Page 155 of Sexting His Assistant

For a moment, I hold it against my chest.

“This took work,” I say.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You forgot these women. I had to remember them.”

His face tightens. “I should not have made you do that.”

The apology is simple.

I hand him the diary before I change my mind. He opens it immediately.

“Don’t read it.”

“I’m reading it.”

“Luka.”

His eyes move over the first page. “You wrote that Chiara becomes dangerous when bored.”

“She does.”

“And Viktoria should never be seated near mirrors.”

“She ruined an entire dinner.”

He turns another page.

I step closer. “Enough.”

He keeps reading, then stops.

I know which page he has found.

It is the page that stopped being about his dates and became about him.

His tea. His coffee. His bad moods. The meetings he refuses to eat before. The cherry jam he says he dislikes but always eats when someone places it near him. His left hand tapping twice when he is impatient. His hatred of lilies. His habit of watching exits.

His eyes lift to mine.

“That was for work,” I say.

“No.”

“It started that way.”

“That, I believe.”

My face warms. “Give it back.”

“No. Come with me.”

“Where?”

“My office.”

“That’s not subtle.”