12. Has he officially gone insane?
1238 Palabras
Summer Cooper’s message vault to Dominic Pauls:
Dear Nic,
Today I met a guy. He stole a little kiss in Paris while we sipped on vanilla lattes at a café across from the Eiffel Tower. I liked him. I think I might be falling.
Sincerely, a hopeful Summer.
12. Has he officially gone insane?
Summer.
Laney is talking to me from the other side of the screen, but I can’t understand her. I mean, I know what she’s asking of me, but...
“There has to be someone else,” I say.
“No!” she shouts, then coughs so violently I fear she might lose a lung. “It has to be you.”
“Tell Archie,” I offer.
“No, he can’t.”
“Then ask Dakota.”
“They’d end up killing each other.”
“But I don’t know anything about being Dominic’s assistant! Why would you think I could replace you?! And in Dubai?! That’s insane!”
“You’re the only one who can stand him.”
“Laney…”
“I’m so sick...” she coughs again, shaking the phone wildly. “Please, Summer, treat it as my dying wish.”
“I can’t, I don’t even…”
“Oh, thank you so much! I’ll send everything by email!” She smiles. Suddenly, she doesn’t look sick at all. “Have a great trip!”
“Wait, Lane…”
She hangs up.
I stare down at the phone in my hands, trying to process what just happened.
This can’t be real.
I glance at the time on my nightstand—our flight leaves early in the morning. How am I supposed to prepare so quickly? I don’t even have the right clothes. I… Does Nic know?
Oh. My. God.
I try calling Laney back, but her phone’s off. She turned it off.
I climb out of bed, slip on my shoes, and head straight to Nic’s study, where he’s working. As soon as I stumble in through the door, he lifts his eyes from his paperwork and gives me that look—the one he uses to tell me to speak. A perfectly arched brow, full of impatience.
"What would you say if I told you I’ve been tricked into going to Dubai with you?"
Dominic’s eyes gleam, and I brace myself for the rejection that’ll get us both out of this mess—but instead, he sets the papers aside and folds his strong arms over the desk.
“Go on,” he says, inviting me to continue.
“Laney’s sick, really sick,” I hurry to explain, not wanting him to get mad at her. “And she thinks I’m the only one who can replace her, but clearly, she’s wrong, right? There has to be someone else. I don’t even…”
“It’s fine. Pack your bags.”
And just like that, he’s back to focusing on his papers.
Wait… what?
I look toward the door, half-expecting someone to burst in yelling, “Surprise! It’s a joke!” Because under no circumstances would Nic ever agree to this madness.
“Dominic, you can’t be okay with this.”
“Why not?” he asks casually, flipping to the next page of his documents.
“What do you mean, why not?” I move closer to him. “Are you listening to yourself? I don’t know how to be an assistant! I don’t even have the proper clothes! What am I supposed to show up in? We’re going to meet actual Arab sheikhs! The most decent thing in my closet is a pair of khaki cargo pants!”
He flips another page, still so calm that I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate reality.
“It’s fine. They’re not pretentious.”
They’re not… oh my God.
I run a hand through my hair, struggling to believe this is really happening.
“I can’t, Dominic.”
At last, he looks up at me, and there it is—the anger I expected from the start. I sigh in relief. Sanity has returned, and now he’ll admit this is all absurd.
“Why the hell can’t you come with me, Summer?”
What?
Is he not hearing me?
“I’m not an assistant!”
“Are you sure that’s all it is?”
“And the clothes!”
“That’s it?”
"Dominic!" I walk up to his desk, emphasizing each word with my finger as I say, "I. Can’t. Go."
"Yes. You. Can." he mimics me, punctuating each word with his own finger before going back to his documents like everything’s already settled.
This man…
"I already had plans!" I shout, and I know instantly those are the wrong words when his eyes narrow and he looks at me with a rage that radiates from every part of him.
Who the hell is this man?
“Go pack,” he says with a chilling calm.
“Dominic…”
“God help me, Summer, go pack. We leave early tomorrow.”
“And my plans?”
“Cancel them.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t say no to him, but you can say no to me?”
What?
“I don’t understand…”
Dominic sighs, then rises from his chair with that firm, commanding posture and walks past me.
Where is he going?
We haven’t even finished this argument!
I follow him in silence, completely confused. He looks so in control, so rational, so assured—meanwhile, I’m still trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he walks into my room.
He scans the area like he’s looking for something—until he finds it. Nic walks straight to my phone lying on the bed, picks it up, brings it to my face to unlock it with facial recognition, then heads toward one of the windows. He leans against the frame to look out at the city and brings my phone to his ear.
“Who are you calling?”
He doesn’t even look at me, and I’m too shocked—and curious—to stop him.
“Maggie?” he says, pure fake politeness in his voice. “This is Dominic Pauls. Summer won’t be joining you all in Lewes.”
“What?” I whisper to myself.
Has he officially lost his mind?
He nods at whatever Maggie’s saying, the city lights casting blue hues on his face and white silk shirt. With the sleeves rolled up past his elbows, the skin on his arms is fully exposed. And just like that, standing tall in all his glory—serious, confident, completely in control—he looks so damn attractive that I just stand there, frozen, listening to him cancel my plans.
"No, she can’t," he says, scratching the corner of his lip with his thumb. "No, not that either… no, she can’t do that either… no, impossible… never… she’s busy… yes, that too… yes, just the two of us… make sure he knows… thank you, Maggie. Good night."
He hangs up and walks over to me, holding out the phone in silence.
“What did you just do?”
"What you didn’t dare to," he says, shooting me a fierce look. "Now pack your bags."
And he walks out, closing the door behind him with a dull thud.
What the hell was that?
- Autor
