Page 50 of Billion Dollar Mistake

“Good. I’ll keep you updated,” he says, turning around and making his way out of my office.

Before leaving, I check my email and read a new one about the need to hire new accounting staff. Immediately, thoughts of Nova come to mind, prompting me to impulsively text her.

Jeremy: Do you want a new job?

I regret it the moment I send it. Why did I fucking do that?

Nova: No. I just got one. Why?

The regret worsens when she replies with a no.

Jeremy: I’m offering you one here.

Nova: Thanks, but I’m happy here.

Jeremy: If you change your mind.

Nova: Thanks, Remy.

With disappointment sitting heavy in my gut, I refocus on work. Standing up, I get ready for my meeting and hit the button on the telephone to tell Kirstie I'm ready to leave. But as I grab my things, my mind drifts. And I can’t help but wonder why she’d rather work for Bentley than for me.

Chapter 14

Nova

He offered me an accounting position at his work, but I could never take it. I couldn't work for someone I had feelings for or that I’m attracted to. It'd be a conflict of interest. Whether he feels that or not, I couldn't accept his offer.

Would it be better to work for his company than Bentley's? Of course, but working for him is not an option. I need to focus on being here. Not worry about another job opportunity.

Since I started, Bentley has been better. He’s much more professional. His eyes stay on my face and there’s no flirty behavior.

As I stand there, I look at my wardrobe, wondering what the heck I'm going to wear to this work celebratory yacht party.

Like seriously, who the hell throws these types of things?

Bentley Spencer does.

His description of attire was casual. I can’t dress casually at a work event. Even though the way Mr. Spencer describes it is less work and more play.

I get confused by Mr. Spencer. My dad always taught me, bosses are not lenient and carefree ever, and they often have very strict rules. Plus, I like structure. It makes sense to me. His way comes with added stress.

Even though Dalton and Poppy both insist I go casual, and that Mr Spencer is serious when he says it’s a celebration.

Dalton is wearing black skinny jeans and a white shirt and sneakers, of course. Poppy said she's wearing a flowy dress and some wedges. She still barely looks in my direction or says more than a few sentences, but it’s more than what I got when we first met.

My eyes run across every single item hanging in my closet and then I prowl through drawers of clothes. Nothing. I'm not happy with anything in my wardrobe. I typically don't wear dresses. You’re more likely to find me in jeans and a top. Or shorts and a top.

But now I'm second-guessing myself.

As I take the stairs, I’m hit with a rich buttery smell. Eggs and bacon. I inhale deeply as I hit the final step and enter the kitchen.

“Good morning,” Summer says.

“Morning,” I say, twisting my hands together. “Can I ask a favor?” I add.

She turns her head from the stove. She’s still stirring briefly to look at me. “Yeah, what's up?” she says.

I walk closer and she turns to stir the eggs once more before switching off the burner.

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