Page 11 of Flirting with my Billionaire Boss

I blink at her. What a strange question. “Well, yes. Don’t you have a driver’s license?”

“Of course, I do. It’s just—You know what? Never mind.” She shakes her head. “Thank you.” She takes the keys from me.

Stella appears behind us. “I’m going to head out, guys. I need to get to work. Let me know if you need anything, Callie.”

“Of course. Thank you for everything, Stella.”

“Why don’t you go get your stuff, and when you come back, I’ll give you a tour of the place and go over everything I’ll need you to do?” I suggest.

“That sounds good to me,” Callie says.

* * *

Callie returns to my home not long after she left. I can see Martha opening the door from where I’m sitting behind the desk in my office. Callie is standing on the porch with a tiny suitcase behind her. I think about all the bags Jenni brings with her when our families travel together. It’s like Callie is staying for only one night.

“Do you need help unloading the rest of your belongings?” I ask.

“This is it for me,” she says.

My jaw falls open. I promptly snap it shut. “Okay.” Callie is one strange girl. But who am I to try to understand the inner workings of a woman’s brain? Those strange creatures never cease to confuse me. As soon as I think I’ve figured out what’s going on with them, someone else pops up with a miniscule suitcase, declaring that’s all she needs.

“I guess you have it handled then.” I stand up. “I’ll show you where your room is.” Normally, I would have asked Martha to show her around, but I feel strongly drawn to Callie. And now I’m making up excuses to show her around instead of working on the large list of pressing tasks I need to accomplish before the day’s end.

I lead her down the long hallway.

“Did your mom go home?”

“She did. Why do you ask? Scared she’ll try to have you thrown out?”

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” Callie admits.

“Don’t let my mom scare you. She can seem intimidating at first, but she really does mean well. She’s only trying to protect me.”

“Did something bad happen with your last assistant?” Callie asks.

“We caught her stealing from me. My mom’s worried it might happen again.”

“I would never steal from you. But you can’t really know that. First, I’m not that kind of person, and second, I need to keep this job—” Callie stops short like she’s said too much.

Interesting. The more I get to know this woman, the more intrigued I become. She’s running from something, and I can’t imagine what it must be. Hopefully, I didn’t make a mistake in hiring her. Am I a fool for allowing a pretty face to cloud my judgment? Is that what I did? Callie seems to be well-put together, and I need an assistant right away. I have a good feeling about her anyway, even though she’s clearly hiding something.

5

CALLIE

Weston shows me around the mansion and leads me to a gigantic room with a king-sized bed in the middle of it. There’s a sitting area on one side of the room with a chandelier hanging over it. He walks into the massive chamber. “This will be your room.” He pushes open a side door. “And this is the en suite bath.” The floors are the same marble as the rest of the house, and a huge soaking tub with a shower is the highlight of the space. It’s nicer than the master bathroom at my house with Markus. And now I’m just the hired help.

“My room is just down the hall if you need anything. You can set up in the smaller office next to mine.”

“Do you mostly work from home?” I ask.

“It’s split between multiple locations. We spend a lot of time in Atlanta as well. We have a helicopter that we can take to my penthouse downtown. You’ll be coming along with me wherever I go. I’ll have another car you can use in the city.”

I thought Markus was loaded. This was a whole other level. While it was nice to have such luxury around me, part of me hated it. Because it was all coming from a wealthy, powerful man. Everything that I’d grown to despise—they tended to use that power in a selfish, cruel way.

I hear the jangle of a dog’s collar, and Skipper trots into the room. He jumps up onto the bed in one giant bound and curls up in the middle of the expensive bedspread. “He really runs this place, doesn’t he?”

“I’m afraid so,” Weston says. “I need to put him in doggy lessons or something to get him under control, but I’ve been too busy with work to set aside time for that.”

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