Page 1 of Billionaire's Baby Mistake

Zaya

Thedayhasfinallyarrived, the one I’ve been planning for lord knows how long - the day my ultimate plan starts. I am to interview for a position as the head of PR and marketing for International Pharma Co., and I absolutelyhaveto get it. There isn’t a choice, and if I don’t get it or I manage to fuck it up, it will screw up everything. That just can’t happen. Everything depends upon it.

International Pharma Co. should be Dad’s company since he helped cofound it. He really should be there now, helping it grow. It isn’t fair that he got pushed out due to some stupid, petty argument over a woman, which I personally have never been able to let go of. I’ve always planned to step up and take things into my own hands as soon as I could, and now the day has finally arrived. I can make sure everything is done right.

I check my reflection in the mirror, smoothing down my long silky blonde hair once more. I’m dressed professionally in a smart blouse and pencil skirt - pretty provocative and sexy too - just to ensure I get the job. I’ve heard that Peter Bryson, the man who pushed my dad out of the business has a son, Alex, who now runs the place. That the guy is something of a playboy asshole, the sort who will do anything for a long-legged beauty, which is why I have my shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of cleavage. Nevertheless, I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to win the position, even if it means smiling at the enemy.

“Right, Zaya,” I mutter to my reflection. “Get in there and kill it.” I have the right qualifications and just about enough work experience to be considered for the job. All I need is to ensure I survive and succeed in the interview.

It’s taken me so long to get to a place where I can do this because the right job had to come up at the perfect moment. I am prepared for it. To say that International Pharma Co. is tough to get into is an understatement. It’s damn near impossible, but everyone in the science industry wants to because it’s so innovative and one of those special jobs that sets you up for life. Having International Pharma Co. on your resume is a guarantee that something else will come along later. Not that I’m focusing on that right now. I know what I’m here for and what I need to do. Nothing can get in my way.

I put in a call to my dad at the last second, needing his advice before I go for the interview. He knows this workplace and what it takes to be chosen. I need his reassurance that I can do it. I have confidence in myself… mostly, but a little kicker should help too.

“Hello?” he answers, warily. It took me a while to get him on board with my revenge plan, but the more I talked about it, the more I made him see that it was the only way and the happier he became. I think he’s just worried that I’m going to put myself in the line of fire in the process. However, these worries will soon fade away.

“Are you okay, Zaya?”

“I’m just getting ready for my interview,” I tell him, glancing into my deep ocean-colored eyes once more, trying to rid my expression of worry. “Do you have any advice for me?”

“Look, you know that I don’t want you to do this, but if you insist, just focus on getting the formula that Peter left behind before he died. You don’t really need to worry about the job. As long as I can derail the company, that’s all I need to focus on. Get in the office and snatch the formula, then everything else will fall into place.”

“No, you know the plan, Dad. Stop acting crazy. I was hoping you could give me tips on how to behave. What do you think will help me get the job?”

“I don’t know…be yourself,” he replies with a sigh. “I’m sure that Alex will adore you… just not too much, I hope.”

“I’ll call you later,” I roll my eyes, slightly annoyed that he is offering nothing, but understanding all the same. The further this goes, the easier it will become for me. If he’s worried that I’m about to fall for the charms of some idiotic playboy, then he’s got another think coming. I’m an intelligent woman, not the sort of bimbo I’m sure Alex is used to. I’ll be fine; resisting will come easy. That’ll be the easy part! “Bye.”

As I drive my car along the road, I recall everything that has led to this moment to fire myself up and get going. Unfortunately, Mom died in childbirth, so I never got to know her; but I’ve always heard that she was a wonderful woman with a kind heart. Dad had to raise me alone, and because of that, I’ve always adored him and looked up to him like he was the best person alive. When I eventually asked him why he’s only a high school teacher when he’s so intelligent, I opened a can of worms. The whole story about International Pharma Co. came out, and the start of my revenge plan was inaugurated.

I’ve always wanted to make his life better and happier like he always did mine, and I’ve worked for that ever since. I needed to tailor the plan around my skillset and we’re here at last.

My rage is at peak level when my car pulls up outside the very white, pristine, glass building. Dad is a good man; he didn’t deserve any of what happened to him, and now I’m going to ensure that his work wasn’t in vain.

I slip on my heels and strut confidently into the reception area, acting as if I belong, knowing that I must fake it until I make it. I have to act as the most confident and intelligent person in the room to make others believe it. Luckily, I have such great shoes on; they clack loudly on the floor, creating such a noise that everyone turns to look. I hold my head high, push my shoulders back, and glance around to drink everything in.

All of this… it should be in my family… it isn’t fair that it was taken away.

I hate that Dad lost out on everything he worked for and had lost my mother too. Sure, he always had me, but that would never be enough, not for anyone. Whoever this woman is, the one that the fight was over… well, I know she can’t have been worth it,

“My name is Zaya Webber,” I tell the receptionist, using my mother’s maiden name so no one can track me back to Dad. He might have been written out of the history of the place, but it wouldn’t take someone long to find out about our connection if they looked hard enough. “I’m here for the PR position.”

She shakes her shiny head and indicates a seating area, where a selection of professional looking men and women are patiently waiting. My heart starts to pound in anticipation, but I don’t allow the nerves to creep in. It doesn’t matter how good the others are. I need to be better. I might even need to go further than I originally planned to get the job, but I’ll do it. Now that I’m inside, I’m even more determined to see this plan through. I strongly feel that International Pharma Co. has a policy where they only let you in once. I can’t imagine that they allow two interviews.

Just do this…I warn myself.Whatever you need to do, get it done.

The interviewing process is intense, worse than I ever thought - definitely harder than anything I’ve ever been through before, leaving me emotionally fragile as the end of the day arrives. Not only was I interviewed by many people on particular aspects of my knowledge, qualifications, and experience, but I also had to complete tasks to prove that I can do the job. It started with a simple press release but ended up on explaining an entire public relations campaign for a new pharmaceutical launch.

It was crazy and utterly exhausting. I’m starting to fear that I might not be able to do it after all. I’m still standing, whereas many people have been sent home. However, I’m still not sure I have what it takes. A lot of the candidates are much more qualified.

“Okay,” the receptionist smiles at us in turn. “Now, it’s just the last part of the interview process. First, the boss, who I’m sure you all know, Alex Bryson, would like to speak to you all.”

This is it,I think to myself, my heart racing with excitement.This is my moment. I have to shine; it’s essential.But as I look around at the women left over, I still don’t know if I have it in me. They are all stunning, probably more overtly sexy, and I’m scared that this idiot and his wandering eye will pick one of them over me. Truth be told. I don’t even know if the men stand a chance.

“So, if you want to sit, he will be out shortly.”

We sit in silence, making no eye contact, as we wait for an agonizing time for him to arrive. Finally, I get the impression that he’s trying to make an entrance and intimidate us even further, which is confirmed as we hear the distinct sound of a helicopter above us.

“Is that him?” one of the girls hisses in shock. “Is he serious? He’s come on a helicopter; that’s… crazy!”

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