Page 7 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

They still stared at me. Ace gave me an “Oh,really, she doesn’t look like that anymore?” look.

“She never looked like that,” I corrected. “That was a failed attempt to look like an enchanting Jack-o-lantern.”

All three of them stared at me.

Miles was the first to speak up. “No need to apologize, bro.” He hiccupped and reached for his lager, only to realize it was empty. “Chill, bro. She’s your sister, and we’re cool with her. Never saw you hide your phone like that though. It’s not like any of us are invested in her looks. Chill.”

“Don’t tell me to chill,” I bit out. “Iamfucking chill.”

“How’s she doing these days?” Ace asked.

“She just graduated from Princeton, actually,” I said, glad for the change of subject. Despite my irritation, I couldn’t hide the sense of pride welling up in my chest when I noted their appreciative nods. It was still hard for me to believe my sister had graduated. The guys raised their glasses (including Miles and Oliver with their empty ones) in excessive congratulatory gestures, clearly trying to make up for the earlier awkwardness.

“Good for her,” Ace said. “And what degree?”

“Architecture.”

“Really?” Miles said. “Architecture? Cool.”

“Yeah. She’s been applying for junior architect vacancies, but she hasn’t had any luck so far.”

“That’s too bad. Junior architect, you say?” Oliver asked.

“Yeah. She’s currently keeping herself busy with an unpaid internship at a smaller engineering firm, but not sure if she’s really enjoying it. She spends her days assisting the CEO’s assistant, helping with the calls, keeping things organized and prepared. She’s good at it too, but she told me it isn’t what she’s passionate about. Anyway, her internship is almost over.”

“If you ask me, she needs to get a foot in the door at anarchitecturefirm,” Miles suggested with a drunken smirk and nudged Oliver with his elbow.

Oliver returned the gesture, leaned in, and said in a conspiratorial tone, “Hey, don’t we know a poor SOB with an architecture firm who just lost his assistant in a truly tragic accident?” He jerked his head in Ace’s direction and winked at me.

3

ACE

Fuck me. The first word that had popped into my head when the photo of Stella had flashed across Damon’s cell was “nerd.”

She couldn’t have been much older than nineteen or twenty when the picture had been taken, and she radiated anunprecedentedlevel of geekiness.

Those dorky glasses.

Those braces.

And those eyebrows, almost unibrows. Jesus Christ.

No wonder the guys didn’t recognize her. Hell—Ibarely recognized her. She looked different, and not the good kind of different. Although it wasn’t hard to tell she still had a curvy figure under her homemade pumpkin costume. Her hair was different too. It used to be mousy brown, but in the photo, it hung all over the place in weird orangey-colored ringlets. It looked frizzier than ever before.

The last time I’d seen Stella, she had just turned eighteen, and it’d been a hot afternoon in July. I was at the Copelands’ home, hanging out with the guys. I was twenty-six at the time and busy wrapping up the last year of my Architecture Experience Program to become a licensed architect. Back then, I didn’t think of much, except how much money I’d make—ready to grab life by its horns and pull off the grand plans I had for my new career.

I hadn’t been wrong either—I had made a lot of money.

And a lot of mistakes.

Actually, a substantial number of mistakes. Some would even say a shit-ton. Not that it was uncommon for a startup.You fly the plane as you’re building it.

Anyway, that day, I was sitting around the pool with Damon, Oliver, and Miles. We were all lounging around in our swimming trunks, having a couple of beers, and discussing what we thought our lives would be like.

We were dangling our feet into the pool’s cool water when Stella came stumbling out onto the deck.

I barely recognized her.

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