The Billionaire's Bet(5)

I looked up and gaped at the alarm clock. My eyes shot open and I frowned. It wasn’t the time that had startled me. The giant pink dildo on the nightstand did.

How the hell did that get there?

More importantly, whose was it? Not mine, that was for sure. I didn’t remember ever buying a dildo like that. Sure, I had a flesh colored one, but not a pink, cutesy one.

What the hell did I do last night?

Groaning, I managed to fall out of bed.

The knocking ensued and I could hear it was someone shouting at the door. “Miss Valentine? Room service. Open up please,” a woman shouted.

I panicked and searched for a washcloth to get the smudges off my face. “In a minute!” I yelled back.

I ran around the room, trying to clean myself, pick up the dirty laundry and throw it under the bed, rearrange my furniture that had landed all over the place and get out of this uncomfortable dress. I threw the dildo into an empty drawer. I put on a clean shirt and some jeans and brushed my hair.

“Can I come in now?” the woman said.

“Yeah, coming,” I said and I ran to the door and unlocked it. I didn’t even know how it got locked in the first place. I hardly remembered anything about last night.

She came in and stared at me for a second, before rolling in the trolley packed with scrumptious food for breakfast. She did her routine, placing everything neatly where it belonged and then walked over to the bed to take off my sheets.

“I’ve included a newspaper, as requested. Service will be back with clean sheets this afternoon. They’ve got the key, so no need to stay in, and they’ll bring clean towels. If there’s anything else you need, don’t hesitate to call. Enjoy your breakfast and have a nice day,” she said, and she quickly closed the door behind her.

I sat down at the table and took some toast and butter off the plate, while I turned on my laptop. Skimming through my notes, I noticed I hadn’t made any progress in a while. I sighed and ate some strawberries, realizing I had to make some money soon before it would completely dry up. My writing wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure.

I picked up the newspaper and, scanning it, I noticed a peculiar ad.

‘Wanted. Female assistant for CEO of Casino. High maintenance job. Must be eighteen or older and have plenty of experience with men. Not for the weak hearted or ill. Must be open-minded and capable of reducing work-related stress. Must be available twenty-four/seven. Pay is fifteen thousand a week.’

“Fifteen thousand a week?” I blurted out. “What the hell is this job?”

I tried to find more information, but there was nothing about it except that tiny ad. I bit my lip and thought about it.

What if I’d do it? Who knows what could be in store, what would be asked, but it does make a lot of money. And I need it.

I looked at my laptop again and stared at the letters on the screen. Those weren’t going to earn me half as much in half a year as this job would within a week.

I smirked and nodded, ripping out the ad from the newspaper. “New job, get ready for Julie.”





Chapter 3





I rummaged through my suitcase until I found the perfect black outfit that would match with my black heels. I had to make a good impression on the casino boss so I could snag this job for my own and cash in. In my head I already had clear what I was going to say and how I would present myself.

Sit up straight, smile, don’t squint, keep your composure, tell about your best aspects and show him why he needs to pick me.

I glanced at the mirror one last time before heading out. The ad in the paper had said it was on the top floor of this casino, so I walked to the elevator and nervously pressed the button. The waiting seemed to last indefinitely. I chewed my nails and anxiously tiptoed around until the doors opened and I saw about ten chairs filled with women all staring at me.

I swallowed and stepped out into the hallway that almost looked like a holding pen for snarky women. I sat down on the nearest seat and cleared my throat. The women turned their heads toward the only door in the hallway.

When the door opened, all the heads shot up into the air. A lady came running out, wiping her cheeks, sniveling in between. Her eyes were red. She ran across the hall and into the elevator, pressing the button about twenty times until the doors closed.

We all switched places, forward one row. The next lady went in, but after five minutes, she came out too, crying. Every woman that went in, came out with a few tears rolling down her face. I wondered what was so extreme about this job that had confident women running away, bawling their eyes out.

Still, I had to see for myself. It didn’t hurt to try and I really needed the money. Maybe they just weren’t up to the task or maybe they just didn’t appeal to him.