by Shirley Hunt
The Billionaire and Me
COMPLETE SERIES
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Part Two
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Part Three
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Part Four Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
The Billionaire and Me
COMPLETE SERIES
By Shirley Hunt
Copyright 2015 by Shirley Hunt - All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without permission from the author/publisher.
Part One
Chapter One
There are times I have thought to myself “my luck has been so bad if I bought a grave yard people would stop dying!” Today has been one of those days for me.
For the past several years I had been working at the local college as an administrative assistant. It had seemed like a steady job, good pay, and there were always people wanting to enter college. I had really thought I was set for the longest time.
However, sometimes real life has a habit of pulling the right out from under you when you thought things were going well. I thought it had been for me and if I ever find the gremlin that caused all this chaos I’m dropping an anvil on his miserable little head!
It was nearing the end of the school year when notices were being handed out. There had been some cut backs due to school budgets but, like everyone else, I thought I would be spared the axe. In fact, I was confident that I would be spared. After all, the school did need an administrative assistant!
You know that old saying of “pride goeth before a fall”? Well, it sure seems to be true! No sooner than I was sure I wouldn’t be laid off I got quite the shock.
On my desk were two words printed in neat ink letters.
Amanda Granger.
My name.
My first reaction as to think that it was just some formality stuff. Surely I wouldn’t be getting laid off!
Now about that pride thing…
Not feeling at all worried I opened up the letter and began to read. If it were humanly my jaw could drop to the floor it would have.
I was getting laid off!
Despite my best efforts I began to feel myself sputter through the shock. How? Why? Why me of all people? I was certain I had seniority and would not have been let go.
Gradually my shock began to become replaced by anger. They were laying me off and no one had the testicular fortitude to actually get up off their rear ends and tell me to my face?
Sometimes my anger would get the better of me and I went to find the dean to confront him about this.
“We had cut backs,” the dean explained.
“But after all the years I’ve worked for this college?” I protested.
“I’m sorry, Amanda, but that’s the way that it is. If it’s any help you weren’t the only one who got laid off. You have plenty of valuable skills and anyone would be crazy not to hire you!”
I knew he meant well but that only made me angrier. “I heard Elizabeth got laid off too! What about her? She’s got two kids and another on the way! How’s she going to be able to get work? I could almost be more accepting of this if this college made more of an effort to be fair about it.”
“I’m sorry but it’s the budget cuts.”
I soon learned I would not get anywhere with this arguing and gave up trying to explain logic to the dean.
I ended up backing up my box and leaving the office the same day. It’s funny how the television shows show the person with just one single box as they leave. When it came to be my turn it took a few trips to the office and my car and then back again. Sometimes fiction was incredibly deceptive.
I had been lucky in that I had been smart and saved some of my money when I still had a job. I had enough to live on for a little while.
Job hunting in any economy can feel like a challenge and employers certainly weren’t reaching out to grab me up off the street.
For all my experience each employer found a reason to turn me down. Not enough experience in this, too much experience in that, even I don’t have the right amount of experience. It’s ironic that I have to get experience before trying out again for an entry level job.
My mother did point out that I should be grateful we live in an era where a person could not be rejected because of their skin color. I knew I should indeed be grateful that I didn’t have to go through what my parents and grandparents did with segregation and discrimination, but sometimes, when you’re frustrated it can feel like very poor advice.
Though the rejection slips were a sign that I was trying it was no help nor was it a comfort to me.
Grabbing my lap top I once again headed to that job site that was beginning to feel like a second home to me. I had been to that site so many times it was almost insulting that they hadn’t offered me a job!
I went through the usual listings and saw those that I had already applied for. The greeting card company listing was still up. They had rejected me and for as long as that listing had remained up I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were rejecting everybody who applied. As unlikely as that was it at least gave me a little comfort.
Finally, towards the end I saw another listing that had in orange letters next to it “apply easily!” The listing itself read “local businessman seeking personal assistant. Discretion a must.”
I felt my eyebrow rise. What was this? Some sort of listing where the businessman turns out to be a mass murderer? I was about to pass over this mysterious listing when I felt myself being drawn back to it. I knew how to type and was pretty quick at it too. I knew how to keep a secret like the best of them.
I was about to pass over it again when I felt myself pausing again.
I really had nothing to lose. I clicked the “apply easily!” button and off my resume went!
Now, now, we played the waiting game.
Chapter Two
When that company looking for the secretary didn’t call I had practically written them off. I felt frustrated and decided to take my sister, Janice, up on her offer to let me call her when I was feeling frustrated.
Let the ranting begin.
Janice and I had always been close together and could talk about anything. We were sixteen months apart and practically raised as twins. We would often talk to one another about things going on in our lives, complain about boys, and gush over whatever we had happened to fall in love with.
I heard the phone ring a few times before Janice picked up. I had called her from my land line just in the every so slight case someone would try to call me on my cell phone. I had given that number as my contact number for employers to call me back at. It felt ironic as I was pretty sure no one would be calling me. She asked me if I had any luck in finding work and I said no.
“Let me sit down while you rant away big si
ster,” Janice said.
She knew me too well.
At the same time I felt myself sitting down in a semi comfortable chair as I angrily thought about how no one would hire me. At least talking to someone who understood would probably help.
At the very least I was certain Janice would have some creative ideas or some sort of suggestion that would help me get back on the right track.
It was certainly better than sitting around and doing nothing.
“I can’t get a job without experience, can’t get experience without a job!” I protested.
“But you already have experience!” Janice answered.
“But to them, it’s not the right type of experience.”
“That’s just stupid.”
“Tell me about it!”
Janice paused before asking, “Do you have enough money to get by?”
“For now I do,” I admitted. “I was lucky in that I was smart to save extra money for a rainy day.”
Janice was about to speak when my cell phone rang.
Reaching out I took it into my hands to see who was calling. I can’t say I recognized the number but I did see the word “office” written across it.
“Uh, Janice, I’ve got to answer this,” I said to her. “Can you wait for me?”
“Yeah, I’ll be here.”
I set the phone down and answered my cell phone.
“Hello?”
“Yes, good morning, is this Amanda Granger?” A professional sounding voice on the other end of the phone asked.
“Yes.”
“Yes. You applied for a job at Covington Industries. Are you still interested in this position?”
I felt my heart stop. Covington Industries? I could be working for the Blake Covington?
It took me a few seconds to be able to find my voice again. “Uh, yes, yes I am,” I half sputtered.
Idiot, I told myself. You just blew your chance at getting this job before it’s even begun!
“We’ll see you tomorrow. Dress professionally, no jeans,” the voice said and then hung up.
I hung up my cell phone while feeling shocked. Could it have possibly been a joke? Why would they call me when there were probably so many other more qualified people out there?
Despite my shock I was able to tell Janice what had happened.
“That billionaire?” She asked. “Are you sure they gave the name Blake Covington?”
“They did. I’m in shock!”
“No offense Amanda, but Blake Covington can afford anyone to work for him! The man has more money than God! Do you even know what the position is for?”
I shrugged and said “it’s for a secretary position so it’s somewhere within the company. It’s unlikely I’ll be working directly with him after all! It’s probably for one of his employees.”
Working directly as his secretary was an absurd thought! He would be much more likely to hire someone who has far more professional experience than I have.
We talked some more before Janice had to go pick up her kids from school.
After our talk I didn’t feel any better. If anything I was even more wound up!
Against my better judgment I went to go look up more about Blake Covington. I knew about his wealth that he had inherited upon his father’s passing. The family was “new money” and they had become an incredibly successful, if not one of the most successful, businesses in these United States.
All of a sudden it really was incredibly intimidating and I began to debate with myself over going to the interview. What if it was just some joke? Why should I expect him to hire me, a nobody? I probably wouldn’t even get the job anyway.
My mind began to torment me in this way for the better part of the afternoon. If the position was for an everyday person I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But working for a wealthy person was a whole other matter.
Somehow I felt like I was being trapped in one of those no plot and horribly written so called romance novels. Except this was real life and I suspected I was about to get a pretty heavy dose of it.
Despite not wanting to I ate a decent dinner and went to bed for the night.
The next morning I got up, put on my nicest outfit, and went to my car to go to the interview. I had decided to arrive early just in case. One could never be too careful and I didn’t know what traffic would be like. I felt myself continuing to make excuses until I arrived at the office building.
The building itself was large and a dark beige in color. It seemed odd to me that for such a wealthy place they chose to stick with such a dull color.
After finding a parking space I got out of my car and into the building.
Here goes nothing, I told myself.
Chapter Three
The inside of the building was larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. From the outside one could easily be forgiven for thinking it was a tiny building when in reality it was huge. It reminded me of those houses that were built like igloos. From the outside they appeared tight and cramped but were surprisingly roomy.
The floors were some type of linoleum in a neutral color. The walls were painted white with off white colors painted on them to simulate wallpaper. All together it was welcoming and yet an incredibly boring color scheme at the same time. He didn’t really seem to be one for big flair which was probably why people close to go do business with them. I can’t say I’d feel comfortable doing business with someone who had a huge amount of colors all over the place and other weird looking things hanging all around in some sort of bizarre mimicry of Jackson Pollock. I had nothing against the artist but didn’t want to see his work everywhere.
Quiet music was playing over the speakers. It didn’t sound like that common music that plays over the speakers that is one step above elevator music. It sounded classical but I couldn’t identify the artist. Perhaps someone had some CDs that they brought in to play.
A middle aged woman sat behind a desk. She almost looked like one of those old stereotypical figures with short hair, fancy glasses with a chain around them. The chain that hung on her glasses and went around her neck sparkled with each turn of her head. I guessed they either had to be very good glass beads or some sort of expensive crystal to get that look.
Her dark eyes looked up and caught sight of me. “Can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m here for a job interview with Mr. Covington,” I carefully said.
The woman smiled at me and used her pen to point to some plush looking burgundy chairs. “Have a seat, please. We’ll call you soon.”
I thanked the woman and went to take a seat. I could see so many different people around me who were certainly higher up on the social status ladder than I was. Part of me wondered why I of all people would be chosen when there were clearly people with much more money than I had and were most likely better educated too.
One by one the line began to dwindle until I was the last one sitting there.
“Miss Granger?” A woman’s voice said.
I looked over to see a petite woman who was nicely dressed and holding a clip board.
“Yes?” I said.
“Come on in, please.”
Despite the wobbly feelings in my legs I was able to force myself to stand up and to walk into the room as gracefully and as quietly as I could. I had always walked with a heavy step, a fact I tried to hide all of my adult life when wearing heels. Personally I preferred flats but those weren’t really an option this morning.
I walked as steadily as I could into an office. This office certainly wasn’t like the romance novels and movies. It was a good sized office to be sure with a large window. Blinds had been pulled to the side to allow light to come in.
A calendar hung on the wall and various office supplies were strewn about.
The petite woman smiled at my reaction. “We get that a lot. Mr. Covington does prefer simplicity in certain areas.”
“Yes, well, sometimes simplicity is a good thing,” I said.
Smiling
once again the petite woman told me to take a seat and left me in the room.
Truth be told I was surprised that Mr. Covington himself was not in the office. For each job interview I had they always had the manager inside the office.
