His Assistant (His Chance #3) Read Online Alexa Land

Categories Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors: Series: His Chance Series by Alexa Land
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
<<<<1231121>77
Advertisement

Read Online Books/Novels:

His Assistant (His Chance #3)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

Alexa Land

Language:
English
Book Information:

I knew going to work for movie star and party boy Harper Royce was a mistake.
It was a bigger mistake to sleep with him, but here we are.
At least this situation is temporary. I’m on the verge of a major breakthrough with my musical career, and then my days of working as a personal assistant are over. As long as I don’t fall for Harper, this should all work out just fine.
If only he wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous, but I can resist a pretty face. When he starts showing me his vulnerable side, though? Well, now I’m in trouble.
Books in Series:

His Chance Series by Alexa Land

Books by Author:

Alexa Land



Chapter 1

As soon as I saw the chickens racing toward me down the middle of the road, I just knew they’d come from Harper Royce’s house. It was exactly the type of chaos I’d expect from him.

I climbed out of the SUV just as a young guy appeared over the crest of the hill. He was running at full-speed, and when he saw me, he yelled, “Help! I need to catch those hens!”

The first of the runaways had reached me by that point. When I scooped up a fluffy, rust-colored bird, she squawked at me and flapped her wings while I swore under my breath. I held her at arm’s length while I stuck my leg out and tried to clothesline another chicken, who looked like a prisoner with her black and white stripes. Surprisingly, she actually had the sense to dodge around my leg, her little head bobbing as her skinny legs propelled her down the hill.

I was so busy staring in disbelief at the third chicken that it ran right past me unimpeded. The thing was a sand-colored ball of fluff, and the perfectly round pompom of feathers on her head was so big that only her beak stuck out. I had no idea how she could see where she was going.

The rust-colored chicken in my grasp was still squawking and flapping when the cute Asian-American guy caught up to me. He was gasping for breath as he came to a stop and asked, “Can you please help me get the other two?”

I handed him the chicken and gestured at my SUV. “Get in.”

We both hopped into the Bronco, and I did a quick three-point turn and took off after our quarry. My companion tried to put the hen in the backseat, but she immediately hopped up onto the center console between us, as if she wanted to see where we were going.

Once we got ahead of the chickens, I threw the car in park again, and we both jumped out and got ready to tackle some poultry. “I’ll take the black and white one,” I said. “You get the puffball.”

“Okay, but be careful. Atilla the Hen bites.”

That brought up a lot of questions, but before I could ask, the chickens were upon us. I lunged for Atilla and missed, so I ended up having to take her down in a flying tackle. This instantly enraged the chicken. She descended on me as I rolled onto my back in the middle of the street, squawking and flapping as she tried to pluck my short beard with her beak.

Fortunately, the guy saved me. He had the puffball under one arm, and with his free hand, he scooped up Atilla and shouted, “Open the car door!”

I leapt up and did as he asked, and he tossed both chickens onto the backseat, then shut the door behind them. A moment later, we heard the lock click. The rust-colored hen was staring at us through the driver’s side window, and when my companion tried the door handle, he exclaimed, “Oh come on, Pox! What did I ever do to you?” Then he turned to me and asked, “Do you have a spare key?”

“Not on me.”

He cupped his hands against the tinted glass and looked at the chickens. “Are they going to be alright in there? Maybe we should break a window or something.”

“The air conditioning is running, so they’ll be fine.”

I retrieved my baseball cap and sat down on the curb in front of a palatial Mediterranean-style mansion. While I pulled out my phone and looked up the number for roadside assistance, he came over to me and said, “Thanks for helping.”

“You’re welcome. Do you work for Harper Royce?”

“Yeah. I’m Kellan Cho, but everyone calls me Kel.” He tucked his slightly long, bleached-blond hair behind his ears and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Phoenix Jaymes.”

Alarm flared in his dark eyes. “Oh no, you’re Harper’s new personal assistant!” He sighed and muttered, “I’m totally getting fired.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Harper told his staff you were coming to the house today, and he said we all had to leave you alone. I definitely haven’t been following instructions.”

“Did he say why you had to do that?”

“Because you’re cranky, it’s easy to piss you off, and he doesn’t want you to quit on your first day.” A frown line appeared between his dark brows. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Always tell me everything, Kel.” I placed a quick call, then returned the phone to my pocket and said, “A locksmith will be here within the hour. I’ll stay with the SUV, but you can go back to the house if you want.”

He sat down beside me on the curb and stuck his legs out. He was wearing hot pink sneakers, which matched his shorts and T-shirt. “I’d rather wait with you if that’s okay,” he said. “Those chickens are my responsibility, and I need to get them home safely.”


Advertisement

<<<<1231121>77