“Why are you looking for a new assistant?”

“Because my last one quit.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Apparently, I’m a workaholic bastard. Who knew?”

“Well, I have no interest in bars, parties, mobile games, or whatever the rest of my peers are into since I’m a workaholic, too. I’m assuming you’d prefer someone like that at your side.”

“Yes, but that’s not all I need in an assistant.”

I try not to squirm in my seat. If he’s looking for sex, I know it’s not smart, but I’m leaning toward sign me up. On the other hand, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t risk his billion-dollar-plus empire for a sexual harassment suit and a piece of ass.

“You require other qualities.”

“Yes.”

And he’s not going to tell me what they are. “You want me to figure them out.”

“Astute of you.” He looks pleased.

Hades chooses that moment to wander into the bedroom with a meow, rub up against me, then leap onto the bed before nudging Mr. Force’s hand, demanding attention. I’m fascinated when the man pets the sleek black animal, who looks back at his human with an expression that suggests he should be grateful for the attention. Then the feline walks in a circle, curls up against Mr. Force’s thigh, and closes his eyes.

“He’s your cat.”

“No. He glommed on to me out of necessity. I tolerate him because he’s a good foot warmer in winter.”

That’s not true, but getting Mr. Force to admit it is pointless. I need to keep driving until I find out what he wants in an assistant. So far, he likes the fact I’m persistent and dedicated, I problem solve, and I have gumption. If he didn’t, I’d already be gone. But there’s something more…