Page 156 of Billion Dollar Mistake

A new email pops up at 3p.m.

I open it when I see it’s from Mr. Spencer.

Nova,

Welcome back. I hope you’re settling back in. Can you come to my office for a chat?

Bentley Spencer

Spencer Health

I quickly type a response.

Mr. Spencer,

I’m feeling great. Glad to be back and working. I will head upstairs now.

See you soon.

Regards,

Nova

“Guys, Bentley wants to see me in his office.”

“Now?” Dalton calls out.

“Yep,” I reply as I stand and leave my desk.

“Good luck,” Poppy calls out.

I walk to the elevators and head to the top level. It’s funny how stepping into an elevator after a car accident like mine has changed me. I’m no longer fearful or anxious about stepping into it; however, cars make me hold my breath and give me a try not to vomit type of feeling.

I lost one problem and gained a new one. I hope in time I relax about driving again.

I leave the elevator and his personal assistant says he’s waiting for me.

Arriving at his door, I knock. He’s facing the windows looking out over the city. It’s a nice view, but he still irks me. I can’t put my finger on why, but it doesn’t matter because just as I suspected, I barely have to deal with him. Dalton and Poppy are wonderful, and the work I do is truly exceptional.

Like a dream career. But worry swarms my gut and has me wondering if Bentley is about to deliver bad news. I’ve been off early into my contract. I’m sure he’s pissed off.

At the sound, he swivels in his chair. He sits reclined with an ankle draped over the other, wearing a cheesy smile.

“Nova,” he says and sits up, dropping his foot and then standing.

“Mr. Spencer, you wanted to see me?” My voice is a tad shaky, giving away my fear of losing my job.

It’s not like I’m worried about paying for my parents’ house or giving them money. But I do love working. I want my career. If I lose it today, I have to go and find a new one, which would be difficult right now as I’m still recovering from the car accident. I want to stay here.

I know I’m a great asset. I just hope he doesn’t throw me out without giving me a chance to prove myself.

“Yes. Take a seat.” He gestures to the seat in front of his desk as he sits on the side of it.

I move toward the chair. His eyes drop over my dress. I see nothing has improved in the last month, except he doesn’t rake his eyes over me for as long. Still annoying, but right now I want him to put me out of my misery more than I want to call him out for being a jerk.

I take a seat and my hands automatically grip the chair. I’m waiting for the blow.

“I want to inform you…”

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