Read Online Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) by Ava Claire - Free Book Online
Authors: Ava Claire
Tags: alpha male, alpha male romance, Billionaire, billionaire romance, BDSM Romance, BDSM Erotic Romance
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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
"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
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