Page 4 of Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire

"But, sir, I’m sure I can make you fall in love with me," he says with a wink as he saunters to the desk and sits in one of the leather chairs. "How many emails have you gotten already saying the very same thing?"

"No idea." I walk back to my chair and sit down and face him. There’s a stupid expression on his familiar face that makes me want to laugh and smack him at the same time. Our relationship is one of the most important in my life. He is like a brother to me. "Just so you know, I don’t read any of the emails I receive. I delete them. I wish I could delete my email address from the website, as well."

"But we both know that Rosser International is a company that stands for transparency. From the CEO to the clerks in the mailroom," he reminds me of my mantra, and the policies I instated years ago, and chuckles. "Isn’t that why stocks are up thirty-one percent this year? Or is it that all the women in the world want to invest in your company because they think they will have a chance with you if you know they’re a shareholder?"

"Or maybe they are hoping to have a chance with you?" I suggest as I take in his short, dark hair and vivid green eyes. Jackson Pruitt was the second most handsome man behind me when we were at Harvard getting our MBAs. At least, that’s what I always teased him and said. I know that many women prefer his looks to mine. They definitely prefer his lighthearted, flirtatious personality to my overly serious one. I don’t have time for small talk or banter. I didn’t have time for it in college, nor do I now. Back then, I focused on saving the family company. Now that I’ve saved it and have plenty of money, I should be more lighthearted. But the responsibility of thousands of families rests on my shoulders, and I take that very seriously. I have money to continue to make and families to support, including my own.

"They can have a chance." Jackson winks and places his palms on the table. "And if they can blow my mind on the first date then they get a second date, where I’ll actually spend some money on them."

"You’re a dog."

"I’m not the only one that dates a lot," he shoots back at me.

"But I don’t sleep with them all."

"You sleep with some of them though." He grins at me. "Don’t pretend to be a monk with me, Ethan. You forget we date in the same circles. There are many women who talk about your prowess in the bedroom."

"What can I say?" I shrug, a certain smugness in my tone. "I like to fuck. What red-blooded male doesn’t? I can’t help it if I’m so amazing in bed that women always want more. Sorry the women you date don’t feel the same."

"Most men don’t have a five-date rule though." Jackson leans forward on the desk. "And most don’t tell women on the first date that there will not be a sixth date or sex after the fifth time."

"I like to be clear about what is available when going out with me." I grab some folders and hand them over to him. If he’s going to waste my time and annoy me, then he might as well be given more work. "Enough about my love life. Nicholas sent over some contracts between us and several department stores for our new line of pendant lights. We need to have these read by tomorrow as we’re meeting with Home Design Depot in the morning to finalize the details for the first shipment. We have ten thousand items being sent out and a massive campaign starting next month."

"Didn’t Nicholas say the terms were good?" Jackson’s eyes are keen as he gazes at me, his brain back into work mode. "You still want us to go over them to find stuff he may have missed or just to be more knowledgeable?"

"We need to ensure we know exactly what they say." I remind him of my mantra, "Let there be nothing going on at the company that we don’t know about." I trust Nicholas; he is one of the best corporate attorneys in America, but I need to ensure I know everything I am agreeing to in every contract I sign off on. Since I was a young boy, I’d been taught by my grandfather Frederick that one should always have knowledge of everything going on in your own business. This was stressed to me as he watched his son and my father running his business into the ground. My father was not astute, lacked knowledge of basically everything, and had a gambling and woman addiction that led to a predilection for buying my mother anything and everything she wanted, no matter if he could afford it or not.

"I know." He nods. He knows all about my family history and my need to be diligent. "I actually came up to talk to you about the marketing campaign for the brass and gold dome lights designed by Lord Chambers. He wants to have a jingle created." Jackson smirks as I run my fingers through my hair in exasperation. It had been my idea to have a Royal Lighting Line, but dealing with the various members of different royal families was proving to be extremely tiring. Especially seeing as the lighting section of my corporation was only one percent of what we did. Yet the named royals designing some of the lights had expectations out of this world.

"A jingle?" I raise an eyebrow. "What does he think he’s creating? A new cereal for kids?"

"Hardly." Jackson laughs, and a light comes on in his green eyes, and I can tell he’s just had what he thinks is an ingenious idea. He stands up and heads over to me. "Though General Mills has had a—"

"Stop right there." I cut him off. "We’re not going into the cereal market."

"But…"

"But nothing." I lean back in my seat and think for a second. Lord Chambers, though not particularly talented, has a large social media following due to his handsome, good looks and daredevil lifestyle. He can sell several hundred thousand lights for us if we hit the market just right. If it’s a jingle he wants, it’s a jingle he shall get. I stand up and head back toward the door. "The cereal line is not going to happen, especially if we’re focusing on branching out into entertainment and, specifically, new musical artists. Shall we go down to copywriting and see if anyone can come up with a jingle?"

"You want to venture down to the copywriting department?" He grins in surprise as he jumps up and puts the folders under his arm. "Going to hang out with the peasants."

"They’re not peasants. I am accessible to everyone in the company."

"Sure you are." He laughs, and I know he wants to add something else but thinks better of it. Jackson and I have been best friends since high school. We both went to undergrad together and got our MBAs at Harvard. When I took over Rosser International, he was the first hire I made, even though he’d been recruited by Fortune 500 companies for far more money. He helped me grow the company into the huge success it is today and is my right-hand man. I love him like a brother, and even though we have different personalities, we get on like a house on fire.

"You coming?" I ask him as we exit the office. Edith is now on the phone and eating a sandwich, and all I do is smile as she gives me a happy wave. She might be an awful assistant, but she is like family, at this point. "Edith, Jackson and I are headed down to copywriting. I’ll be back in a bit."

"Sure thing, Ethan." She smiles at me as she lowers her phone from her ear. "Watch out for all the ladies who might want to marry you."

"There’s a no-fraternization policy at Rosser International," I remind her. "Everyone knows that."

"Yes, Ethan." She nods and then looks over to Jackson. "And what about you, Mr. Pruitt? Are you in the market for a wife?"

"I think that neither of us is in the market for a wife," he says as he hands her the bouquet of roses. "These are for you. Turns out, Ethan doesn’t want them."

"Ooh, thank you very much." She beams as she pushes her chair back. She places her phone down on the table loudly and grabs the flowers. "Let me go and find a vase. I don’t want these to dry out. Oh, what will my Frank say when he sees I’ve been given roses? He’ll be so jealous." There’s excitement in her tone, and I don’t question why she wants to make her husband of decades jealous.

"Sounds good." I nod and wrinkle my nose as I see my face beaming up at me from her table. The newspaper article is mocking me as it lies across her desk, and I turn back to Jackson with an annoyed frown. My furtive expression causes him to smirk, but I don’t acknowledge his holier-than-thou look. "Come on, let’s go. Hopefully, no one else in the office thinks they can talk to me about my love life.”

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