The Billionaire's Intern, Book One: Life in a New City
Page 3
Chapter Three
Emily didn’t like to admit it, but she had searched Mr. Richardson as soon as she had gotten home. Sareh was still sleeping in her room and the apartment was dark. Emily sat on her bed, reading articles about him. His first name was Alec and, like Mike had said, he had made his money young through real estate. He had survived the recession and come out on top. The most amazing thing of all? He was only twenty-four.
Besides the fact that he was stunning, Emily couldn’t help but think that she could somehow find a way to mention she was a writer. If she mentioned it casually enough, maybe Alec would hire her.
But as soon as she thought it, she told herself she was being stupid. Most people probably tried to get a job out of him wherever he went. She would be no different from them if she attempted the same. Emily bit her bottom lip in thought. How foolish would she be to pass this up completely, though? She was in New York City to become a writer, not serve coffee to billionaires and let them pass her by.
Determination filled her. She’d find a way to get what she wanted. She’d just have to do it in a way that Alec would never see coming.
The next day, Emily found herself checking the door more than usual, waiting to see Alec come in. She tried to think of how she would slide in that she was a writer without slamming it into his face. This man was a billionaire and had probably seen it all. Emily had to be different. She had wanted to be a professional writer since she was a kid.
Writing had been all she had, growing up in her abusive household. It was the life boat that saved her in dark times. Sitting down in front of a notebook and bringing whatever she wanted to life with her own words brought her own life into focus, as well. Being in New York City meant this was the big leagues now. There were a hundred thousand other struggling writers in this city. She had to be the one to make it out of the heap.
The door chimed, but a tiny old lady came in instead. Mike was already taking the order when the door chimed once more. Emily glanced up and this time her heart thrummed. It was Alec. He was wearing another suit and was looking at his phone. He stood behind the old lady, who was taking roughly ten thousand years to order.
“What’s a latte?” She heard the lady ask Mike.
She decided to take things into her own hands and leaned over the side of one of the coffee machines, “Mr. Richardson? Can I get a drink started for you?”
He smiled and ordered something overly complicated, but Emily refused to muck it up. No, she was going to make the best coffee he had ever tasted in this establishment, and then she would pounce on him in the most respectful way possible.
The old lady finally understood the concept of a latte, but it proved to be too much for her. She ordered an iced coffee instead, which Mike commenced to making. Emily swooped over to the end of the counter, handing Alec his drink.
“Let me know if it doesn’t taste good. I’m still learning.”
Alec took a sip and smiled, “Tastes delicious. Emily, was it?”
“Yes, Emily. Just moved to the city, actually.”
“Hey, Em,” It was Mike, “You still have to charge Mr. Richardson for that.”
Emily felt herself flush as Alec chuckled, walking over to the register and paying for the coffee.
“See you tomorrow,” Alec said as he left and looked at Emily, “You work tomorrow?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good.” And he smiled.