Page 21 of Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire

"So…" she says, tapping her foot against the carpet. "This is a cool office." She looks out of the large window into downtown Manhattan and appreciates the view that I love staring at every single day. "Wow, what I wouldn’t do for a view like this."

"Oh?" I ask her, leaning forward. "What wouldn’t you do for a view like this?"

"Lots of things." She giggles nervously. "I mean, I wouldn’t give you a…" She pauses, her face going red. "I mean, I wouldn’t do anything naughty, you know?" She wrinkles her nose. "So, why was I summoned here?" she asks, and I want to start laughing again because she really doesn’t have a way with words. I kind of like her awkward demeanor though. I kind of like that she’s not polished. I like that she says what’s on her mind. It makes me trust her, which is something I don’t often do with women, especially when these articles come out and I find clusters of them around me.

"So, last night we were talking and—"

"Oh, my gosh, you’re not talking about my nickname, Sarah the Slutty Stripper, are you?" She makes a face, and I sit back.

"Sorry, what?"

"Look, I know we told you my nickname was Slutty Stripper because I’m really great at… never mind that. I know I said I love to wear a thong and dance around, but I’m past those days. Well, I mean, those days were never really true… I mean, I’m not a liar. I know it sounds really stupid that it would be a lie, but it’s kind of a lie… I was never really a stripper. I was never really called Slutty Sarah. I do wear a thong, but do not have a thong on right now. I’m not going to take off my clothes and dance around for you. I do take pole dancing lessons." She rushes out her words, and I have no idea what she’s talking about.

"You take pole dancing lessons?" I ask her because she has me confused by her conversation, but I did catch that part.

"I mean, for fun. Not because I want to be a stripper." She takes a deep breath. "I have never made lots of money on the stripper pole or… Oh, I am just making this worse, aren’t I?" She throws her hands up in the air and leans back in the chair.

"Yes," I say honestly.

"Long story short, I’m not really a stripper. Never was, never will be, never want to be. So, if you invited me here for a dance, the answer is no."

"Hmm, I don’t really know what to say because I don’t really know what’s going on here, Sarah. I didn’t ask you to come to my office so you can strip."

"Oh, so you didn’t call me into your office to give you a lap dance?" She blushes.

"I mean, are you offering to give me a lap dance?"

"Well, that’s what you asked me earlier, and that’s why I thought you wanted me in here to…" She pauses. "I should just stop. Maybe you can tell me why I am here and how it pertains to last night."

"You’re in the copywriting department, right?"

"Yeah," she says. "Oh, please don’t fire me. I can’t afford to lose my job right now."

"No, I’m not about to fire you, Sarah. I want your help writing a jingle."

"Oh." She looks confused. "But yesterday when you came to the office, you didn’t want to speak to any of us. You wanted to speak to my boss."

"Well, now I do want to deal with you and only you. I want to see how good you are at copywriting." I’m not sure where the idea came from, but it’s a good one. I do need someone to write me a jingle, and she’s as good a person as any; maybe this will be a chance for her to shine and win a promotion. Not that I’m going to tell her that because I’d hate to tell her that her jingle sucked and the promised promotion was off the table.

"So, that’s why you called me to the office?" she asks, reaching up and pulling her hairband out unconsciously. Her hair cascades down her back, and I want to reach over and touch her silky tresses. Of course, I don’t though. That would be highly inappropriate.

"I do. Do you think you’re up for the challenge?" She nods slowly.

"I mean, I know I’m up for the challenge. I’m always up for the challenge." She grins wickedly, and my stomach flips. "I am known as—"

"Please don’t tell me you’re known as Slutty Stripper Sarah, the dancer that can also perform the best jingles in the world," I say, cracking a smile, and she laughs.

"Huh? You’re kind of funny when you want to be, aren’t you, Mr. Rosser?"

"Call me Ethan," I say, going against everything I’ve ever thought or believed when it comes to dealing with employees.

"Okay, Ethan. So, when do we get started?" She leans forward eagerly and clasps her hands together. "I think you’re going to be really impressed at my way with words.”

9

Sarah

Dear Diary,

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