My Billionaire, page 3
"Excuse me?" I said, and despite my best efforts I know I sounded hoarse, like a man who hasn't had anything to drink in a long time.
"I'm sorry, do I need to say more plainly? You. Are. Fired. You do not pass go, you do not collect $200. When I reviewed the reports, I asked you to look over, I was horrified to see that your sloppiness had led to major financial losses for this company. You don't need to worry though, after consulting with our legal counsel, I don't think we can file any charges. I just wouldn't, expect a good letter of recommendation if you know what I mean. You don't need to go to your desk, I've called security and they will escort you from the building. Any personal items that are on your desk will be sent to you in a timely fashion. Give it a week or two," she added standing up and adjusting her skirt.
I couldn't help myself, and was shaking as I stood up as well.
"I, I," I didn't know how to finish the sentence. There was a knock on the door and she called for whatever was on the other side enter. My mind was racing, as two burly security officers open the door and entered her office. It had to be her. There was no other answer. The fact that I had brought the information to her, in good faith. How can I be so stupid? There is no doubt in my mind that she was the one that was embezzling money from the company. But what can I do? I was getting kicked out, toss onto the street like some drunk bum. That's when I remembered I had the thumb drive still in my pants pocket. The thumb drive with the files on it. Somehow, in the back of my head, I had known that it had been smart to have a backup plan. Still, I wasn't sure I wanted the job. Not at this company anymore. Certainly not under a thief. But maybe, maybe there is still a chance for some good old-fashioned justice.
it turned out, I didn't even have to wait that long. As the two guards were escorting me to the elevator, the same elevator doors opened, with a chipper chime that was the opposite of my current disposition.
It wasn't uncommon for them to open, but when Maxwell Declan and his usual entourage stepped off the elevator, that was an uncommon my site. It was shocking, considering I've only seen him twice in my entire tenure at the company. Or rather, I should say his company. Those glances that I had seen him, had been very fleeting.
Maxwell Declan wasn’t like the pictures I had seen of him. No, the pictures of the mysterious billionaire didn’t come even close to doing him justice. He was unbelievably attractive. There was something… dark, brooding about his demeanor that was not picked up by the photographs.
He was dressed in a charcoal suit with a black shirt and a white tie, an off-putting look that somehow worked for him. The suit clung to his body well, and even though he was fully clothed it revealed enough to let me, and anyone else watching, (which was everyone) that he had a chiseled frame underneath the expensive fabric.
He had a five-clock shadow and walked with the kind of self-confidence that can only come from being one of the richest men in the world.
"Sir!” I called out. "Sir!" The security guard on my left grab my arm tightly, squeezing it hard. I felt a flash of pain, but I ignored him. "Sir someone stealing a lot of money from you!"
The guard started dragging me hard towards the stairs. One of them started stammering at one of the billionaires of various entourage members, a stern looking man with a shaved head and a ridiculous handlebar mustache. I guessed correctly that he was the head of Maxwell security. I was just about through the door, when Maxwell's voice boomed out through the sea of cubicles. "Hold it." It was a sharp authoritative command, and everyone froze.
"Bring him to me," he said. The two security guards gave each other shifted look, and then carried me by my arms back towards him. They stopped me maybe seven feet from the billionaire. Their grips on both of my arms tightened, in case I suppose, I decided to completely lose it and attack him? He didn't make much sense, but it didn't matter. I had my chance, but I wasn't about to mess it up.
"Sorry for the interruption Mr. Declan, but considering I was just fired I thought you should know."
"I should just know what?" He asked.
"You should know that your lead manager on this floor is stealing hundreds of thousands of dollars from the company. From you. If I'm allowed to, I have the proof in my left pocket." I added. His head of security with a handlebar mustache shifted from one foot to the other, his eyes bearing into my face, almost like he was trying to melt holes in the back of my head. To my surprise however, he nodded a fraction of an inch, and both security guards loosened their grips on my arms. I reached into my pocket slowly, and pulled out the thumb drive. I handed it to the head of security, and he examined it for moment.
"I need a terminal that's not connected to the main network," he said.
Two minutes later, we were standing in front of an unplugged laptop, placed at a desk in a cubicle at the edge of the sea of cubicles. It was an open desk, a position I couldn't rub remember if it matters or not, and one that had obviously not been replaced.
One of Maxwell’s entourage had set up a laptop that was clearly not plugged into the network. The head of security handed the thumb drive over to a beautiful woman who seemed like she had to be Russian if only for her stark contrast of beauty to outright coldness in her demeanor. I had seen her with Maxwell before as well, and gathered (correctly) that she was his right-hand person.
I had also gathered since I had handed over the thumb drive that her name was Sonya. Chances that she was actually Russian seemed… possible.
She plugged in the drive and looked back at me. Her stare was just as piercing as the head of security, and then she returned her attention to the computer screen. She took maybe five minutes to look over the report carefully, and then she turned her head and her full attention to her boss.
“He’s telling the truth.”
Mary, who had been called out of her office to watch started to stammer, and turned her attention to the handsome billionaire.
“This is ridiculous! Your assistant is wrong! I’ve been with this company five years. When I noticed the mistakes, I terminated him instantly.”
Maxwell cut her off with a single dismissive wave.
“You’ve been in charge of this department for two years, and you didn’t notice these reports were off by how much Sonya?”
“According to this report, at least $358,000.”
“At least?”
“Yes.”
“Well there you go. I would suggest getting a lawyer, just be aware, every good one in the city won’t return your call. Good luck with a public defender. Ron will see you out.”
The man with the mustache nodded, and grabbed her by the arm and dragged her towards the stairs, even as she continued to stammer.
Maxwell turned toward me, and reached out. It took a second to realize he was offering to shake my hand. I shook his, and was impressed by just how strong of a grip he had.
“You are?”
“Blake sir.”
“And she fired you when you spotted the errors?”
“Well… yeah. Yes. More or less.”
“Well, thank you for telling me, but I’m not going to offer you your job back.”
I did a double take. “Excuse me sir?”
“No, it’s obvious that you don’t belong in this department. I have a better position in mind for you,” he added.
Sonya cleared her throat, and for the first time since I shook his hand, I looked away from the best-looking man I had ever laid my eyes on.
She was giving him a very pointed look, but the billionaire ignored it.
“Take the rest of the day off Blake, and be here at 8AM sharp so Sonya can go over your new position.”
“I…”
“That is, if you want it,” he added.
I nodded eagerly. “Of course, sir.”
“Right. Get out of here, you’ve had enough for one day.”
So I did just as he commanded. It turned out, that was something that I was very comfortable doing, which was good, considering just what kind of “job” he had in mind for me.
4
Blake
The next morning, I woke up very early, rolling off the inflatable mattress I had grabbed at a Target. It was still bizarre to have my life change so much in such a short period of time. It didn’t feel real in some way, like I couldn’t believe that it was something that was really happening.
I put on my best business suit and headed to work. When I arrived at the same building I had worked at for the better part of two years, I was somehow far more nervous than I had ever been in the past. After all, it just felt… different this time. Because this time, it was different.
Sonya greeted me on the top floor, and led me down a pristine white hallway to an office about three times the size of Mary’s. Everything inside was white, including the glass topped large white desk. It was obviously her office, and she had a contract sitting perfectly arranged on her desk, with a black and white marble fountain pen on top of the paper. There was also a folder (white of course) that she had placed to the right of the contract closer to her side of the desk. When she took a seat, she picked up the folder and began to flip through it.
“I’ve taken the liberty of going over your work downstairs over the last six months. You’re clearly talented, and if it wasn’t for Mary constantly taking credit for you work, someone would have taken note and promoted you. She should have obviously, but since she was busy stealing from the Mr. Declan instead of doing her job, it slipped through the cracks.”
“I had no clue,” I stammered, and was instantly angry with myself. Why on earth was I stammering? It was ridiculous and totally unnecessary. There was no need for me to stammer considering I was the being given a new job.
Calm down, I told myself.
“Well, it wasn’t your job to know. Take a moment to look over your new contract. The position that we’re offering you is that of Mr. Declan’s chief personal assistant. You’ll be one of several gatekeepers preventing the various riffraff from keeping the various undesirables from trying to talk to him, as well as maintaining his personal schedule. The salary bump from your pervious position is three times what you were previously paid, and there’s a signing bonus that to put lightly is incredibly generous. Once you’ve looked it over, I’m happy to answer any questions you have.”
I nodded and then picked up the contract. I could feel Sonya’s eyes on me for a long moment, but I tried to ignore her and focus on the contract.
I took a solid ten minutes to read it over, even though the document in total was fifteen pages. I made sure I read it over twice. Not that I didn’t believe that it was a good contract, but there was some unusual language several times in the document, and I was curious about that. Of course, who was I kidding, I was of course going to sign it. The offer seemed too good to be true, but it didn’t matter. Triple the money was triple the money.
“Why the non-disclosure?” I asked, finally setting the document down.
“He’s one of the richest men in the world, and one of the most secretive. Above all else, Mr. Declan appreciates and values his privacy.”
I nodded. “Okay. And what about this part about required overtime?”
“He’s running one of the largest companies in the world. If you don’t want to put in the hours that he does… there are plenty of others who will.”
I held up a hand. I got it, and the message was loud and clear. “No, that’s totally understandable.” I took a deep breath, exhaling again. “Okay. I’m in.”
“Well you know where to sign.”
I looked down at the page, and picked up the expensive fountain pen. “Nice,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure if she had heard me, but Sonya spoke up. “It’s a Mantablac limited addition. A Christmas present from Mr. Declan,” she added, and there was defiantly pride in her voice as she said it. Not that I blamed her. I would be proud too if one of the richest men in the world, who happened to be your boss gave you a pen that probably cost somewhere in the five-thousand-dollar range.
I signed the agreement and looked up at her again. “So, when do I start?”
She smiled, but there was no warmth to it. It wasn’t cold either, but rather, just neutral. It was more like when someone sticks out their hand and you shake it without thinking about it. Reactive, rather than conscious.
“As soon as you sign the last page,” she said.
I did, and then put the cap back on the pen and the pen on the top of the contract before pushing it back toward her.
“Okay,” I said.
“Let’s begin,” she said, and stood up. I followed suit, and then followed her out of the room and back down the hall.
I thought I would be a little overwhelmed my first day, but I honestly had no clue what I had just signed up for.
5
Blake
My desk area wasn’t just large, it was truly massive. I had a Herman Miller chair, and a brand new computer as opposed to the heap of junk I had used previously downstairs.
Sonya nodded at me and said, “I have several meetings I need to get to, but Mr. Declan will be in sometime in the near future. I’d suggest you use your free time to get to know the schedule.”
She left without another word, leaving me to it.
I sat down, feeling how strange it was to be in my new office. I opened up his schedule and took a deep breath before I started to familiarize myself with it.
I had been at it for maybe twenty minutes when the elevator doors at the end of the hall chimed and the billionaire stepped out onto the floor.
I had been in such a state of distress the previous afternoon, that while I had taken in what Maxwell looked like, I don’t think I had honestly appreciated it, since I had been so focused on not getting fired and proving that my previous boss was a corrupt criminal.
Maxwell Declan wasn’t like the pictures I had seen of him. No, the pictures of the mysterious billionaire didn’t come even close to doing him justice. He was unbelievably attractive. There was something… dark, even brooding about his demeanor that was not picked up by the photographs.
He was also trailed by three people: an Asian woman of indistinguishable age that was gorgeous and wearing a jet-black suit, (who I later found out was named Nancy) a black man who well over six feet tall and wore a blue pinstripe suit that I was sure cost more than my monthly rent, (James) and the man with the handle bar mustache who was his head of security, Ron. He was dressed in a simple brown suit with both of his hands in his pants pockets.
Of everyone in Mr. Declan’s group Ron looked the most relaxed, like he was just taking a stroll in a park in the afternoon. For whatever reason his demeanor reminded me of a tiger a little bit. There was something… dangerous about him. Even though I had only just laid eyes on him, I could tell he was a predator.
Mr. Declan approached my desk and looked me up and down dismissively once. I had never seen such perfect eyes before. I felt like I wanted to crawl into some hole somewhere and shrivel up and hide there forever. They didn’t just look at me, those eyes of his… They could see right through me, into my very soul.
“Welcome,” he said. His voice was soft, but masculine as always. “As I’m sure you’re aware, I have a call with Northwest ten minutes ago. So, hold my calls and all that. Nancy, and James, you’re both with me. Ron, I want you to look over the reports I sent you earlier.”
Ron nodded, and the other two made no indication they heard him. They did follow after him to the end of the hall, about fifteen feet past my desk. It was a heavy set up double doors, that appeared to have no actual handles. Nancy glanced back at me. I realized there was a massive red button at the edge of my desk.
I felt my cheeks go crimson and I pushed it. The doors opened with a soft “whoosh” and the billionaire and his people entered an office that appeared to be larger than the entirety of the floor I used to work on. The doors shut shortly after they entered, leaving me feeling like an idiot as I dug back into the calendar. I had a feeling I was being thrown into the deep end of the pool to see if I could swim, and I didn’t want to make anymore mistakes to make Max or any of his inner circle think that I couldn’t.
I especially didn’t want Max to think that, though I wasn’t entirely sure why what he thought of me mattered so much to me.
6
Blake
The first day flew by, and I collapsed onto my air mattress that night and fell sound asleep, without even bothering to add air. When I woke before dawn it was because I was sleeping on the floor. I was groggy and my back hurt. I ignored the aches and showered and headed into the office early. By the time I was at my desk the sun was rising, but I was still in well before 7:00AM.
I had been behind my desk maybe twenty minutes when Maxwell Declan finally walked through the doors. He somehow looked even better than the day before. He was dressed in a charcoal grey suit, with a light blue shirt and black tie. His dress shoes (Chestnut brown Wingtip Eddy Almonds) paired with the outfit perfectly and he looked like he had gotten a dozen hours of sleep as he moved across the floor with a slow, powerful stride. His eyes found mine and he smiled.
“How are you this morning Blake? Ready to go?”
“I’m doing well, Mr. Declan. How are you doing this morning?”
He set a to-go coffee cup down on my desk and took a sip from the other one he was holding.
“I’m always good Blake. Please, call me Max.”
I felt my pulse pick up speed. God, he couldn’t possibly be this cool. He couldn’t be nice, rich, drop dead gorgeous, and good to his employees. It just wasn’t possible.
“Okay Max. Well you have a board room meeting at one and a conference call with Hong Kong at eleven,” I said, glancing at the iMac’s display.
