going to go for Chanel or Hervé Léger,” she mumbled to herself before swiftly typing it into the search engine. “That’s always the safest option to begin a successful career in.”



After what felt like hours (to me), Amy let out a startling yelp. “This is it! I don’t care what you and your uptight morals or your sexy boss say; you’re wearing this dress Saturday night.” Amy gave me a look I was all too familiar with – her eyebrow was slightly raised and her lips were set in a thin line – that’s when I knew that there was no room for arguments.



“Show me.”



Amy passed over the laptop as she took another sip of her hot chocolate and observed my expression – no doubt waiting to see my reaction. I studied the dress – it was a plain black bandage dress that had a V shaped neckline and enough material to cover my shoulders.



“You can wear it with the peep-toe Louboutin’s we bought you last year,” she explained, taking another sip of her drink. “And we can put your hair up in a high bun or in a nice side hairstyle.”



I looked at the dress again in doubt. It looked awfully fitting to the body…



“Don’t you dare tell me it looks too tight, Emily Hannah Johnson, or so help me I will email an image to your boss pretending to be you and asking for his approval of the dress. You have the perfect body shape for it!” Amy gestured at my chest area like that was enough to prove her point.



“Ames…”



“You’re not finishing that sentence!” she snapped, snatching the laptop from me and doing something with a stern expression on her face.



“What are you do-”



“WHOOPS,” Amy grinned. “I accidentally pressed buy!” She pretended to gasp. “Oh no! What will you do now?!” She asked in a mock- dramatic tone. My eyes widened in shock before I glared at her and put my hot chocolate down.



“Amy! Why would you do that?! What if he doesn’t deem it worthy enough for the event? That’s – how much was it?” I asked curiously, cutting myself off.



“$1,345.” Amy answered, looking both smug and amused.



“Oh. That’s $1,345 gone! Wait, what? $1,345?! And you bought it? Are you crazy?” I screeched, my eyes growing wider than before.



“Emily, chill! I did my research while you were making our hot chocolates; his other assistants used to wear much tighter dresses then what this will be on you. They were much shorter and much more revealing too.” Amy frowned, recalling the images she had seen.



“In case you missed a little physical difference between them and me – they’re tall, slim, runway models and I’m a short, curvy geek!” I wailed, giving up and slumping on the couch in defeat.



Amy rolled her eyes. “Shut up. That’s all the more reason for you to wear the dress. Your hourglass figure will make that dress look a million dollars more than its actual pricing. You’re also going to wear red lipstick-”



“The theme is black and-”



“To match the bottom of your Louboutin’s. I don’t care if the colour scheme was fucking purple. You wear what I tell you to wear.” Amy glared, before gulping the rest of her hot chocolate down.



“This is why I don’t ask you for help in this department,” I mumbled, bringing my own cup to my lips and taking another sip.



“What was that?” she asked, raising both eyebrows at me.



I grinned. “I said… I love having you around my apartment?” I tried, before giggling and giving away my lie.



Amy laughed and launched a pillow at me that I caught clumsily, grinning again before using it as a shield. “I’m leaving now. It’s getting late and I don’t want you to look tired in front of Mr. Sexy tomorrow.” She winked.



“Do you just want to stay over? It’s way too late to go home now.” I frowned in worry as I watched her get off the couch and grab her hand bag. 

 

“Nah. A toughie like me? I’ll be fine.” She grinned, pulling me in for a quick hug.



My frown deepened. “Are you sure?”



“Yes! Now let me leave, woman! Jeez, you have serious attachment issues.” Amy’s joke made me roll my eyes.



“Just make sure you text me as soon as you enter your house, okay?” I gave her a stern look as she opened the door to my apartment.



“Okay, mother.” She waved before shutting the door behind her, and I faintly heard her footsteps echo throughout the stairwell of my apartment building.



I sighed as I picked up the pillows and placed them back into their original positions on the couch before collecting our used mugs. I put them in the kitchen sink and washed them. As I re-entered the living room, my phone buzzed. Frowning curiously, I unlocked it to find a text message. Amy? I thought to myself as I picked up the laptop and walked to my bedroom.

chapter 5

 
I clicked the green box to find a message from Adrian Kingston:



What are you doing?



My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I placed my laptop on my desk and took off my sweatpants. It was past midnight; surely he wouldn’t be calling me in to go to work now, would he? I decided to reply after I took off my bra and got into bed.



Just getting ready for bed. Why?



I pressed the send button and got