My Unwanted Billionaire

I can’t believe it. This is really happening. I look down on my body adorned with a brown pencil skirt, a white blouse, and black stiletto heels instead of the usual jeans and T-shirt I used to wear working at the coffee shop. I’m so excited and nervous to start my new job today.

I walk inside the building to the receptionist at the front desk for directions to my supervisor’s office. I can’t believe I am going to be working here. Somebody, please pinch me! I need to make sure this isn’t a dream.

“Ouch,” I say, feeling a sting on my right arm. “Why did you do that?” I ask the pretty lady at the front desk. She’s a beautiful brunette with gray eyes, an oval face, and a lovely smile.

“You asked someone to pinch you, so I did,” she says, still with that beautiful smile.

“I said that out loud?” I exclaim, my eyes are wide.

“You did, honey. Welcome to the Crawford Wine Company. My name is Nora, how can I help you?”

My new job is at a family-owned wine company founded in 1970. I only know this because the person who helped me get the job told me. I don’t know much about wine. But, I don’t think I need to know too much to be a secretary.

“My name is Eleanor, I’m the newly appointed secretary to Mr. Crawford. How do I get to his office?”

“I didn’t know Mr. Crawford needed a new secretary. Can you wait a minute? I need to call and confirm.”

“Sure, no problem.” Oh, my God. Why does she need to confirm? Could this mean I didn’t get the job? Why would the older Mr. Crawford tell me I got the job if I didn't? I’m hoping this is a minor mix-up. I come back from my runaway thought train when Nora speaks.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting; take the elevator to the twentieth floor. Once you get there, you’ll meet someone who can help you the rest of the way.”

“No problem, thank you,” I say, releasing a deep breath of relief. Thank God. For a minute, I was scared I didn’t get the job. The older Mr. Crawford told me he really had to convince his grandson, Jason, to give me the job. I’m so happy he did. This job will be the beginning of great new things in my life.

Following Nora’s instructions, I arrive at the twentieth floor. I’m greeted by another beautiful woman waiting by the elevator. She has the same dirty blonde hair color as me, but hers is styled in a short bob while mine is in a ponytail. She looks older than me, maybe in her early thirties. I’m guessing she should be around the ages of 32 or 33. I’m 23 years old, so that would make her older than me by ten years. If she started here at the same age as I am now. She’ll probably have a lot of experience.

“Good morning. My name is Vivienne. I’m Mr. Crawford’s secretary. I’ll be helping you settle in,” she says with a stern face.

“Morning. I don’t understand. You’re Mr. Crawford’s secretary? I thought I was hired to be his secretary?” I ask, confused. This is the second time someone's said he doesn’t need a secretary.

“No, you’re not. I’m Mr. Crawford’s secretary. You’re anything we decide you’re going to be.”

“Excuse me. I don’t understand what you’re telling me. That isn’t what Carson Mr. Crawford told me when we spoke on the phone.”

“Yes, of course, that’s not what he told you, but that’s what’s happening,” she says, confusing me further.

“Can you please explain what’s going on?”

“As much as I’d love to, I have a meeting. Once it’s over, the CEO will answer all your questions.”

“Alright, thank you. How long will I have to wait?”

“I don’t know. An hour or two.”

“An hour or two? That’s a long time. Do you have someone else who can help me?” I shouldn’t have to wait that long to know what’s happening.

“I’m sorry, we don’t have anyone. So it’s either you wait or say goodbye to your job,” she says sternly.

“Wow. Okay, I’ll wait.”

I don’t understand why she’s being so terse with me. Carson told me he got me a job at his grandson’s office and that I’d be his grandson’s new secretary, so I don’t understand the confusion since I arrived. I’ll just have to wait until the meeting is over.

After two hours, I realize she wasn’t kidding. I’m finally able to meet the CEO, and I’m a little nervous. This is the first time I’m going to see him in person. I’ve seen tons of pictures Carson showed me, but pictures are never the same as real life. I knock on the door of his office and wait.

“Come in,” a deep voice says from inside. I say a little prayer, then turn the doorknob and step inside.

Inside, I find him behind his desk, patiently waiting for me to approach. As I walk closer, I take in his features. His hair is black with some gray mixed. If I didn’t already know his age, I’d think he was a man in his 50s who got a bad dye job but still looks young. Carson told me his grandson is 37, so I know he’s not as old as his hair implies. Once I’m in front of his desk, I can see his face. His eyebrows are full, black, and shaped perfectly. His eyes are hazel brown and look like a pool of caramel. He has beautiful eyes. His nose is straight and a little pointed, but not too much. His lips are peach-colored and not too big, but not too small.

“Miss Brown, please take your seat,” the younger Mr. Crawford says, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.

I was so busy admiring him I didn’t get a look at the beautiful interior of his office. The walls are painted white except for a brown accent behind his desk. It’s a nice mixture of colors.

“Thank you, sir,” I say, taking a seat on one of the white chairs in front of his desk.

“I’ll try my best to make this quick and not waste our time,” he says, placing a document in front of me. “This is a contract stating you’ll leave my grandfather and me alone. I’ll pay you enough to make sure you don’t break the contract.”

I sit in shock at his words. What in God’s name is happening today? I was so excited to start working, but everyone’s telling me I don’t have a job since I stepped into this building. Now I’m being offered money not to work?

“Why would you think I’d sign such a contract?” I ask, insulted. I don’t bother picking up the document to read it because no matter the dollar amount, I’ll never take it.

“Because it’s money you want. And I’m giving it to you.”

“Yes, I want money. But I want to work for it.”