Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

Quinn lowered the tablet.

Park cleared his throat: "I want you to become my personal assistant."

’There, done and nobody died.’

Quinn said nothing and Park suddenly wished someone had died; he pushed on before silence could eat whatever remained of his dignity.

"Not because you aren’t good at what you’re doing now. Obviously. You’re probably frighteningly overqualified and do not have to suddenly become someone reminding me where my shoes are. And it wouldn’t just be that. My career is starting to become..." Park waved vaguely at the air. "A lot."

That was apparently the technical term now.

"NX has its own representative. Sloane handles the bigger career decisions. Tessa handles money. Evelyn handles everything designed to bankrupt me through punctuation. But I still need someone on my side not just handling the actual day-to-day thing, someone I can really trust and not just someone making sure I’m where Sloane thinks I am instead of wherever I wandered off to."

Quinn’s mouth moved slightly. "Wandered off?"

"Hypothetical speaking."

"Of course."

Park ignored that. "And you’re the only one I can trust enough, Quinn."

Quinn’s expression changed but only slightly.

Park rubbed the back of his neck: "The problem is I’d basically be asking you to leave your position here and work for me. Which feels somewhat arrogant now that I’m saying it aloud."

Quinn set the tablet on the console beside her: "You’re misunderstanding my current position."

Park frowned. "I do? How?"

"I was assigned to you, Young Master. Exclusively."

Park paused.

Quinn continued, almost patiently now. "The Chancellor assigned me as your twenty-four-hour principal protection officer. Unless I am unavailable, ordered elsewhere because of an emergency or temporarily relieved, you are already my primary responsibility."

Park blinked.

"Twenty-four hours?"

"Yes."

"You make that sound slightly obsessive when you say it out loud." He joked.

"I did not choose the wording."

"Still flattering."

Quinn ignored him with years of practice packed into a single look. "In practical terms, very little about my day would change I were to assume the new position you’re asking me to take. I already coordinate your transportation, movements, security, household access and outside appointments when necessary. I already be receiving schedule information from your team when security requires it, you’re after all a VIP. I already accompany you more often than anyone else on the detail."

Park slowly realized she was right. Quinn had effectively been orbiting his schedule ever since the reassignment.

"So I wouldn’t actually be dragging you away from your career."

"You would be changing it." That distinction mattered... Quinn leaned lightly against the console. "I would still maintain my security qualifications, and initially I would continue handling your protection as a VIP until you decide to build a separate detail around yourself as proffesianal actor and celebrity. Personal assistant would add administrative responsibility to what I already do: Your calendar, communications, travel coordination, documents, liaison with your manager, lawyer and NX where necessary."

"Wouldn’t that be too much?"

"Not immediately. You aren’t famous enough yet."

Park stared at her.

Quinn’s expression remained perfectly composed.

"That was cruel."

"It was accurate, Young Master."

"I have fifty-two thousand followers now if you must know."

"Congratulations."

"Fifty-two thousand people."

"You need assistance with the messages, Young Master?"

Park narrowed his eyes, this woman was becoming far too comfortable, she does need a good spanki—

Quinn finally laughed quietly. "The position would need to change later if your career becomes as large as you apparently expect it to. You may eventually need a full-time executive assistant and separate security personnel. But for now, the responsibilities overlap enough that it is practical."

That solved one problem but the larger one remained.

"What about the family?"

Quinn understood immediately. "That is what actually changes." Her tone became more serious. "At present, I am employed by the household. Yes, I am assigned to you, but my employment obligations still run through the household security structure. If there is a legitimate security matter requiring escalation, I report through that structure."

Park’s expression tightened slightly.

Quinn noticed: "If I become your personal employee, that changes. My professional duty would be to you. Your schedule, private meetings, relationships and ordinary personal affairs would not be information for the household simply because someone asked."

That was exactly what Park wanted. "Even if someone important asked?" He was meaning his father or step-mom.

Quinn looked directly at him. "Unless you authorized it, or there was an immediate safety or legal reason requiring disclosure, no."

Park smiled slowly, that felt considerably bigger than changing who reminded him about appointments.

He didn’t merely want an assistant, Park wanted another person whose first professional answer was Park, rather than the household surrounding him.

Quinn continued. "But I cannot simply resign from one position tonight and appear on your payroll tomorrow. My current employment agreement is through the household, and my assignment came directly from the Chancellor."

"So I have to ask her."

"Yes, for release or reassignment."

Park made a face.

Quinn’s mouth twitched. "Do not look like that."

"I dislike idea of needing permission to hire my own employee."

"You aren’t asking permission to hire me. You’re asking my current employer to release me from obligations I already agreed to."

That sounded annoyingly reasonable.

Park hated reasonable things when they interfered with his current ongoing rebellion in the family. "What happens if she agrees?"

"The cleanest short-term arrangement would be an exclusive secondment to you while your company is being established. I remain administratively inside the household system for payroll and existing security credentials, but my reporting line becomes you alone for ordinary duties."

"And later?"

"When Nathaniel Park Entertainment is operational, my employment can transfer directly to your company if you still want that."

"If?"

Quinn looked at him.

Park immediately corrected himself. "When."

A little color threatened the edges of her ears.

’Beautiful.’

"And once that happens," Park said, "you don’t work for the household at all?"

"Not professionally."

"No reporting my movements, my visitors or dating life?"

Quinn gave him a look.

Park smiled innocently.

"No."

"My tragically complicated relationships with beautiful women?"

"Especially no."

"Wonderful."

"Unless one of those beautiful women is attempting to murder you." She glared.

Park considered it. "Then perhaps send a memo."

Quinn shook her head, he watched her for another moment, and the nervousness he’d felt earlier returned in a different form.

There was still one question he hadn’t actually asked: "Do you want it?"

Quinn’s expression softened.

Park continued before he could retreat into jokes. "I mean actually want it. Forget whether it’s convenient. Forget that you’re already assigned to me. I don’t want you saying yes because somebody higher up put you around me and now it feels awkward to say no."

That silenced her for a moment, later Quinn answered simply: "Yes."

Park waited.

"I want the position."

Something warm and stupid settled in his chest... Park smiled. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Even knowing you’d have to deal with me every day?"

"I already deal with you every day."

"Good point."

"And frankly," Quinn added, picking her tablet back up, "the largest difference may be that I’ll finally be permitted to tell you where to be instead of merely following you after you’ve gone somewhere inconvenient."

Park looked scandalized.

"So this is a coup."

"You asked me."

"I was vulnerable."

He stared at her, his smile returned: "I want you, Quinn."

The words came out before Park considered how they sounded making Quinn and Park stop at once.

The corridor suddenly became fascinatingly quiet.

He could have corrected it and said for the job and rescued both of them.

Naturally, Park did not and watched a faint blush creep over Quinn’s face, he smiled, gentle enough not to completely ruin her.

"As my assistant," he added eventually.

Quinn looked away. "Ask the Chancellor tomorrow."

"Coward."

She began walking, Park fell into step beside her: "I wasn’t talking about anything else."

"I didn’t say you were."

"You were thinking bout it."

"No."

"Your ears disagree; you’ve been waiting for me to make a bigger move, haven’t you?"

Quinn walked faster... Park grinned and followed.

*

By the time he returned to his room, another hundred or so people had followed Nathaniel Park while he wasn’t looking:

His contracts were almost ready, Sloane had his career, Tessa had his money, Evelyn had his legal problems. And, assuming one final employment conversation didn’t turn into a political summit, Quinn would soon have everything else.

Park dropped onto his couch and stared at the ceiling.

Park was really beginning to build something around himself that hadn’t already existed before he arrived.

His people, choices, career.

He smiled.

His eyes moved toward the exact spot on the bed where Emmeline had been sitting earlier.

The smile became considerably less respectable for guy of his face.

What a pervert!

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