Page 10 of Her Billionaire Bossholes

Debbie looks visibly pleased with my response, and Jackson nods in agreement. "Excellent. Debbie can show you to your room after our meeting concludes."

"Yes," she confirms, "and I'll arrange for a moving truck to accompany you. Let's talk about salary."

My ears perk at the sound of that.

Debbie pulls out a salary sheet from her laptop, and I can feel my eyes widening with each word that escapes her mouth.

"As initially stated," she begins, "we are offering you an annual salary of fifty-thousand dollars, which should be more than enough to allow you to live comfortably at no cost while working here."

My eyes widen with surprise -- I hadn't expected that my pay would cover money already spent on living expenses. This is certainly more than generous! But before I can say anything else, Caleb speaks up from across the table.

“The number can always go up once we have an initial trial period so we can ensure that everything is working out well for you here," he says earnestly with a knowing look toward Debbie, who nods.

As the meeting continues, my mind wanders to what the residence building will look like. Will it be cramped? Will I have any privacy? And more importantly, how will I be able to... take care of myself with three men in the other room?

10

CHARLIE

"Thanks," I say to the last mover as he drops the box in the center of my new bedroom.

He grins at me, clearly eyeing my breasts as he does. "No problem. Let me know if you need anything else."

I quickly sidestep him. "I'm good. You can go," I assert, opening the door wider than it already is, silently urging him to exit.

Reluctantly, he takes the hint, casting one final lingering glance before finally heading out. I breathe a sigh of relief and take a moment to survey the room. Soft evening sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow over the space. The walls are painted a calming shade of light blue, invoking a sense of tranquility. The furniture is modern and sleek, featuring clean lines and a minimalist aesthetic. It's clear that attention has been paid to creating a comfortable and functional living space.

I walk over to the window, drawn to the view outside. From here, I can catch glimpses of the lush greenery surrounding the facility.

"Knock, knock," calls a husky voice from behind me.

I spin around, startled, and find Caleb leaning against the doorframe. His jacket is gone, and the sleeves of his button-up have been rolled to reveal his... impressive forearms.

"Oh. Mr. Carter," I force my eyes up to his. "What can I do for you?"

Caleb steps further into the room, his eyes scanning my body before locking onto mine. "I wanted to make sure you were settled in alright," he says, his voice low and smooth.

"I'm fine, thank you," I reply, trying to keep my voice level. It's hard not to notice the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest or how the muscles ripple in his arms as he moves.

His lips curl into a small smile, revealing just enough of his dimple to make my heart race. "Good," he says, taking a step closer to me. "Because there's a meeting in five. Walk with me?"

I nod, my heart beating faster at the sound of his voice. I follow him out of the room, trying to ignore the heat that spreads across my cheeks. As we walk down the hallway, I can feel his eyes on me, and it takes all my willpower not to glance over. I follow Caleb out of the room and down the hallway, his presence looming over me like a storm cloud. Every step he takes sends ripples through the air, stirring up something deep inside me.

"What's on the agenda for the meeting?" I ask, trying to distract myself from his overwhelming presence.

Caleb doesn't answer right away, instead taking a moment to regard me with a curious expression. "Just some further discussion about your responsibilities," he finally says, breaking eye contact.

As we walk, I try to keep my eyes on the ground, but I can feel his gaze burning into my skin. "So," he says after a few moments of silence. "How are you finding things here so far?"

I chew on my lip, trying to find the right words. "It's... different," I say finally. "But in a good way, I think."

We reach the designated meeting room, and I take a deep breath before stepping inside. Leo, and Jackson are already seated around the table, their faces serious as they wait for me to take my seat.

"Ah, Charlie," Leo says with a polite smile. "Can I get you a drink?"

He's still trying to make up for his previous sexism.

"No thank you, Mr. Thompson." I take a seat, setting my notebook down in front of me. "I don't drink on the job."

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