Page 14 of The Bossy Billionaire

“Busy? I thought I would come and check up on things,” he says, acting like Mr. Cool Calm and Collected. He is suave, I will give him that.

“I don't need my brothers’ friends checking up on me,” I mutter, putting my head down into the numbers again so I don’t look at his sexy smile or the way he looks at me with his baby blues.

“Here.” His arm thrusts out at me, and I almost melt. Coffee. I need coffee.

“Thank you.” There is no way I would refuse a coffee right now, so… I take it.

“You look like you need it. What’s happening?” He takes a seat in the small armchair on the other side of my desk without being invited. He is too big for it, and my lips quirk, watching him adjust himself in it as he puts one leg across his knee and takes a sip of his coffee.

“I’m trying to balance last month's finances. I’ve been at it for days.” I moan as I take a sip, hoping the caffeine hits soon.

“Want to email it to me? I can take a look.” He looks at me intensely from behind his cup. With concern, or with intrigue, I am not sure.

“You want to look at my books?” I’m skeptical. It feels a little invasive. I haven’t shown anyone my books. Mainly because there is nothing much to look at. Whatever comes in goes straight out again.

“Sure. As a business coach, that's what I do.” He offers me a small grin, and I chew my lip in thought. He is right. He is my business coach, and that is what they do. And I do need help with it all. I can’t keep going the way I have been. Something needs to change; I know that now.

“I am sure it is nothing, just something I am simply not picking up,” I offer, frustrated with myself that I can’t do it. Not wanting to be a burden to anyone else.

“Sometimes a fresh pair of eyes is good. I have a whole team that looks over my numbers every month. Some every week. As a business owner, you can’t be all things, all the time. Sometimes having some experts in your corner helps.” It makes sense. The business side of my brain knows that. The female side of my brain is just lazily looking at this gorgeous man, wondering how God made something so desirable.

“It’s just, every month things are pretty consistent, but this last month or two, things seem to have changed.” I frown thinking about it. It feels good to talk business with someone.

“So what's changed in the business? Has anything happened these last few months that could have affected it?” He asks a good question, and I find myself settling in, enjoying this conversation.

“Nothing. I mean, things change all the time, depending on what is happening in the community, what is happening with Harrison. Sometimes, if he is in the news a lot, I get an uptick in customers and a small spike in sales, which is great. It helps me clear the backlog of bills I have,” I tell him, and he looks at me seriously.

“Do you need security?” he asks, and I scoff. I think about the people who now loiter, the ones who stand outside the shop and look inside and watch me. The photos they take. They are harmless. I think.

“No. Nothing like that. Besides, my brothers already have a car that follows me everywhere,” I tell him, remembering the black car from the cemetery this morning. His lips thin like he doesn’t agree with me, but he nods.

“So think of both macro and micro adjustments. What happened in the store, with the stock, with customers, with building maintenance. Did you close the store for any reason and therefore were not open as many hours in the week as usual? Anything like that. That is your micro. Then think of your macro environment. Was there a new bookstore that opened nearby that may attract customers away from you? Does somebody else make better coffee nearby? Was there a public transport strike that prohibited people getting into the neighborhood?” I am quiet as I think about his words. He is smart. No wonder he is a billionaire. All his points are valid, and I try to do a quick filter through the last few months to see if anything sticks out, but it doesn’t.

“I’ll need to think about it, but I can’t recall anything that would make this difference. It is a small amount I am out by. Barely even something that you would bother with in your business, I am sure,” I say, trying to set expectations. He is smart enough to know I am surviving week by week, but I am still embarrassed that I can’t seem to make things work on my own.

“Every bit matters. Don’t talk yourself out of anything. This is your business, your baby. You need to run it how you want to, and if it is a small amount or large amount, it doesn’t matter.” Huxley is firm in his words, and they resonate. My confidence in myself rises slightly.

“Thank you.” I feel grateful to have him in my corner, but I am starting to understand that is exactly where he is. In my corner. With me. This business coaching thing is starting to feel better with each passing day.

“Anytime. You have my number too, so make sure you use it. Call me. For anything.” I get lost in his tone for a beat. It's like he is ready to give me the world without me even asking.

“Okay. I can email you the log-in for the accounting software I use. Maybe your eyes work a little better than mine.” I rub my eyes behind my glasses. This has been annoying me for over a week now. My eyes are sore from staring at the screen so much.

“Your eyes are perfect. Trust me,” he says quietly from behind his coffee cup, and I feel a small flush rise up my neck.

“So, just in Baltimore for the day?” I change the topic, trying to lighten the mood.

“Yes, actually, but I wanted to stop by to ask you something.” I can tell by the slight glint in his eyes he is up to something.

“What?” I ask tentatively, the smile on my face small, but there.

“I wanted to ask you on a date.” My eyebrows hit my hairline at that.

“A what?”

“A date.”

“What kind of date?”

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