Page 4 of Billionaire Babysitter

I try one more time to get through to him but again there’s no answer. What the hell is going on? Through the window in the door, I can see the investors murmuring amongst themselves as if they’re about to get up and leave. This is about to turn into a massive disaster. I send Lucas a very angry text, and then, plastering on my biggest, fakest smile, I head back into the meeting room.

“Hello everyone,” I say. I give them my best smile, which I guess mustn’t be very good, because none of them smile back at me. “I’m sure Mr. Adler will be with us momentarily. In the meantime, can I get anyone coffee? Tea? Anything stronger?” Fortunately, the joke lands, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief. At least these guys seem to have a little sense of humor. I wish I had something stronger myself right now. It might make all of this bearable.

All of the businessmen shake their heads politely at the offer of snacks or drinks, and I grimace. I was kind of hoping they would all want something so that I could waste some more time.There’s only so much more stalling I can do.

I will not panic, though. Even if I have to do this alone, I know this plan just as well as Lucas does, if not better. After all, I wasthe one who wrote all the documentation, the presentation, the outline, the proposal. This might have been his idea to begin with, but if he had had to do any of this himself… well, I don’t think it would be working half as good as it is.

“Well, then,” I say, “should we get started?”

“Excuse me, miss, but shouldn’t Mr. Adler be here?” asks one of the suited men, managing to balance patronizing, dismissive, and bored neatly into one sentence.

I don’t let my smile waver. “Unfortunately, he’s been unavoidably held up for the time being. But I assure you, I have every authority to speak for him, and I will pass on a detailed set of minutes with any questions, comments, or concerns you might have.”

That seems to pacify him — or at least he doesn’t have anything else to say. I don’t really care which is true. I just want them to stop giving me that look of suspicion and doubt. Sowhatif I’m not a business PhD with millions in a trust fund? Qualifications and money aren’t everything.

There don’t seem to be any further complaints, so I walk to the wall and dim the lights. With as much confidence as I can muster, I make my way back over to the computer and load my presentation up. If I do say so myself, I’ve done an excellent job of making it seem professional.

I flick to the first slide. Several facts and figures fill the screen. “As you can see, our proposal means that all sides will have an excellent investment.”

To my relief, several of the businessmen nod at the proposal. I continue, talking them through each of my slides. Some of them open my packet of information so that they can follow along withwhat I’m saying. Maybe they think the facts won’t line up, but despite my sleepless state last night, I made sure everything was perfect. That’s the way Mr. Adler likes it.

As I move to a new slide, one of the businessmen puts his hand up, the one with the flawlessly trimmed beard and piercing green eyes. I nod to indicate I’m willing to listen to his question. “So, miss, you have Mr. Adler’s full trust?”

“Yes.”

“And he trusts a young woman like you to make business investments for him?”

I narrow my eyes suspiciously. What century does this guy live in?

“I understand your concern,” I say mustering my very best business voice, one that’s clear and firm and assured. “But I’ve worked hard with Mr. Adler to create this investment portfolio, and as his assistant I am fully capable of speaking on his behalf and am familiar with all of the finer details of this proposal.”

“It’s impressive that his secretary has such a good grasp of the situation.” He’s goading me, but I refuse to let those cold green eyes get the better of me.

I smile pleasantly again. “Well, if I can move on?” I glance around the room, puffing myself up to make myself look as big as possible. If other businessmen can use intimidation tactics to win contracts, so can I. “All right, then. So, my final slide.” I click the mouse to open the final slide.

Thank goodness this is nearly over. My hands are shaking and sweating, and I think I might be about to vomit. Not that nausea never stopped me from going to work before.

“It’s a sad fact that in this day and age manufacturing is on the way downhill. And that’s why we need manufacturers we know we can trust. There are so many scam artists in the market these days that it’s hard to know who is really going to deliver us the very best quality and production. However, we really believe that investing in us would bring significant gain for both our companies. As you have the best track record of any manufacturers out there at the minute, and we have an excellent reputation ourselves, I would be delighted to accept your investment pledge this afternoon.”

The businessmen murmur amongst themselves for a moment. If I hadn’t already eaten three granola bars while the printer did its work, I think I genuinely might be about to pass out. Instead, I hold my ground.

What’s really helping all this is imagining stabbing Lucas Adler to death repeatedly. I can’t believe he hasn’t shown up! I know I’ve said that a hundred times in my head already today, but it’s still true. He might be an arrogant asshole, but he’s dedicated to his work. That’s what makes him the best. That’s what makes us such a successful company.

And yet he ditched me and threw me to the wolves. This is going to be hard to forgive.

The murmuring slows to silence, and finally the oldest, wrinkliest businessman smiles at me and says, “We must say we are very impressed with your presentation today. If it’s all right with you, we’d like to go away and discuss it with our colleagues. However, we assure you we will be in touch very shortly. We would also really like to speak to Mr. Adler before we commit to any decisions.”

That sentence feels incredibly pointed. I try my best not to flinch or react. “Of course,” I say. “I’d be happy to pass on any comments you may have, and I have included a contact email address at the end of the information docket. Please feel free to use it, and I will make sure that every question and complaint is responded to by him personally.”

The businessmen nod appreciatively and get to their feet. Each of them shakes my hand and I feel faintly embarrassed that my hands are clammy and damp from fear and rage and every other emotion swimming inside me right now. Mostly rage, though. I fully believe in my capabilities as a presenter and as a fake businesswoman, but Lucas should have been here to lead. That’s the whole point of him. I’m the workhorse. He’s the boss.

I watch them all file out of the room, forcing the smile to stay on my face, but as soon as the door shuts behind the last man, I slump down into the nearest seat and cradle my head in my hands. This was so nearly a disaster.

I pull out my phone, hoping to see a notification from Lucas. Nothing. I find his contact and call him again. Still, straight to voicemail.

A cold rush of fear shoots through my veins. What if something really terrible has happened and I’m sitting here furious with him and it’s not his fault? I’d feel really bad if it was something beyond his control and I’ve been cursing him out all morning.

And that’s when I make the possibly ill-advised decision to go to his house and make sure everything’s okay.

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