Page 154 of Sexting His Assistant

I ignore it.

“Take one of your girlfriends.”

His face changes at once. The shift is small but clear, like a door closing. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

I fold my arms. “You had an entire diary that says otherwise.”

“Burn it.”

I stare at him. “What?”

“The diary.”

“The diary that keeps your social life from becoming a public relations incident?”

“I don’t need it.”

“You absolutely need it. You don’t remember anyone’s preferences.”

“I remember yours.”

My mouth closes. That’s unfair. Also not the point.

“That diary has important notes,” I say.

“Then it’s served its purpose.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m ending a system I should have ended earlier.”

“You cannot decide that after one night.”

His brow rises slightly. “One night?”

My face heats. “Don’t start anything now.”

He holds out his hand. “Give it to me.”

“No.”

“Where is it?”

“My desk.”

“Get it.”

“This is absurd.”

“Yes.”

I should refuse. I know I should. The diary is mine, even if it’s about him. I made it because he made my job impossible, and because I was good enough to keep his chaos organized. Part of me wants to keep it out of spite.

Another part of me wants it gone.

I walk to my desk. Luka follows at a distance that looks professional only if nobody knows how he looks at me when he is trying not to touch me.

I unlock the drawer and take out the small black notebook.