Page 9 of The Grumpy Billionaire

ChapterFive

Stella

Hesh leans in.“He sometimes sends his assistant, Brenda, to snap people up for special projects. Do what you can to not get caught up in that net.”

“Special projects?”

“Mostly stuff that needs to be researched,” Jane says. “He has a team on the tenth floor for things like geopolitical or financial analysis, but now and then he comes up with questions for us to look into like we’re the voice of the common dipshit. Usually we have to fill out questionnaires or else go on social media and see where we think opinions are trending.”

“And you have to drop everything,” Hesh adds. “It’s a lack of respect, but what Hugh-dini wants, Hugh-dini gets.”

“If you’re ever in the same room as him, keep your head down,” Jane suggests with a concerned expression. “Unless he asks you a direct question, don’t talk to him. Don’t even look at him or you’ll be sorry. Even if you’re filling in at the courier desk.”

“Don’t even look at him or I’ll be sorry?” I ask incredulously. It’s just kind of funny.

“It’s true!” A woman with purple hair pops her head up on the other side, jack-in-the-box-style. “Do not, repeat, do not make eye contact with Hugh-dini.”

“Okay. No eye contact with Hugh-dini.”

“It’s sad,” Jane says. “All that hotness, completely wasted on the most antisocial person ever.”

Hesh adjusts his glasses. “If there’s an ASAP delivery that needs to get to Hugh-dini, try your hardest to leave it with Brenda. In situations where Brenda isn’t there, you’re going to need to bring it directly in to Hugh-dini. Minimize your interaction at all costs.”

Once people who work in an office get into full-on gossip mode, especially when there’s a newbie to get up to speed, there’s no stopping them, and the Hugo warnings roll on. People are a little ragey about an incident involving a sweet older woman named Vera. She used to be at the courier desk, but she was summarily moved to a far-away office at Hugo’s request.

“Moved to Siberia for no apparent reason,” the woman with purple hair hisses. She comes around to stand next to Hesh. “Not just to a different floor, but a remote site. She was like a mother to a lot of us. He took this mysterious dislike to her and had her banished.”

“Banished for no reason at all!” Hesh adds. “Hugh-dini’s a power-mad prince.”

I nod, but I happen to know that Hugo never does things without reason. Though the reason could be something like untied shoes, a lopsided hairdo, or a tendency to use the wordfewerwhen the wordlesswould’ve been grammatically correct.

God, if Hugo had that level of power growing up, he would’ve sent me to Siberia so fast. As it was, he seemed intent on banishing me with his mind, icy cold whenever we passed in the hall, averting his eyes when I’d be dressed up to go out with my girlfriends or showing too much exuberance. Like he was using every ounce of his energy to will me away.

“And Wulfric Pierce, the owner of Quantum, will back him up on anything,” Hesh warns. “Wulfric will chop off your head for nothing, and Hugh-dini’s his golden boy.”

“The two of them are easily billionaires by now,” Jane says.

“Hugo?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hesh says. “Wulfric’s a zillionaire, but Hugo would be a billionaire in bonuses alone.”

Viola appears at that point, and we all scramble to get back to work, but I’m stunned. I knew he was rich, but a billionaire? Does Charlie know about this? Do my parents know?

I force myself to focus on the PowerPoint, which practically has every word capitalized, and it annoys me so much, I spend most of the time imagining a slogan for a T-shirt that would say, “An initial cap does not make the word seem more important. Just stop.”

The rest of the time I’m stressing out about Hugo. Is he mad I didn’t thank him? Is that why he made that stunning cameo at the courier desk? To see the face of the ingrate who didn’t thank him?

Charlie wouldn’t even forward a thank-you text over to Hugo when I asked him. “Not making any fuss is how you thank Hugo. Thank him by leaving him alone.”

I assumed the directive was coming from Hugo, being the utterly antisocial and highly annoyed-with-me creature that he is, but what if that’s just Charlie’s thing? Am I the asshole?

I could figure out where he lives and send him a card, but he might think I’m stalking him—if his people even bother to show him random cards. As a billionaire, he probably has people, right? Is that a thing? I have no idea how billionaires live.

I don’t have his phone number to text him myself, not that he’d look at a text from an unknown number anyway.

My face gets hot as I feel that old rush of shame and awkwardness where I never know what to do or say, which usually makes me get loud and energetic, and then everybody says to tone it down, and I can’t.

In the end, I decide that’s a problem for future Stella, and I focus on being an amazing worker. It’s not complete bullshit that I’m a figure-it-out girl.

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