My Life as Duke Starr's Assistant

My Life as Duke Starr's Assistant...[Part 12]

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" I asked Duke.

"Positive," he replied. I frowned. "What's the problem? Zac's a good guy," he said.

I was getting ready to go tour Rome with Zac for the day. I was still uncertain about going with him alone and kept begging Duke to come with us.

"I know he's a good guy. I just don't think it's smart for me to go with him alone," I pointed out.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Well for one thing, Zac's also an A-list, hot celebrity. Paparazzi are sure to recognize him. And they already know that I'm your new manager. And they're smart and they'll think something is going on," I explained.

"What's wrong about that?" he asked.

"There's nothing going on between us," I told him flatly. He blinked.

"Are you really that oblivious?" he asked me. Now I blinked at him, confused.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Zac's totally into you," he said. I snorted.

"Yeah, right," I said, shaking my head. "Good one."

"Have you seen the way he looks at you? He's totally crushing on you," he said.

"No, he's not. Shut up," I told him. "And besides, why would he like me?" I asked.

"Why not? It's not like your ugly," he said, smirking up at me. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You have a funny way of complimenting people," I said.

"I bet he thinks you're hilarious. And you're smart," he continued, ignoring me.

"I'm not about to date a celebrity," I said.

"Why? You're single, aren't you?" he asked me.

"That's not the point. I like my relationships to be private. I don't want them displayed all over the news and internet," I said.

"So you're going to give up the guy that could possibly be your soulmate just because you're afraid of the press?" he asked me.

"He's not my soulmate," I said, giving him a look.

"How would you know? You haven't even given him a chance," he pointed out.

"Duke! I don't like him like that! He's a friend! That's all!" I exclaimed. He widened his eyes, but I could still see a spark of mischief in them.

"All right! All right! Calm down!" he said, putting his hands up. I glared at him. He sighed dramatically. "Poor kid. Doesn't know what he's getting himself into," he sighed.

"Stop making me feel bad!" I cried.

"You're doing this all on your own," he said, looking at me matter of factly. I rolled my eyes at him.

"Are you going to come with us and make this less awkward for me? Or are you going to be a jerk and stay here?" I asked.

"I think I'll stick with the second one," he said, leaning back against the headboard, putting his hands behind his head. He smirked at me as I glared daggers at him.

"I do so much for you and you can't do this one thing for me," I sighed, resorting to guilt-tripping him into coming with us.

"You do so much for me because it's your job. You wouldn't do any of that stuff if you didn't have to," he pointed out. I pouted, giving him the puppy dog eyes.

"That's not going to work on me," he said, his lips twitching in amusement.

"Wow, you're the worst," I said, giving up.