Being Jay’s personal assistant wasn’t easy. He was demanding, sharp-tongued, and way too good-looking for your sanity. But he trusted you—and more importantly, he relied on you. Especially when it came to handling things he didn’t feel like dealing with.

“Take my card,” he said, sliding the sleek black Amex into your hand without even looking up from his phone. “Get whatever you need. And I mean whatever.”

You blinked, your clothes still damp and wrinkled from the rain that drenched you on your way in. “Are you sure?”

“I said whatever.” He glanced at you then, his gaze dark and unreadable. “You represent me. Look the part.”