Not My Billionaire
n I walk into my office, the
the speaker button. "What's up?" I ask,
st," she says. "Would
"Sound
so I remove my blazer and drape it over the back of my chair. Then, I stand up to pac
e back after a stint in rehab. The latter doesn't sound appealing to me, mostly because I'd need to become intoxicated to
iami, and, unlike me, she wasn't raised in a bubble. Therefore, she knows the best pl
can wrangle my meetings for the week, it's her. She's always found ways to o
en off for more than a few hours since my parents' accident, and it's clearly weighing on her. I could send her to one
h having a superior who's so young and inexperienced, especially considering she worked for my parents, the best in the business. "I believe that I need to ins
always seems happy to hear me talking about my parents. Even though the image of them send
will make sure they have your
Miami. As appealing as it would be to escape to the Maldives for a month or two, it wo
est,"
pte
ex
teady drip from the upper corner of my ceiling. A ring of brown surrounds it and dribbles down t
in mattress that I got at a steep discount when I moved in. My long blonde hair is loose around me, my scalp sore from the tight
p shorts, no blanket covering my thin layer of sweat. Because of the rain, I can't even ope
essage from my mom a timezone away. Still, it's late
is okay! Do you ne
I am determined to prove her wrong. I have a decent savings, almost enough to put down a deposit on a nicer apartment. Maybe th
put on the floor the week I moved in. I have to empty i
ow is open late. I hate lying to her, but I can't admit the truth. I'm miserable here. Even though I live in paradise, I'm s
hings will get better, I might flee this place and never come back, proving to everyone in
body hot and my
*
at least it isn't raining anymore. It doesn't usually rain
I would be fired pretty much immediately. The sun beats down on my skin, and I lock my door behind me, although wiggling it hard en
, and, despite the early hour, t