“That’s not an answer,” he said in that steel-hard tone that matched his steely-blue eyes. The guy had that down pat. Although he pretended the Dominant was a separate side of him, I knew better than that. Trent Ramsey was all Dom, all the time.
I gave another shrug. “I don’t know. Shit. Maybe seven?” Granted, it was closer to twelve, but I was embarrassed to admit that.
He looked disturbed by my admission. And fine, I understood because it was strange that my apartment seemed to be the go-to place for the criminal masterminds. No one else in my complex was experiencing the same disruptions to their days as I was.
“But it’s not a big deal,” I lied. “I’ve lived there for three years, so when you think about it…”
I had no idea what to say to make it sound better. Truth was, I lived in an inexpensive complex that didn’t have the best security in the world because it was easier for me. Being that I spent the majority of my time with Trent, traveling back and forth between all his various residences and the many movie sets, my own place was neglected most of the time, anyway. As was my car. I didn’t feel the need to spend too much money on either.
“Where the fuck do you live, Troy? I thought your apartment was in a decent part of town.”
Holy shit. Trent was standing practically on top of me, staring down at my face. At six foot two, the man only had two inches on me, but hell, he made me feel about three feet tall half the time. He was larger than life in every way and … well, there was just something about him.
“It is,” I lied again. “It’s just … we’ve had a bit of a crime wave for a while now. I’m sure this’ll pass.” Yes, I was digging myself in deep.
“That’s unacceptable,” he finally said, turning away abruptly and heading back into his closet.
I had no idea what to say to that.
When he returned, he was carrying his shined-to-perfection shoes, and a maroon tie dangled loosely around his neck. Once more, he sat on the bench, pulled on his shoes, tied them, then stood and began buttoning his shirt before tucking it into his slacks.
While he finished dressing, I stared at my own shoes, slightly proud that I’d opted for the new loafers I’d bought online last week. For the past few months, I’d been making an effort to enhance my wardrobe. Considering how much time I spent with Trent, it was important for me to look the part of his well-paid assistant.
For whatever reason, the media had taken a liking to me. Ever since I’d come to work for Trent, it seemed they made an effort to catch the two of us together. I wasn’t sure what the fascination was, but I’d found my own picture on the cover of plenty of tabloid magazines over the years.
Speaking of tabloids…
“Boss, I’m not sure if you saw it, but you were on TMZ a few days ago.”
He peered up at me as he began buttoning his shirt. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
“You were with a woman,” I blurted. “They said her name was Clarissa Tinsley.”
This time his eyes widened as he slowly pivoted to look at me.
“I’m not trying to pry,” I assured him. “I simply wanted you to know. I’m not sure who she is but—”
“Where was the picture taken?”
“It was a video. And you were standing outside a restaurant.”
He looked worried, but he quickly masked his expression and turned toward the mirror.
“I want you to move into the house,” Trent said casually, situating his tie under his collar as he glanced into the mirror over the dresser. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a guest house on this property, or I’d give you a little privacy. Since it’s not an option, you’ll have to move in here.”
“You…I…What?” Shit. I hadn’t meant to yell, but this was an abrupt turn of events. One second, we’re talking about him and this mystery woman, the next he’s telling me he wants me to move in.
The man smirked as he knotted the tie with the precision of a man who was familiar with it. “Exactly what I said. You move into one of the rooms in the east wing. If you need to, put your stuff in storage until we can get you something more permanent. Consider it part of your compensation.”
“But… No, Trent. No. That’s… It’s a kind gesture, but seriously. I can’t. You already pay me nicely.” It was true. Trent Ramsey was ridiculously generous when it came to compensation. He paid me, as well as his horde of other employees, a more-than-substantial salary along with a multitude of benefits.
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
His gaze was locked on my face, and that same I dare you to argue with me look I’d seen so many times made it hard to breathe, much less speak.
