Page 29 of Working For A Billionaire

Her stare unnerves me, making my pulse race faster. I don't know why this woman makes me so uncomfortable.

Finally, she let out a heavy sigh. "Listen, Riley," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Let me just get one thing straight before we start. Harrison's reputation is a big deal. It's how people decide if they can trust him with their money. If it looks like he can't even manage his own life, how can people trust him with their money?" She pauses, letting her last words hang in the air.

I swallow hard, hoping my nerves aren't showing. I don't want to give Harrison any trouble. And she does have a point—his reputation is very important. If people decide not to trust him, he'll lose a lot of business. That might be worse than giving them money.

"But—" I begin, as she holds up her hand, silencing me. She takes a deep breath and continues, "If you want to be part of the family, I suggest you stay quiet and listen to everything I have to say. All right?"

I nod because there is nothing else to do.

"First things first," she begins briskly. "We're going to talk about your career." At my confused glance, she clarifies, "Your future, Riley. What sort of employment do you want?"

"Um, I'm not sure," I answer sheepishly as I try to stop myself from fidgeting. Why can't I sit still? I keep looking around hoping someone might come barging in on us, or Harrison would show up any second. I'm so nervous that I feel as if I'm going to throw up.

"That's understandable. You may have to think a little harder on this one," she advises, leaning forward, her hands clasped together. I notice her fingers are long and slim. She looks professional enough to pass as a doctor or therapist, but her demeanor gives me the impression that she's more interested in being intimidating than anything else.

I don't understand why.

"Um, okay," I mumble uncertainty, shifting in my seat again. The conversation seems to be going in circles. I want to get up and leave, but my legs feel weak, and I don't dare move from my spot on the couch.

She continues to stare at me, waiting. I'm starting to wonder if she has something against pregnant women, or maybe just me.

My palms are sweaty, and I can feel my heart pounding. This woman is making me anxious.

"Have you chosen a nanny yet?" she finally asks. When I shake my head, she continues, "Do you have any experience taking care of children?" I shake my head again, stunned by her questions. "And you've never been married?" Another shake of my head.

This goes on for five minutes or more. By now my back aches and my muscles are tense. How is she still questioning me? Is she going to make me spend the rest of my life answering these questions? I start to feel annoyed, and I cross my arms over my chest.

After the fifth question, I feel like I am suffocating. "Can we please stop?" I plead. "I don't like being interrogated like this." I stand up from the couch abruptly.

She raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"I said, I don't like this." I pause. "Am I being interviewed for the position of mother to my son?"

She frowns. "No."

"Then what are we talking about?" I raise my voice, allowing myself the privilege of growing angry in front of this woman. "Why are you asking all these questions? Are you worried I won’t do a good job?" I snap.

"Frankly, yes. That's exactly what I was afraid of. I don't want to take any chances. So, I need to know if you're capable of doing this."

"Of course, I am," I reply, fuming as we glare at one another, like children on a playground. "I may not know everything, but I doubt you knew everything when you became a mother. It doesn't mean that I can't learn what I need to. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for my son."

"That is why choosing the right nanny is important," she states, unmoved by what I just said, then adds "I will find a suitable one for you if you don't have the time."

"I appreciate the offer," I reply, biting back the anger growing inside me, "but we can find one on our own." This is a good time to remind her that there’s two of us who will be doing this. Not just me.

She looks me over one final time before she stands up to leave. "I must be going now. I will check in again soon."

Before I have a chance to speak, she is gone, and I feel my body relax. Jasper enters the room, giving me a sympathetic look as he hands me a glass of tea.

"That went better than we expected," he says reassuringly.

"What were you expecting?" I ask in confusion.

"When Mrs. Rutherford is around, I always half expect for a fire to break out so I’m always ready with the fire extinguisher," he whispers with a mischievous grin.

I laugh at the thought and shake my head as he walks away.

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