He stood rod straight in the doorway with both arms folded on his chest looking like a statue of some Greek god found in the museum.
Subconsciously I rose to my feet.
"Ms. Williams." He called, his voice cooler than a cucumber.
"Yes, Sir."
"Tell me." He ordered.
"I'm not compelled to tell you anything about my personal life," I murmured. I suddenly realized that I was looking down at my feet like I was scared of meeting his eyes. I immediately looked up at him to prove that I wasn't scared of him. "I don't remember signing up for that or am I the one not understanding what the job of a personal assistant entails?."
"Your job also doesn't entail you drinking during working hours or throwing flirty smiles at Billionaires but you did it anyway. Tell me, Now!."
"No!." I blurted befo
