His Personal Assistant

33. | Alcohol

"Mayaaaa!" I draw out, scrambling around my room. "What do I do? What do I do?!"

"If I knew this was how you'd react after getting in a relationship, I would've had you get with him a long time ago." I glare at my best friend, sitting leisurely on my bed with her legs crossed.

Even though I told Rhys not to go public, Maya is my best friend. I couldn't just keep it from her. Especially after what I made her go through.

"It'd be nice if you would actually help me!" I walk into my closet, going through my clothes.

"What are you so worried about? It's not like he cares. He's seen you in worse, you know." I hear her climb off my bed.

"Yes. But this is different. We're together now. And he said after the meeting, we could stay and have fun. What does he mean by fun?"

She snorts. "If you had just led with that, I would've been much more interested."

"Maya."

She sighs. "Move. Let the mastermind work."

I step away as she waves a hand, shooing me away. She skims through my closet before she grabs something and drapes it over her arm, then walks out to my dresser. She opens the second drawer, grabbing out my undergarments.

I narrow my eyes watching her. She walks to me, laying the clothes on the bed. "Change into this and..." She looks around the room. "Oh, and these." She holds my heels up.

"Those are my work heels."

"You have three other pairs. Suck it up." She scowls. I roll my eyes. "Alright, then. I'll be in the bathroom, waiting, so I can do your makeup."

"Wh— I can do my makeup."

She snorts. "Not with that dress."

I scoff. "Rude."

"You know you love me." She grins at me before walking into the bathroom, shutting the door. Sighing, I turn back to my bed.

She grabbed out my black lace set of undergarments and for my dress, she picked my black short, spaghetti-strap dress with three zippers on the side and the bottom lined with zipper teeth. An odd dress, but it's cute.

I huff before stripping of my clothes and changing. I put my heels on before I walk to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

She opens the door. "Finally."

I yelp as she all but drags me into the bathroom.

***

Oh, my god.

He's here. He's here!

Okay, I need to calm down.

But what if he doesn't like it? What if he hates it and finds it revolting and wants nothing to do with me? Oh, my god. Would he break up with me for wearing this?

"Naomi! I'm tired of playing this game with you!" Maya calls from downstairs.

"I'm coming! Just— Give me a minute." I grab my handbag, checking myself in the mirror. My hair is curled and my makeup is almost a natural look, something I would never be able to do myself.

Gotta thank Maya for that.

I walk out of my room, my heels clicking against the wooden flooring, and walk to the stairs. As I walk down, I pay attention to the stairs, but I can feel Rhys's eyes on me.

I step off the last step and move my hair out of my face as I meet Rhys's eyes, his wandering up and down my body.

I start to feel naked and insecure. "Is it too much? I-I can change if you'd like. I don't want to embarrass you at your meeting. I—"

"No, Naomi." He smiles softly at me. "You don't need to change. You look amazing."

"Really?"

"Yes. And no, I'm not just saying that to make you feel better." Damn it. He said what I was thinking.

Maya groans and my head snaps to her. "I hate being a third-wheel." She rolls her eyes. "Alright, you two. Off you go." She all but shoos us out the door.

"Wh— You're in my house!" I turn around to her on my porch.

"Bye!" She slams the door in my face. I spin to Rhys in disbelief.

"Come on. We don't want to be late." He holds out his hand, and I sigh, taking it. He leads me to his car, opening the door for me. I climb inside, sliding over, so he can climb in. "Club LUX." He tells the driver ahead of us.

As we drive, he takes my hand, intertwining our fingers together. I smile at him. We quickly arrive at the club, Rhys holding my hand as he guides me through the crowd. We walk up the black stairs, decorated with white specks and a red carpet, to the VIP section.

"Croyso." A bearded man stands up, holding his arms out.

"Hey, Simpson." Rhys chuckles, hugging the man. "Naomi, this is one of my trusted business partners."

"Hello." I wave.

"My, you are beautiful." My cheeks heat the compliment

"Thank you."

"This is my assistant." Simpson seems to have a silent conversation with Rhys before he nods. I narrow my eyes. What was that about?

"It's lovely to meet you, Naomi." He holds out his hand.

I shake it. "You as well."

"Shall we start?"

"Yes." Rhys responds. We all sit down, me on the end beside Rhys.

Music plays from downstairs, but it's quiet up here. Secluded. I watch over the balcony as people dance and drink their worries away, people making out and having sex in different corners.

A waitress walks over to our table. "Can I get you guys anything?" She holds a notebook.

"I'll take a vodka, on the rocks. And a bourbon for my friend. Rhys?" He turns to him. Friend? Is there another person coming here?

"I'll take a bourbon as well." She writes it down.

She looks at me. "And for you?"

"I'll just take a round of tequila shots. With lime, please." She nods.

"I'll be back with your order." She smiles at us before she walks away.

I turn to Mr. Simpson. "Is, uh, someone else joining us?"

"Yes." He looks over my shoulder at someone behind me. "Ah, Damian!" My heart seems to stop. "Bout time you showed up."

A man with dark hair and a slight stubble chuckles as he sits down beside Simpson, wrapping an arm around him. I exhale shakily.

Why would I think it'd be my dad? His name isn't rare, but it's not exactly common. I should expect to hear it at some point.

Thankfully, the waitress shows up with a tray of drinks. "Bourbon..." She mutters as she sets the glasses down. "Vodka... and tequila shots with lime." She sets the shot glasses down. "Anything else for you tonight?" Simpson shakes his head 'no' and thanks her.

She walks away as I start to take the shots, tossing my head back. I wince at the burn before I move onto the next. And the next. And the next. Until they're all gone.

"Can she hold her liquor?" I hear Damian ask.

"It's not the first time I've drank. Certainly won't be the last." My voice is thick from the burning in my throat.

"Don't drink yourself sick." Rhys says.

"I won't." I slide out of the booth. "I'll be downstairs." Without meaning to, I press a kiss to his cheek and hurry off down the stairs.