Page 12 of Recruited By the Billionaire

But less than a year after Devin’s death and to add insult to injury, she was “let go” from her supervisory position at Druce-McMillan when she got tired of Britney’s bullshit and fired her on the spot. It was a legitimate fire. Britney had cursed out one of the writers she was assigned to work with, calling the woman every bitch and hoe and every other name in between, but the brass didn’t see it her way. She should have worked with the young Britney and taught her a better path, they said. Frankie said bullshit.

She tried for months to get another job in publishing, but Britney’s rich daddy was vindictive as hell and blackballed her as if he had made it his life mission to never see her work in the industry again. And it worked. Nobody would hire her. Not in New York, not in California, not even in any of the mid-list publishing houses in between. They didn’t want the “toxicity,” as one of the managing directors told her. As if she was the toxic one.

Her phone rang through Bluetooth and she looked at her car screen. When she saw that it was Royce, she answered with a smile. “Hey girl!”

“Where you at?”

“Behind the preposition at.”

Royce laughed. “You know what I mean!”

“On my way to work.”

“Shouldn’t you have been there by now?”

“I’ve still got,” she looked at the clock. Then her face showed her concern. “Oh Lord.”

“How long you got?”

“Eighteen minutes.”

“How far out are you still?”

“Twenty minutes. But I’ll make it up,” Frankie said as she turned down a side street to sidestep the bumper-to-bumper traffic.

Royce laughed. “You’re still on probation, Frankie, and already messing up. Taymar work in HR for that company. She was able to get you through that door. She helped you get that job. But she can’t help you keep it.”

Frankie knew that was the truth. Taymar, who worked in the front office for the New York Giants, left New York after that motel debacle and landed a job in Human Resources with the NFL expansion Pensacola Admirals football team. As soon as she found out Frankie had been fired and was blackballed in the publishing industry, she pulled strings to get her in as assistant to the Vice President in the recruiting office.

But Frankie wasn’t sure if she could start a new career. And it meant she had to leave New York. It meant she had to relocate all the way to Pensacola, Florida to work for a team that would be in the same division as her beloved Giants. But as the months piled on top of each other and her savings were exhausted because she and Devin signed a prenup and she had zero income coming in, and because Devin’s will left everything to his mother, including his sizeable insurance policy, she knew she had to act. And after two years of absolutely nothing working out for her, she decided to take the plunge. And she was glad she did.

“Still loving it?” Royce asked her.

“Actually I am. Even more than I thought I would. It’s nowhere near the kind of money I made at Druce-McMillan, but it pays the bills. And after the year I had, and after exhausting my savings accountandmy 401K, that’s good enough for me.”

“I hear you girl. But for real though: How you holding up?”

Frankie began nodding. “I’m good. I got over Devin’s shady ass faster than I got over Victoria’s death.” Victoria was the name she gave to her unborn child.

“I would have gotten over his ass too after he left everything to his mean-ass mama. And she wouldn’t even give you, his widow, a dime. It’s a shame.”

“She blamed me for his death,” said Frankie. “But you know what? God is awesome. He helped me land on my feet. I always loved pro football, you know that, and to be working for a new team with all of their energy and enthusiasm has turned out to be really exciting. Makes me feel like a kid again.”

“Your ass is a kid!” declared Royce. “You’re only thirty-eight.”

Frankie laughed. “Remember when that used to be so old to us? Now fifty seems young.”

Royce laughed too. “And when we turn fifty, seventy will seem young.”

“You know it girl! So what are you up to?”

“Another fashion show, which means they got me working twenty-four-seven as if my entire existence is that job. I called in sick. I’m too tired to go into that mad house today.”

Royce remained in New York working in the fashion industry, but Frankie and Taymar were laying bets she’d join them in Florida soon.

“At least your boss is smoking hot,” said Royce. “Unlike mine.”

Frankie found that an odd statement to make, especially coming from man-obsessed Royce. “Hot? You think Laine Peters is hot? Girl, you trying to tell me something?”

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