The Personal Assistant Read Online Free PDF

a fill-in for Caleb.
    Just another girl to fill his time.
    Just his entertainment.
    Damn.
    Reality hits me hard…
     

Chapter 12

 
    "Some guys need taking down a peg or two. He'll be back; he loves this sweet ass," The perfect women all laugh hysterically. "My replacement over there is probably a hooker wearing Gucci. He probably just picked up her up off the street, Pretty Woman style."
    "How do you know it's a Gucci…?" asks the blonde-haired woman.
    "The same dress is hanging in my closet; it's this season, darling. Love those shoes though. Of course, they're all brand new. Probably the most expensive clothes she has ever worn. The poor whore even left the labels on."
    They laugh behind their hands now, noticing me looking and listening to them.
    Did Caleb so love this dress on his real date, he had to dress me like her?
    My throat swells as I stare at Caleb's back, who is oblivious to my humiliation while laughing with a man at the bar. This is too much.
    I'm a joke.
    Caleb doesn't really want me here.
    His date let him down and I'm an easy standin. I’m just here so he doesn’t look lonely. I am a standin. A piece of meat.
    No… what about what we did earlier?
    It meant something to him too, didn't it?
    Did I make something huge out of nothing?
    Another blonde arrives, takes a seat next to Caleb's ex, and gushes, "Demi, I overheard Caleb telling Paul who he's here with. You will never guess…"
    "Then don't make me," Demi insists.
    The bitch has attitude and I know how Caleb loves attitude.
    He loves mine.
    "Quit stalling, who is she?" she snaps.
    "She's his twenty-one year old housekeeper. Grew up together, by the sounds of it. Can you believe him? Bless, he dressed her up and brought her to an event like this. This is a big deal for someone like her."
    They all stare at me for a minute or so, examining the poor girl, before they turn away to continue talking about me as if I can't hear or am somehow impervious to what they're saying.
    "Aw, he's such a love, Demi," says the first blonde-haired woman. "Better hope you haven't lost him for good this time."
    "Lose him to whom? Ha, Cinderella over there?"
    Cinderella?!
    Is that what I am?
    They stare, knowing I'm listening, and their collective and cumulative laughter soon sounds like a roar.
    I look at Caleb and he is too busy laughing at the bar. Why can’t he be here and defend me?
    Oh, who am I kidding? He won’t defend me. I’m just a fill-in. Just another girl.
    It’s too much. I can’t stand this any longer.
    I have to get out of here.
    Two fistfuls of dress to raise the hem of my dress, I march away as fast as I can, wearing ridiculous five-inch heels.
    All with them squealing at my back and makeup running down my cheeks.
    The longest minute later, I re-enter the lion's den outside and the cameras flash in my face.
    "Leave me alone!" I scream, running to my right through the crowd of onlookers, down several blocks to Caleb's penthouse.
    On the way, I throw the Jimmy Choo's over a hedge.
    My fairy-tale was incredible while it lasted, but it didn't last long enough…
     

Chapter 13

     

 
    Unwilling to be home when Caleb returns with a triumphant Demi on his arm, I decide to pack a bag and stay over at Betty's for the night.
    She's a close friend, and I trust her to take me in, listen to me gripe, and not sell the story to the highest bidder.
    When you work for a billionaire, friends you can trust are paramount.
    I chose mine wisely.
    After the quick trip to Betty's, I tell her all about what happened between us.
    About how Caleb came home annoyed yesterday, then determined to make love to me the following evening.
    How I thought he'd finally seen me and liked what he saw.
    I thought he wanted to take me to the ball because he wanted to thank me, and maybe even because he enjoyed my company. How wrong I was.
    I tell her how I discovered the truth because of the humiliating conversation at my expense. I can’t help the tears running down my