Page 15 of Falling For The Billionaire Rockstar

I was about to turn over and return to sleep when my phone began to ring. “Oh, for the love of God,” I exclaimed, flinging my pillow aside as I got out of bed.

“Where the hell is my phone?” I tried to locate the sound, but it seemed to come from everywhere. Eventually, I found it in the dining area. I picked it up and looked at the caller ID before answering the call.

“Layla.”

“Good morning, sir. Just calling to remind you that your meeting is at ten this morning. Your assistant is already on his way.”

I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the time on my lock screen—it read 8:45. I sighed, realizing that the fatigue from the night before had prevented me from going through the email she had sent. She knew this, which was why she was calling.

“All right then.” I ended the call and returned to my room, already fully dressed and ready to leave when I heard a knock on my door.

I opened it to find a man with blond hair and green eyes, clad in a gray suit, wearing an awkward smile. “And you are?” I asked.

He stretched out his hand quickly. “Anderson Carter. I am the assistant assigned to you. A pleasure to meet you, sir.”

I studied him for a moment before walking back inside. “You were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.”

He walked in and closed the door. “I apologize for that, sir. There was a gridlock on my way here.”

“Are gridlocks common around this time?”

“Not exactly, sir. You don’t have to be worried. I’ll make sure we get there on time.”

I turned to look at him again. “Are you my assistant or my driver?”

“Your assistant, sir,” he said, the light in his eyes dying as he realized I was not intending to go easy on him.

I took a step closer to him so we were standing uncomfortably close. “So, tell me, how do you intend to ensure that I get there on time?”

There was a long silence, and I watched him fidget as he looked for what to say to me. “Did I say something wrong, sir?” he asked finally.

I shook my head in disapproval. “What’s my itinerary?” I walked away from him and headed to the table where my laptop was.

He jumped back to life as he pulled out his tablet from his cross bag. “Yes, um . . . so first, you’re supposed to meet with them for breakfast at ten. After that, the tour of the company is scheduled before the meeting, which would be at one p.m.”

“Are the first two absolutely necessary?” I asked, closing my laptop and standing up as I grabbed my watch.

“Well, yes, sir. If we’re looking to build trust with our associates, then it will be best to attend the breakfast and tour.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Anderson, sir.”

“Anderson, you and I are not going to get along well. Wipe that smile off your face.”

His smile dropped, and I walked past him and out of the room.

He hurried behind me, struggling with his bag and tab. “Can I ask why you think so, sir?”

“Because we do not build trust by clinking glasses over a plate of steak. We build trust by increasing sales and adding effective resources to the partnering company.”

“Well, I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong. The only thing you’ve done is put me in a position where I have to sit at a table with self-opinionated old men who are more interested in how to fatten their pockets than they are in the development of the company.”

“Well, perhaps you could just act like you actually enjoy their company.”

I stopped abruptly, and he stumbled, trying not to bump into me. “I am a businessperson, not an actor. If we attend breakfast with them, I can assure you, I will only end up gaining rivals. It might be good for sport, but it’s too early for that.”

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