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.”

“You can quit the act. I’m not my grandfather. I don’t believe you’d prefer a job to sitting around collecting settlement money.”

“Yes, you’re clearly not your grandfather. He knows I’d never betray our friendship for a few dollars.”

“A few dollars,” he says, chuckling. “You insult me, Miss Brown. Why don’t you check the contract then tell me if that amount is a few dollars.”

“I don’t need to because no matter how much you’re offering, I won’t take it,” I say, pointing to the document.

“I insist you look before you say anything else.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Crawford, but I don’t want to know how much money you think is enough for me to stop being friends with your grandfather.”

“So, you’re telling me one million dollars isn’t enough to make you leave my grandfather alone?” he asks, smirking.

“What?” I ask, wondering if I heard him correctly. Who pays someone a million dollars because they’re friends with an old man?

“You heard me right, Miss Brown. I’ll pay you one million dollars if you sign this contract stating you’ll never speak or see my grandfather again.”

Is he serious right now? Why doesn’t he want me to be friends with his grandfather? The man is so lonely in his old age. Why is he doing this?

As much as the money would change my life, I can’t accept it. The condition that I stop seeing my friend is insulting to me as a person. I won’t lie; I want the money. But I’d feel cheap if I take it. I may not have everything I want in life, but I’m not so bad I’ll stoop to bribery.

“So, what do you say, Miss Brown?” he asks, eager to hear my answer.

“Mr. Crawford, I’m sorry, but I still won’t accept your offer. I prefer to work for my own money.”

“So, you’re sticking with your act. Just tell me how much more you want, and I’ll have my lawyers draft a new contract immediately.”

“Mr. Crawford, I don’t want your money.”

“Then what do you want?” he asks, angry with me.

“I want a job. That’s what I want,” I say, truthfully.

“That’s a lie; I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you don’t believe me because of how I became friends with your grandfather, but I’m not lying. I’m not friends with him for his money. I didn’t even know he had money until he got me a job. I’d like to work at the company he helped build and earn my own money,” I say, praying he’ll drop the subject and let me work here in peace.

“I don’t believe a single word out of your mouth. But, since grandpa wants you working here, I have to since I don’t technically have a reason not to.”

“Thank you so much,” I say, smiling. I was starting to get scared he wasn’t going to give me the job.

“Don’t thank me. I’m not the one who got you the job.”

“I know, but still, thank you. I have to ask though…your grandfather told me I was going to be your secretary, but I met a lady earlier who said she already is your secretary.”

“That’s correct.”

“If you already have a secretary, what am I hired for then?”

“You’re my personal assistant.”

“I thought a personal assistant did the same work as a secretary?”

“Yes, they do, but not in your case.”

“So what am I going to be doing?”

“You’ll run errands for me at the office,” he says, casually waving his hands.

“Alright.” Thank God my job’s something I know how to do. I was worried he might assign me something outside my field of expertise. Not that running errands has anything to do with my area of expertise. Anyone can run errands. My degree is in business management.

“That’s all for now; you can leave. Vivienne will work you through the rest.”

“Thank you, for allowing me to work here,” I say, standing up to leave.

“Don’t thank me yet. You won’t be here long,” he says with an evil smirk.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Nothing, Miss Brown.”

I walk out of his office, my head swimming. I can’t believe this is how my first day started. Even though Mr. Crawford allowed me to stay, I get the feeling things won’t go as well for me as I hoped.