Page 12 of Billionaire's Accidental Marriage
“Please tell me I get to call you Mr. Mike.”
I blinked. “No.”
She pointed at me playfully. “Then, don’t call me Miss Mags.”
And for some reason, I had a feeling in the pit of my gut that this was going to get out of hand very quickly.
In all of the best kinds of ways.
3
Maggie
After having what I thought was a very lovely lunch hour where we hashed out some things, I knew the only fair thing was to give him at least an hour of my dinner time. So, after I clocked out at the spa, I raced home to gather all of the information I could on what I wanted to tackle with my father’s businesses first, then headed over to Mike’s place, where we sat at his gigantic dining room table with all of my files spread out.
“Wow,” Mike murmured as he picked up a bank statement, “you weren’t joking.”
I shook my head. “No, I really wasn’t.”
Mike slid on a pair of reading glasses, and it caught me off-guard.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
He peered down at the statement in his hand. “It’s a new development. Got them a few months back.”
“They look nice on you.”
He peeked up at me. “They don’t age me at all?”
I grinned. “I think the salt-and-pepper at your temples does more of that than your glasses.”
His face fell. “Aw. Thanks.”
I snorted. “You’re so welcome.”
He pointed. “Can you hand me that statement over there? I’m trying to organize them for my accountant.”
I blinked. “Wait, you're what?”
He snapped. “Just hand it to me, please.”
I did as he asked. “I don’t have money to pay—”
He looked up at me. “Having access to me as an assistant means having access to the people I work with. I can’t solve this financial issue, but my accountant can at least draw up a one-page document showing where you owe money, how much down to the penny, and then come up with a plan to help you pay things back, provided that you can get some money coming in from all eleven shops.”
That was more than I’d ever been able to do for him, so I stood to my feet. “Where’s your office?”
He waved his hand toward the kitchen. “Front door, to the left. It’s the door just before you start walking up the right side of the steps to the upper floor. Why?”
I stood to my feet. “I’m going to go take a peek at some things.”
“You know this is my time to help—”
I moved away from the table. “Just let me do it, Mike. Okay?”
He chuckled. “Dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes. The roast is finishing up in the oven.”
I shook my head and smiled as I made my way to his office, and when I pushed open the gigantic wooden double doors, I was met with more bookshelves and more chaos than I’d ever seen in my entire life. My jaw dropped open at the sheer number of papers and opened file folders strewn all over his desk. Some of them were even on the floor, for God’s sake!
