Page 48 of Trapped with the Billionaire

I didn’t feel like being on a first name basis with him anymore. “Look, Benson, what do you want from me? You’ve taken my family’s company, and I have no stomach to watch you dismember it.”

He leaned forward. “Let’s get this straight, Rossi. I had nothing to do with the purchase of your company. Your boss came to my dad with a cash-flow problem and suggested we buy him out.”

That said it all. The fuckhead had been the driver behind this.

“Be that as it may,” he added after a moment. “The deal’s been done, and it’s up to me…up tousto make it work.”

I saw my opening. “The only way I see forusto make this work is for you to exercise your right of rescission and provide bridge financing for us while we go find another bank.”

“And how does that benefit me, and Benson?”

It was my turn to lean in as the aggressor. “It would keep you from failing. It would keep your company and family from being vilified for destroying a California institution, along with the lives of everyone working here.”

He laughed. He fucking laughed in my face. “I don’t fail, and I’m offering you a chance to be part of the success.”

I rose. “Pardon me. I have an exit interview to attend. I don’t work for arrogant pricks.” I gathered my purse. “Or losers.” I stepped around him on my way to Rosa’s.

“This isn’t over, Nicole,” he barked.

I turned at the door. “Yes, it is, Mr. Benson.” As I continued through the workspace, I felt the weight of many eyeballs on me. The offices weren’t as soundproof as they should be.

Rosa’s office was down the back hallway, away from the commotion I’d just been part of. Thankfully, her door was open and she was at her desk.

I closed the door behind me. “I came in as soon as I could.”

“You didn’t need to rush. And first, Mr. Benson wants to have a talk with you about staying on. Personally, I think you should listen to him.”

I rolled my eyes, less professionally than I should have. “We talked.”

“And?”

“And nothing. He talked. I listened. No change.”

She looked over her glasses at me with a crease between her brows. “You’re sure?”

I nodded. “Positive.”

I hadn’t been as positive about anything since the day I’d turned down Marty Feldstein for the junior prom. The boy’s mother had fixed him sardine sandwiches with garlic mayo for lunch, and he’d smelled all afternoon, every afternoon. I knew because I had the misfortune of being his lab partner in chemistry class.

Rosa slid over a set of papers. “These are about your COBRA option for continuing health insurance.”

That was another detail I hadn’t considered in my admittedly rash decision to leave. The dollar numbers for individual and family coverage were pretty large. “Are these quarterly or annual payments?”

Rosa didn’t roll her eyes at my mistake, but her frown told me I’d gotten it wrong. “Monthly,” she replied.

I took in a breath and swallowed. “Do I need to sign this now?”

“You can take it with you. You have thirty days to decide. The next item is a bit more complicated.” She handed me a folder. “The non-compete agreement. You’ll want to read this carefully.”

“I already signed it.”

“Now you’re signing that we’ve reviewed it and you understand everything.”

I opened the file and started reading the agreement from two years ago. I hadn’t remembered how restrictive it was. The sentences started out bad and only got worse.

The employee may not accept employment with any competitive enterprise, whether for profit or non-profit, within the eighteen months following termination from the company.

That was the bad part. Somehow I’d remembered six months, not eighteen. A year and a half was an eternity to not be able to work. A worse sentence came lower down.

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