Billionaire’s Bribe
Erotic Romance
Eva drummed her fingers against the desk as she stared at the computer screen. Her teeth worried her lower lip as her bank balance figure seemed to stare back at her accusingly—a measly two thousand dollars. Less than half of the month’s rent for her one-bedroom apartment in New York City. She should have moved out when she lost her job, but she’d been in denial that she would fail to find another one, and hadn’t wanted to lose her view of Central Park. But now, if she didn’t do something soon, she was going to lose everything.
Glancing at the phone, she briefly considered calling her parents to ask for money. Her pride refused to allow her to dial the number—she’d already asked last month. She was a grown woman of twenty-three and she needed to do this herself. She was just going to have to suck it up and find a job.
Opening up another window in her browser, she began searching job board sites. She made herself look through the fast food ones and even applied for some of them, but couldn’t help wincing at the pay rates. She’d have to take two or three if she was going to continue financing her current lifestyle.
Disgusted, she put her head in her hands. What was she doing? She used to be the assistant for the owner of a printing company. Not incredibly glamorous, but it paid well and the office atmosphere had been fun. At least until the printing company had gone under. Times were hard and she’d barely managed to scrape by living off unemployment and food stamps. In order to do that she’d had to cut down severely on spending as it was—she couldn’t bear to think of what else she would have to let go.
Stiffening her resolve, she went back to Google and typed in a search request for administrative jobs. She couldn’t let this happen to her. She just couldn’t.
Scrolling through the lists of jobs that popped up, her heart leaped as she finally saw what she wanted: it was a Personal Assistant position at Creative Enterprises, one of the top advertising agencies in New York. Her eyes scanned over the job description, and nearly fell out of their sockets at the salary listed. It would more than cover her requirements. Her eyes moved down the list of requirements and she froze--- amongst them was a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration and five years of experience in related positions. She’d only worked at the printing company for three years, and had never finished college.
A vision of her wearing a McDonald’s uniform and handing out fries and burgers through a Drive-Thru window had her setting her jaw. She would just have to make it work. This position was perfect. The agency was located on her side of town, and she knew she was more than capable of doing the tasks laid out in the job description. She wasn’t going to let her lack of a college degree or experience get in her way.
Taking a breath, she opened a word document and selected a resume template, then flexed her fingers over the keyboard. It was time to work some magic.
****
“Yes,” Eva told the recruiter, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice, “two o’clock tomorrow is perfect for me.”
“Excellent. We very much look forward to seeing you. I’ve sent an email with the date and time and directions for your reference.”
“Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome. Have a great day.”
Eva hung up the phone and squealed in excitement. She had an interview! Tomorrow afternoon she would be meeting her prospective employer and the man she would be an assistant to. She was going to knock his socks off; she had no choice.
Rushing into her room, she began to rummage through her closet for something suitable to wear. She had twenty-four hours to put together her image and presentation. And she was going to do her best. This Mr. Stone wouldn’t know what hit him.
****
Greyson Stone sipped from his coffee mug as Eva Moore was ushered into his office. His eyes roamed over her—thick, chestnut hair pulled back into a French twist to reveal a heart shaped face with large, almond shaped eyes, a cute little nose, and pouty lips. Her skin was like the breaking dawn—pale with a rosy tint, and her curvy frame was wonderfully displayed by the form-fitting black dress she wore.
Not wanting to seem forward since he was her prospective employer, he brought his eyes up to her own. The irises were amber, and he could see nerves and determination in them. The first was to be expected, the second one made him sit up a little straighter in his high-backed, leather swivel chair. In his experience that look was one of the marks of a good employee—it separated her as one of the ones who made a job, as opposed to ones that conformed to a job.