Page 5 of British Billionaire
"Damn." I stand up and take a final sip of my coffee. It stopped being warm about an hour ago. But I need all the help I can get staying awake. "Why does it have to be so frigging difficult?"
In the wardrobe, there’s a bunch of clothes. They all fit perfectly. I don’t know how he knew my sizes, and the kinds of things I like to wear, but it’s like he hired a personal stylist to pick out my dream outfits and then bought them all for me before I arrived.
I put on a nice vintage-looking top and some tight, black jeans. They make my hips look fantastic. I apply a little bit of lipstick and some subtle eye makeup. I don’t want to overdo it - it’s meant to be a job interview - but for some reason, I also want to look sexy as hell.
By the time I’m finished, the time on my phone says five to nine. I take a deep breath and look in the full-length mirror on the wall. "Game time."
I head down to meet Jacob with butterflies in my stomach.
I still can’t get over how cool his house is, though.
The stone walls. The paintings. The huge staircase and the thick, luxury carpet that feels like I’m walking on sunshine.
It’s like I’ve woken up and found myself in a fairy tale.
I wouldn’t be surprised to see a whole bunch of men walk by wearing body armor and carrying swords.
I bet the views are amazing in the summer. Rolling English countryside for as far as the eye can see.
“Ah-ha!” Jacob stands up from his chair and welcomes me into the dining room. He looks at his watch. “Exactly on time,” he notes.
“Yeah, well, the traffic was crazy, but I know a shortcut.”
He nods his head. My cheeks burn like they’re covered in flames.
Why the heck am I making lame jokes?
I’m supposed to be trying out for a high-paying job. Here I am cracking funnies like I’m a two-bit comedian who can’t read the room.
“I trust you found everything to your liking?”
He pulls the chair out from the table and I sit down. He hovers by my side for a second. I can smell his scent. Musky and wild with a hint of burned wood. A manly smell. One I want to roll around in without any clothes on.
“Everything’s perfect,” I say.
The table’s covered in those funny silver plate things with the covers on them. There must be a dozen or more different dishes hiding under them. Usually, I just grab some takeout on the way home. I'm not used to this kind of fancy schmancy diner. There's so many forks on the table, just looking at them gives me anxiety.
"A drink for the lady?" Jacob takes a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket and pops the cork. I jump so high I'm surprised I don't break the magnificent chandelier dangling above my head.
My nerves are all over the place. I take a few deep breaths and try to calm myself.
He pours us both a glass of the delicious, bubbly wine, and then raises his glass in the air.
“To you,” he says. “And our future together.”
“Our future,” I say, awkwardly.
He hasn’t even heard my decision yet, and already he’s talking as if I’m going to get the job.
Maybe he knows something I don’t.
I take a sip and then put the glass back on the table. The last thing I want to do is get drunk and make a fool out of myself.
Jacob sits down across the table from me. His smile makes my heart beat faster. Suddenly, I’m incredibly aware of how damp my hands are. The urge to check my armpits is almost unbearable. I can’t even remember if I put any deodorant on. My thoughts are such a jumble when I look at him. How in the heck am I supposed to work in his company if this is the kind of effect he has on me?
I’ll never be able to get anything done if I carry on like this.
But, as I look into his jade green eyes, the answer to the decision I’ve been trying to make all day pops into my head.
