Page 35 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

I scarfed down a bowl full of fruit and yogurt for breakfast while listening to relaxing music, something I believed I needed more of (especially around my new boss). Jesus was I jittery. I’d called Jay earlier, my cab-driving friend, and I still had time, so I allowed myself a second helping.

Just as I was putting the bowl and spoon in the sink, I heard the car’s honk. Perfect timing.

It was raining only a little as I closed the front door behind me. With my red umbrella covering me, I ran down toward the street where my cab was waiting for me.

Jay was staring at me out of the waiting car’s window.

“Jay,” I exclaimed as I opened the cab’s back seat door and slid in. I held the umbrella out and opened and closed it a few times to get rid of as much moisture as possible. “You have no idea how glad I am to see your friendly face,” I said. “Guess where we’re going today?”

“Not a clue, love… I can tell it’s somewhere exciting though,” he said.He winked at me in the rearview mirror, and I knew he was just playing dumb so as not to spoil my fun. He was such a nice guy!

“We’re going to the same address as last time—the one on Third Avenue. I got the job!”

“Yeah, baby! Ah, that’s bloody brilliant news. Nice one!” Jay turned the cab’s fuzzy steering wheel and merged with the traffic already flowing in Manhattan’s direction. “The offices in that part of town are pretty bloody fancy. You must be one hell of a professional.”

“Me? No.” I giggled. “Not yet, anyway. I hope I’ll be a ‘hell of a professional’ someday. For now, I’ll just be the CEO’s assistant.”

“The CEO’s assistant, la-di-dah. Don’t do yourself down,” he said, smiling at me. “That’s a proper fancy job. I’ll count myself honored to have a pal who works on Third Avenue.”

“And I count myself lucky to have a friend with a cab,” I joked, “or else I wouldn’t even be able to get to my fancy job on Third Avenue.”

“Well, that’s true.” Jay smiled from cheek to cheek. “I guess we’ve all got our own role to play in life… Just hope we don’t get stuck in traffic this time.”

I dreaded seeing another accident or a line of traffic as we crossed Manhattan Bridge, but I’d been dealt a good hand that day, and there was no more traffic than there would be during any normal morning commute in New York City.

“Fuck’s sake, mate, have you lost the plot?” Jay tapped his horn when a black Lamborghini raced past us doing around two hundred. What a douche! He blared his horn, and without thinking, I raised my hand, giving him the bird. Honestly, I didn’t even know what got into me. I never flipped people off. Jay laughed when the guy shot past us. “That car, though…instantboner.” We kept the joke rolling, making fun of douchey sports car drivers, and then Jay spent the drive talking about a game the New York Mets had recently played against the Mariners. He admitted to being a San Francisco Giants fan. I wouldn’t hold it against him—andnotbecause that was where Ace used to live before he moved back to NYC.

The cab cut through the now-near-torrential rain like a bright-yellow arrow through a thick mist. I was glad I had packed my silk scarf in my handbag, just in case my coat and umbrella didn’t manage to keep me from getting wet. We passed by a lovely French bakery and a small boutique with a cute sunflower dress in the window. It wasn’t long before we came to a stop.

“Wow.” Jay’s mouth was open as he stared through the window, the wipers now running at full speed. “That is not just a fancy building. That is what I call a sick AF big-shot tower. Someone’s clearly compensating for something. I mean, what I can see of it through the rain, anyway.”

Laughing, I scanned the base of the imposing building that would be my new workplace. Through the rain, it seemed even farther away from the curb than usual. “I guess this is it. Wish me luck,” I said as I opened the cab’s door, while releasing the umbrella that immediately flipped inside out due to the wind.

“Good luck! Rob them of their senses,” he shouted as I jogged toward the building’s entrance, not bothering with the umbrella, instead holding my handbag above my head.

With my heart nearly beating out of my chest, I pushed open the heavy double doors far more urgently than I had the first time around, causing them to swing wide open with abang. I basically fled inside and immediately soaked the marble. Water dripped down my umbrella and handbag, creating puddles of rain on the floor.

The receptionist glared at me over her half-moon glasses, scanning me from head to toe and landing on my stilettos.

Glancing down at myself, I realized that my coat had done its duty. My white blouse had turned somewhat transparent, but luckily not to the extent of any concern. Still, I was grateful to have packed my silk scarf, and I quickly retrieved it from my overly full handbag, ensuring that nobody would notice the outline of my white bra peeking through my blouse. And by nobody, I meant specifically Ace. No way was I reliving any white wet garment memories.

“So, you’re on time today?” the receptionist taunted, her voice chilly. I glanced at my watch. It was 6:45 a.m. Perfect. She adjusted her glasses before she addressed me again. “I heard you got the job, so I guess an introduction is in order. I’m Glenda. Glenda Meeks. I was the one who phoned to invite you to your interview.” She rose to her feet and stuck out her hand, waiting for me to take it.

So she wasn’t left standing awkwardly with an outstretched arm, I hurried to close the distance between us.

“Hey, Glenda.” I politely took her hand and shook it. “I’m excited to be here—and to have made it in time, despite the storm. Perfect Monday weather, isn’t it?” I said jokingly, trying to break the ice. Clearly, she didn’t appreciate my humor by the way in which she just stared at me.Ohh-kay.Trying to not let her bring me down and keep the situation both friendly and professional, I added, “We’re going to have a nice time working together.”

“Talkative, aren’t you?” Glenda asked and sat back down, adjusting her minty leather skirt. “You’ll need to learn to dial that down if you’re going to be working successfully under Mr. Windsor. He doesn’t like small talk. In fact, he doesn’t like blabbermouths. With him, it’s ‘speak when spoken to.’ You know what I mean?”

“Not really,” I said meekly. “He seemed nice during my interview, and I don’t think he minds. Although I’m sure he’ll tell me if he does.”

“I’m sure he will. Anyway, I like a double-double with oat milk, just so you know in case you ever want to make a coffee run.”

She’d get straight black, burnt coffee from me, with a shit-eating grin.Biatch.

“All right,” she continued, “Mr. Windsor is already waiting for you in the big conference room, 7th floor, down the hallway to your left. He’s kind enough to spend a few of his precious minutes personally orienting you on your first day.” She briefly pointed to the elevator and then started typing away at the keyboard behind her computer screen. “Enjoy orientation.” She didn’t look up at me again.

“Thank you, I appreciate your help,” I said, choosing to be friendly despite Glenda’s bluntness, and let’s be frank, snide and overbearing attitude.

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