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“No. It wasn’t that at all.”
“So you just weren’t gonna say anything about it?” he said finally looking me in the eyes.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What then?”
He had a point. What was I going to tell him? Should I tell him that I had just sold my soul for the life of everyone in here? It was the truth. But not even I had such a martyr complex.
No, I had had other options and I had made my choice. Now I had to live with it. But that didn’t mean I would let Dillon go. According to Armand, I didn’t even have to. Though, my proposal for him to be my boyfriend probably had to change.
“Would you consider working for me? I could use someone I trust in my businesses.”
He hesitated, his gaze locked on mine. Caught off guard, he looked confused.
“Remy, you know I’m still in college, right? I’ve got at least a year left before I graduate.”
“But, it’s about to be summer break, isn’t it? And when you graduate, you’re gonna need work experience. So, to that end, I would like to hire you as my…”
“…your secretary?” Dillon interjected.
I looked at him surprised by his modest assumption. I had come up with the idea on the fly so I didn’t actually know what I was going to propose. But it helped to know his expectations.
“No,” I retorted. “My assistant. You’ll help me on a daily basis and I’ll have access to you whenever I need you.”
“Sounds like a secretary to me,” Dillon persisted.
I shook my head, “It’s not.”
“Would I be sitting at a desk outside your office?”
The thought of being able to look up at any time and see him instantly made my cock hard. “Absolutely. That part is non-negotiable.”
“That’s a secretary,” he concluded still not hinting how he felt about the idea.
“Call it what you will. The only thing that matters to me is, do you accept?”
Chapter 5
Dillon
I sat in the chic Soho coffee shop, rubbing my sweating palms against my jeans, waiting for Hil. My heart raced, wondering what he’d say about me accepting Remy’s job offer. He’d been right about Remy not leaving the Mafia world behind. And now I was willingly entering it.
The coffee shop was a blend of modern and vintage, with exposed brick walls, sleek leather seating, and a warm, inviting atmosphere. It was a place we had frequented as kids. So many of our summer afternoons were spent here sipping coffee, imaging ourselves more grown up than we were with Hil’s bodyguard a booth away.
I saw the same memory in Hil’s eyes when he entered. Giving him a nervous smile when his gaze settled on me, he made his way over.
“I chose this place because I thought it’d bring back a few memories,” I told him as he sat down.
Hil looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings.
“If it weren’t for you, I would know nothing about New York,” he admitted. “We used to come here pretending to be adults. Now I’m living with my boyfriend and you’re a year away from graduating college. It’s weird.”
“Yeah. Weird,” I said with a chuckle, the nostalgia warming me despite my anxiety.
Taking a deep breath, I soaked in the last of our old dynamic and said, “Hil, Remy offered me a job.”
His expression remained unreadable. “You shouldn’t take it, Dillon,” he said firmly.
