Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (7 page)

“You’re already checked in,” she explained, punching the ‘up’ button. “Jacob had your clothes and a few other things sent over.”

We zipped up to the third floor and I followed my guide down the pristine hall. Allegra parked my suitcase in front of a door near the end, pulled out a slender card and handed it to me.

“Your key.” She gave me a quick smile and moved to go. “You probably want to unwind, take a nap, yes?”

“Nap?” I said, shaking my head furiously. “I’m in Venice—I can nap back home!”

“We will get along famously.” She chuckled, approving of my excitement. “What to do first...” She scratched her chin, mulling it over. “Maybe you get settled, change into something a bit more comfortable, then join me for an early dinner, drinks in the
ristorante
?”

“That sounds great!” I smiled after her, feeling a little guilty that I’d pouted at the thought of not having Jacob bring me to my hotel. I would have been on pins and needles with him. With Allegra, I felt like I could finally relax.

I pushed into the room, flipped the light switch and gasped. The room was gorgeous, filled with antique touches without feeling too stuffy. A four poster bed was the focal point, but it was the vanity near the door stole my heart. I gravitated to it, oohing and aahing over the workmanship. I ran my hand around the dips and curves of the wood, fingers tracing until I saw the small stack of items sitting neatly in the center.

A small white bag was on top, filled with exotic scarves and odds and ends like Chanel no 5 and other toiletries. Beneath it was a white box with the signature Apple logo on the front.

I frowned, lifting it up and using an ivory handled letter opener sitting on a tea table to break the tape. Packing peanuts spilled out, quickly followed by a sleek, white box with a picture of the latest iPad gleaming up at me.

“He got me an
iPad
?” I screeched, my voice echoing up to the vaulted ceiling then back down as I pulled it out of the case.

Before this job, I’d just settled on pinching pennies until I could find a used one on Craigslist.

I walked over to the bed, sinking into the awesomely soft duvet, already imagining how I’d capture the city with my new gadget when I caught sight of a slender white envelope on the bedside table.

I let out a bitter chuckle, coming down from cloud nine. What did Jacob want me to do now? Strip down and send him an XXX video with the tablet?

I ripped open the side of the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper. There were only two words, written in gentle cursive instead of angry slashes like the first.

Be patient.

My mind went a million miles a minute as I read it over and over. ‘Be patient’? Did that mean that he wanted to open up to me? That my confession on the plane hadn’t made things worse after all?

I brought the piece of paper to my lips and pressed a kiss on his words before putting it back on the bedside table. I folded my arms behind my head and looked up at the ceiling, letting myself believe that wherever Jacob was, he was thinking about me too.

****

I
donned one of the few casual outfits hanging in my closet: a sheer black blouse, crimson colored skinny jeans and slipped my black flats on before I exited the room. My cell beeped to life at my side and I read the text. It was Allegra, letting me know that she grabbed a table for the two of us in the hotel restaurant.

To be honest, I was looking forward to learning more about Jacob as much as putting some food in my belly, though as soon as I stepped on the first floor and got a whiff of freshly baked bread and basil, the playing field was even.

"
Buona sera
,” the host standing at the front of the restaurant said brightly. “
Tavolo per uno
?”

When I let out a flustered laugh, wishing I'd been more concerned with Rosetta Stone than trying to figure out what was going out in Jacob's head, he repeated it in English with a sympathetic smile.

"Good evening. A table for one?"

I shook my head, peering over his shoulder. I scanned the lively crowd, stopping when I saw Allegra's bowed head. "I'm meeting a friend."

I maneuvered in and out of the tables, my curiosity peaking as I heard her tearing into someone on the phone.

"
Non essere ridicolo
. Anyone can see you care about this girl. Why do you fight it? You confuse her and you confuse me-"

My heart stalled in my chest. Was she talking to Jacob about me? "A-Allegra?"

She smiled up at me, gesturing at the seat in front of her.

"We will discuss this in the morning. Unless you will join us tonight?" She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Understood.
Ciao
."

She snapped her cell phone closed and gave me the once over, clucking her tongue with approval. "Leila, you look lovely."

"Thanks," I grinned, relaxing slightly. "You do too." She traded her outfit from earlier with a sleeveless flowered dress that softened her muscled exterior.

She picked up a bottle of red wine. "Do you drink?"

"Absolutely!" I said, probably a little too enthusiastically.

She let out a musical laugh that made her eyes twinkle then poured the ruby red liquid in my empty wine glass. "All a bit overwhelming, huh?"

I brought the glass to my nose and inhaled deep, breathing in the vibrant body of it before I took a hearty sip. It was like caramel going down and I savored it before I answered. "I'm still pinching myself every second."

"You haven't been working for Jacob very long?"

"Right," I said, taking another swallow. "Almost four days now."

She let out an impressed whistle. "You must be very good at your job."

I turned bright as a tomato and dropped my gaze, eyes locked on the starch white tablecloth. How could I tell her that my ‘personal’ interview with Jacob had probably got me the job?

She placed a wrinkled hand over mine and when I dredged my eyes up, I saw that she already knew. Of course she did...I was far from Jacob's first assistant.

I opened my mouth, the red of embarrassment turning to shame. "Let me explain-"

"That is unnecessary," she cut in. "This is
carriera
, your career, yes?"

I bit my lip and nodded.

"And I imagine you have plans that exceed being an assistant?"

"Definitely," I said without hesitation. "Not that all of this isn't great, but I want more." I let it all out, finally feeling like someone understood. "I want my own clients, my own agency....my own name over the door."

She gave me a long, pensive look then her face cracked into a grin. “
Difficile
? No. You got your foot in the door. You'll get no judgment for doing whatever you needed to do to meet your goals."

I reached for the bread basket, my stomach making a gurgle of hunger. "So since we're talking about doing whatever one needs to do to get ahead, do you mind if I pick your brain about Jacob?"

She traced the circular base of her wine glass and let out a chuckle. "I was wondering when you'd pick my brain." She ran a hand through her hair before sitting up tall, ready for the inquisition. "Ask away."

"The guy I know is incredibly driven, charismatic but..." I trailed off, trying to figure out the word.

"Guarded?" she finished for me.

"Exactly!" I said, clapping my hands together. "But with you, he's different. The laughing—heck, the smiling doesn’t seem like him at all. He was a complete polar opposite."

"
Sì
," she said after polishing off her wine. A long moment passed as she reached for the wine bottle, refilled her glass, then looked at the burgundy liquid like she was hypnotized. "The lights on Jacob are so bright that you only see the truth if you know where to look."

I fiddled with a curl, puzzled by what she was saying. "So he's not happy being in the public eye?"

It didn't make sense—the reality TV show, the high profile celebrity clients, the glitz and glam that I'd been bombarded with since I agreed to be his assistant. None of it seemed to match up with someone that didn't love the flashing lights and everything that comes along with them.

"What is happiness?" She didn't wait for an answer. "You are too young to be familiar with his father's work. He was huge in the pictures back in the 70's. Well, huge in Europe, anyway. His father, Carlton, came from nothing, so he invested, saved every penny so Jacob could have more." She shrugged her shoulders. "Jacob grew up in wealth. He knows nothing else."

"So, poor little rich boy?" As soon as it came out I regretted it and Allegra's eyes darkened. "I didn't mean that as harsh as it came out."

"It's alright," she said, but I could tell from the way she gripped her glass that I'd just lost some major points. "The world has no sympathy for the lot of those with money. We forget that money can't buy happiness."

Not knowing what to say to that, I stuffed a corner of bread in my mouth and chewed it nice and slow. I was hard on him, but the truth was I had no idea what it would be like to have my success, failures, loves and catastrophes broadcast for public consumption. I figured it was something I should say out loud so she didn't think I was completely rude when the chatter around us reached a fever pitch. Shouts in Italian mixed with other words, but there were two that I, and most of the free world, were familiar with: Rachel Laraby.

The sound of my chair creaking back met a chorus of others as everyone's attention turned to the front and gawked at the statuesque woman at the hostess desk.

Rachel Laraby—America's sweetheart since she played a plucky high school dropout alongside George Clooney. From there it was a string of romantic comedies and a sprinkle of indie films to maintain her street credit among the critics.

But it wasn’t all red carpets and Oscars for Rachel. At twenty-six, she'd been in and out of rehab three, no, four times. Unlike most celebrities that never fully recovered in the public eye, after each stint, Rachel regained the hearts and minds of anyone that set their eyes on her.

It made sense. She was the perfect Hollywood star with impossibly perfect bone structure paired with bright green eyes and a smile photogenic enough to sell whatever it was tacked on to. Her ebony colored hair was always glossy with the right amount of body. Her curves made her relatable, but she was thin enough that she could wear the hell out of anything. Every woman wanted to be her and every man wanted to take her to bed.

And she was our client.

I glanced back at Allegra, the stars in my eyes wearing off and confusion setting in. "Was there a meeting tonight?" I looked down at my outfit. "I can't meet Rachel Laraby wearing this."

"There is no meeting," Allegra said darkly. "Only trouble."

"Trouble?” I asked, even more confused. “But I-"

"Allegra De Luca!" If the flashes of cameras and phones intensifying around us was no indication, there was no mistaking Rachel's signature Southern drawl. "If you don't stand up so I can hug your neck!"

I'd seen the real thing enough to know the smile Allegra slathered on as she rose to her feet was far from genuine.

"Rachel," she said, wary edging her voice. "I didn't think we'd be seeing you until tomorrow morning."

Rachel waved a manicured hand, dismissing that whole notion. "I just
had
to come and say hello to my favorite woman in Venice!" She spun in a circle and swiped a nearby chair, managing to squeeze the wicker thing between the two of us
and
completely ignore my existence. Allegra flashed me an apologetic smile and when Rachel lowered her lean frame into the seat, began the pleasantries.

"Rachel," she began. "This is-"

"Any friend of Al's is a friend of mine!" Rachel cast a phony smile at me before she flipped her hair and leaned in toward Allegra. "I wanted to ask you about Jacob's new assistant. He's been keeping it so hush hush, so she must be something special."

"Allow me to introduce Leila Montgomery," Allegra said with a smug glimmer in her eye. "Jacob's
lovely
new assistant."

Rachel turned her head so hard I was surprised she didn't get whiplash. She inspected me slowly and from the snort that fell from her lips, I came up wanting.

"You can't be serious." She jutted a finger in my face, literally inches from my nose. "
She's
the new assistant?"

I felt anger sparking all over my body, but I tried to breathe through it. Maybe she didn't mean it as jack ass-y as it came out.

"Yes," I said placidly. "I'm the new assistant. And, uh, your
finger
-"

"Is this some sort of joke?" She gave me a sly smile. "Am I being
Punk'd
?"

"Get your hand out of my face," I growled, nostrils flaring.

She finally dropped the pointer, but not her shock at someone like Jacob hiring someone like me. For
choosing
someone like me. I glanced at Allegra and she was clearly struggling to hold her tongue too.

"Well, maybe after the others he
finally
went with someone that can do their job." Rachel gave my hand a sympathetic pat. "Someone...bookish."

"Bookish?" I fired back. I'd had my fill of people judging me by my employer and job title, and celebrity or not, I wasn't gonna lay down and let her trash talk me. "I don't know what your problem is-"

"Leila," Allegra intervened, trying to diffuse the situation. "Maybe we should-"

"No," Rachel hissed, raising her nose so high I was surprised I couldn't see her brain. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me like I was something stuck on the bottom of her shoe. "I'm doing you a favor, sweetheart. This isn't a movie—this is real life. On what planet would a girl like you end up with someone like him?" She didn't give me a chance to reply, shoving backward from the table with a screech. "I've lost my appetite."

I balled my fists in my lap as murmurs of interest whipped all around us, then relaxed as Rachel stalked to the exit. I’d heard about Rachel’s diva-like behavior, but this was different.

She liked Jacob.

Allegra's voice was low and concerned. "Leila, don't you go listening to a thing that woman says."