Page 20 of Bossy Billionaire's Pretend Fiancée

She held the door open for me, a simple gesture that symbolized the seamless flow of our professional partnership.

The world may see me as a powerful businessman, but Amelia knew the intricate details that made up my life.

Entering my office, I settled into the comfortable chair behind my desk. Amelia took her place across from me, her fingers expertly flipping through the pages of the daily itinerary.

"Let's see, shall we?" she mused aloud, eyes scanning the pages. "We have a meeting with the board at 10:00 a.m., followed bya conference call with the international partners at 11:00 a.m. Lunch with the investors at 12:30 p.m."

As she continued, the words began to blur, consolidating into a sea of obligations and commitments.

A familiar tension crept into my temples. I closed my eyes briefly, hoping to ward off the inevitable headache that seemed to hover on the horizon.

“Mr. Hartman?" Amelia's voice cut through the haze, concern in her tone.

I opened my eyes, offering her a faint smile.

"I'm fine. Just a little headache."

She nodded sympathetically, a glint of understanding in her eyes.

"It's a busy day, but you'll manage as always. Shall I bring you some aspirin?"

"Please, that would be great," I replied, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

As she left to retrieve the medicine, I leaned back in my chair, massaging my temples with my fingers. Days like this were a testament to the responsibilities that came with success.

Amelia returned with the aspirin, and I gratefully accepted the small pill she handed me, washing it down with a sip of coffee.

"Thank you," I said, offering her a genuine smile this time. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her cheeks tinged with subtle blush, and she cleared her throat before regaining her professional composure.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Hartman. I'll make sure everything runs smoothly today."

"Thank you. Wait, before you go," I began, my gaze fixed on the cityscape outside my window. "I have a task for you."

Amelia paused, a look of curiosity crossing her features.

"Of course, Mr. Hartman. What do you need?"

I turned my attention to her, meeting her eyes with a seriousness that contrasted with the playful banter we often shared.

"I want you to research someone for me – Elizabeth Parker. She's a writer."

Amelia's eyebrows arched in surprise, and a smile played at the corner of her lips.

"Elizabeth Parker? You're venturing into literature now?"

I sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

"I suppose you could say that. Just gather all the articles she's written, any interviews, features – everything you can find. I want to read through her work.”

Amelia's gaze held mine for a moment, and I could see the wheels turning in her mind.

She had an uncanny ability to decipher my intentions and understand the motivations behind my requests. It’s one of the reasons I valued her so much.

But before she could voice her thoughts, I raised a hand to hold off any questions.

"No questions this time, Amelia. Indulge me and do what I've asked, please."

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