Page 2 of Billionaire Wolf Needs an Assistant

He ignored my outstretched hand, moving to settle into the leather chair behind his desk. "Your resume shows no relevant experience. The agency must be getting desperate. Give me one good reason why I should hire you." His fingers, strong yet elegant, drummed on the desk as he waited for my answer.

Even as my cheeks ached from the effort, my smile didn't waver. "What I lack in experience, I make up for in dedication and quick learning, Mr. Song. I'm ready for any challenge." I meant it too, if I lost this job, then I couldn't make rent this month. Lacey and I would be on the streets.

The edges of his lips curved, but it was a snarl more than a smile. "We'll see about that." He gestured to a mountain of boxes in the corner. "Those contain files and letters from my late father. They need to be organized and digitized. Get it done by the end of the day if you want to keep this job." Something darkened his expression at the mention of his father, but it was gone in a flash and quickly covered by his stoic mask.

I turned toward the towering pile of haphazardly packed boxes. The stack came up to the top of my head. There had to be more than twenty boxes. Random bits of paper and folders stuck out of the tops, and from the yellowed color of some of the papers, there was a good chance the documents were older than me. It was an intimidating mess, but I had experience digitizing my hometown's records during my last summer at home before I moved away for college. This was just a larger version of a similar problem.

"I'll get right on it, sir."

He nodded. "Sophia will show you to your desk," he said before he turned his chair toward the computer and began typing. I was clearly dismissed.

When I walked out of the office, Sophia was already waiting for me at a desk on the opposite side of the reception area as hers. Her smile was smug. "Don't get too comfortable. No assistant has lasted more than a week here."

While I settled at my new desk, Sophia went into Mr. Song's office with a push cart to retrieve the box of files. I examined the barren workspace and the generic computer screen. There was a yellow sticky note on the monitor with the login credentials and a box of tissues on the desk. Pulling open the desk drawer, I found a row of pens with Alpha Fang's logo on them and a half-empty bottle of ibuprofen.

Sophia came out with the files and dumped them next to my desk. I rolled up my sleeves. None of them thought I could handle the work, but I was going to show them what this small-town woman could do.

Eight hours later, my back ached from hunching over the documents and feeding them through the scanner. It was almost the end of the work day, but I finished scanning every last piece of paper. I'd skipped lunch, using the time to enter each file into a database. Satisfaction swelled in my chest as I knocked on his office door.

"Enter."

"The files have been digitized, sir. I've emailed you access to the database. Everything is categorized by date for easy searching."

He looked up sharply, disbelief flooding his face briefly before his expression returned to its usual stony façade. "Show me." He pushed back his chair and signaled for me to come closer.

I leaned over his desk and used his computer to navigate to the shared folder where I stored the system I had created. Standing so close next to him, I was acutely aware of the heat of his body. Our shoulders brushed as I maneuvered the mouse. A tingle crept across my skin, keeping me on edge. My voice shook as I described how I had organized the files.

Finally, he leaned back into his chair. Folding his arms behind his head, he studied me for an uncomfortable moment.

"That will do," he finally said. "You can go home."

I had barely reached the door to his office before his voice stopped me.

"Make sure your schedule is cleared for Christmas. I have an important project that will require your assistance."

If I wanted to keep this job, I would have to give up the one day of the year when I had the opportunity to see my family. Nothing could keep my voice from wavering when I answered him. "Yes, sir."

By the time I gathered my things from my desk, I noticed the office was empty. Sophia had already left. I rode the elevator down to the main lobby and walked out into the crisp late afternoon air.

My feet ached in my stiff shoes, but I couldn't help but smile as I texted Lacey. She was the only person who would understand what a victory it was for me to survive my first day at work.

I finished typing my text and hit send. As I put my phone away, I turned around and stared up at the tall glass building. It was too far away for me to make out any details, but I swore Mr. Song was watching me from the windows of his office.

Chapter 2

KATIE

"I'm so sorry, Mom," I whispered, fighting back tears. My family crowded around the laptop screen, their faces glowing in the warm, golden light of the Christmas decorations they'd hung behind them. The cheerful twinkle of the lights only made my bare, dimly lit apartment feel colder, emptier. The silence here was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the radiator struggling to keep up with the winter chill. To make it worse, Lacey was miles away in Paradise Peaks with her boss, leaving me utterly alone on what was supposed to be the most magical night of the year.

"I know this job came up suddenly," I continued, my fingers nervously twisting the strand of yarn in my hands, "but I promise I'll make it up to you at Easter. I'll be there. I swear."

Mom's brave smile wobbled, and my chest ached at the sight of unshed tears in her eyes. She blinked quickly, trying to hide them, but I knew her too well. "We understand, sweetheart. Your career has to come first. I only wish you had chosen a less demanding job." Behind her, my younger sisters made funny faces at me, already wearing the matching Christmas pajamas I was supposed to have gotten at our annual holiday exchange. The empty spot on the worn plaid couch behind my mom where I should have been sitting felt like a physical wound, reminding me of everything I was missing this year.

"I've been crocheting your presents," I said quickly, desperate to fill the silence. I held up the half-finished scarf in Mom's favorite shade of blue. The cheap acrylic yarn was a far cry from the soft merino wool I'd dreamed of giving her, but I'd put extra love into every stitch, hoping that it would somehow make up for my absence. "I'll overnight them tomorrow. They should arrive before New Year's."

"Just take care of yourself," Dad chimed in, his forehead creased with worry lines I didn't remember being there last summer. His voice was gruff, but the concern in his eyes was unmistakable. "That fancy harbor city is expensive. Are you eating enough?"

I angled the camera away from my dinner of instant ramen and the stack of unpaid bills on my tiny kitchen counter. "I'm fine, Dad," I lied. Forcing a bright smile on my face, I shrugged. "The job pays well, and I'm already learning so much." There was no need to mention the impossible demands from Mr. Song or the way most of my coworkers looked at me like I was dirt on their designer shoes. "My boss is challenging, but in a good way. He pushes me to be better."

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