Page 20 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

“No problem, sweet cheeks,” he countered with a surprisingly good but still wonky US accent, before he slipped back into his usual gentle Cockney twang. “Big meeting today? You look a bit on edge… Not gonna rob them, are ya?”

“Me?Maybe. Rob their senses that is,” I corrected, chuckling at the suggestion and my own joke. “I’m just going to an interview.”

“‘Just an interview?’ Nice one. It’s your lucky day already then, innit? Never enough jobs in this bloody city. Zeke always says that, and he’s bloody right.”

“He’s bloody right,” I agreed, “but I’m about to get one.”

“Yeah, you bloody are! Any music requests for the drive there, love?” He tapped at a pair of mini disco balls dangling from his rearview mirror. “Gift from Zeke.” They cast glistening specks of light that zipped across the car’s outdated interior like shooting stars through the night sky.

“Nope. Actually, I liked what you were playing when I got in. You can turn that back up again, please.”

Jay smiled and nodded, adjusting the volume. “Excellent choice. Nice reminder of my honeymoon—me and Zeke wandering round Mumbai, that gorgeous Konkan Coast. Seems like longer than a month ago…” He pulled away from the curb and joined the rest of the traffic rushing toward New York’s heart, subtly swearing and tapping on the horn at a female driver in a sports car who cut him offandwho also proceeded to give Jay the bird. That was actually so funny to me that I had to hide my grin behind my hand, as Jay mumbled, “Yeah, yeah, same to you, daft cow. Some people don’t belong on the road.”

“They say that men are the worse drivers of the two genders though.”

“You’re ’avin a laugh! Bloody ridiculous, that is. Anyway…”—with his chin, he gestured to the player of the car—“So this tune here is a Hindu folk song about a troll who falls in love with a handsome priest. She tries to seduce him, but he’s not having it. It’s quite the story.”

“Sounds like it,” I said and listened intently. “Tell me—did the troll wear a beige dress?”

“A beige dress? Nah. Why? Reckon that might have worked?”

“Well, it better!”

He looked at me, and his eyes fell to my beige dress, and we both grinned. Jay started to spout off more stories about his honeymoon trip and the exotic food he and Zeke had eaten as I listened to the soothing music, with my head resting against the cab’s window. Jay would never know how much I appreciated his attempt at distracting me.

The city rushed by like a Hollywood-style montage of sounds and colors, and it wasn’t long before we crossed Manhattan Bridge. The digital clock in the cab’s center console read 10:11 a.m.

“Should be there in just under twenty minutes,” Jay announced, smiling back at me through the rearview mirror.

“That should leave me with more than enough time to get to the reception desk and calm down a bit—you know, before the execution,” I said, evoking a chuckle from Jay.

“Nah, nah, nah, no talk like that. You are gonna smash this. Got pepper spray and a taser in the boot though, y’know…just in case…”

“Sounds great. I should keep a taser in my handbag in case my future boss tries something funny.” Chuckling, I wrung my sweaty hands together as we reached the end of the bridge. Despite Jay’s jokes, I could feel myself growing more and more anxious as we moved closer to my destination.

We had just crossed over onto East Broadway Street, heading past Chinatown, when I saw it.Traffic was jamming up, and we were slowing down, slowing until we were traveling no faster than your average tortoise.

“Oh, fuckin’ ’ell, mate,” Jay exclaimed. “Move it, you muppet!”

When I craned my neck, I could see what had happened over the roofs of the cars in front of us: a multi-lane accident obstructing one, two, three lanes. A huge food truck lay horizontally with hundreds of crates sprawled out across three lanes, with what looked like red and green apples rolling around everywhere, and a yellow convertible with its fold-down roof steaming against a tree trunk on the other side of the sidewalk. Two guys—the drivers I assumed—stood nearby, arguing loudly. Luckily, nobody seemed seriously injured.

I heard the low whine of an approaching police siren somewhere in the back. “How did that happen?” I asked, turning my head just in time to see it navigating its way through the rows of stationary cars.

“Well, I can tell you how—they’re complete bloody pillocks, that’s what the problem is. Look how mangled all that fruit is. I think you’re going to need to call that lot you’re supposed to be meeting. This shit can take forever to clean up—could be waiting here bloody ages.”

“Oh, dang,” I replied. “I’m supposed to be there no later than eleven. I can’t show up late for a job interview. They’ll never take me seriously.”

For a moment, I just stared at Jay through his rearview mirror, trying not to panic.

“Well, I don’t think you’ve got a lot of choice.” He shrugged. “Sorry love, unfortunately not within my powers to magic all this crap away. Bloody wish it was…”

He was right, of course. There was just no way we could get there in time, and I started to search for my cell. “Dang, dang, dang. I need this job.” The words had barely left my lips when I saw a flash of white in my peripheral vision. It was as if time itself slowed down to give me a moment to concoct a plan. A pizza delivery guy was zooming through traffic on a dirty white scooter, unfettered by the growing flock of cars. He was headed straight toward us. Without thinking twice, I whipped open the cab door and got out.

“Jesus Christ—what are you doing?” Jay’s eyes widened as he realized what I was planning.

“Hey! Hey there! Please stop,” I screamed and waved at the scooter.

Jay joined me. He got out of the cab and waved one of his hairy arms to get the delivery driver’s attention. “Stop! Oi, over here, mate!Stop!”

---