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I’ve never had an assistant like Katrina, and I mean that in all the best ways possible.
“Keep telling yourself that, Katrina.” “Kat!” she says like she does just about every day. “Everyone calls me Kat.” “And I call you Katrina,”
ADHD will do that to you: a constant cycle of excited hyperfixation and the sudden drop as soon as that hit of dopamine is gone.
“She was rambling on about an idea she had for the gala last year, how to add a fundraising aspect, and I looked up at her, and she was smiling. I realized she was joking, picking on me, and . . . I don’t know. Something snapped. I looked up at her and it was like something had shifted and I needed her to be mine. The world stopped spinning for a moment; everything felt hot and cold at the same time.”
“It fills a room. It’s magical. I could have the absolute worst day of my life, hear her laughing at her desk, and instantly feel better. If laughter is medicine, Katrina’s is my cure.”
“I got you stuck in this situation; you get whatever you need. Make it hurt, kitten.”
“Because I like you! I like you, Katrina, and that’s why I don’t want you getting hurt. You’re a good fucking person and a great fucking friend, and I like you. Am I so goddamned impersonal you can’t even see that?”
“But what you didn’t anticipate is me. I’m as loyal as they come, and I’m fucking insane. Theo might want to play this clean and keep things good, but me? I'm happy to play in the mud with you. So before you try anything, before you try and fuck with my fiancé and his legacy, just know that if you go low, I’ll tunnel to the core of the fucking earth.”
“I want you to be mine, Katrina,” he says, and my pulse stops. “But if I can’t have that, I want you to be you.”
“Now, you listen to me, Katrina. You’re a brat in the office, you’re a brat in meetings, you’re a brat anywhere else, but when my cock is inside of you, you play nice. You be my good little assistant, and you take it how I’m ready to give it to you.”
