Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire: Chapter 2
Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire (Single and Sassy in the city Book 2)
Ethan
âHow many times do I have to tell you to tell these people to stop putting me in their newspaper?â I fling the paper down on the table in disgust and glare at my assistant Edith. She doesnât bat an eyelid as she glances up at me over the top of her purple glasses. Her blue eyes take me in keenly and then glance back down at her desk. She doesnât even acknowledge the paper as she swipes something on her phone. Sheâs looking at photographs of her grandkids and is not bothered with me and my bad mood whatsoever. âDid you hear me?â I ask her, irritation clear in my voice. I fold my arms, square my shoulders, and stare her down.
âI heard you, Ethan.â Thereâs not a note of concern in her voice as she nods and holds up a photo of a blond baby in a bath. âIsnât Jeremiah such a cutie?â she gushes as she waves the photo back and forth in front of my face.
I hold my breath and count to ten. For the twentieth time this week, I want to fire her. She deserves to be fired. Sheâs the worst assistant to exist in corporate America, yet I know I canât get rid of her. Edith Pisa has been at the company since my grandfather started it and even worked for free for my dad when he almost ran it into the ground. Edith knows the Rosser family loves her and that she has a job for life, even if she doesnât actually do much. And by much, I mean nothing. Sheâs entitled to a full pension. She is set for life but says coming to the office gives her purpose.
âHeâs okay.â I press my lips together as she flickers through more photos of her grandchildren, like I care. âAre there any messages for me?â
âNot that I know of.â She shakes her head as if Iâm asking her a dumb question. âOh, there is something. Janet, you know Janet, she works in the cafeteria. She makes the coffee. Not the bad coffee, thatâs Sylvia. Who I daresay should have been fired long ago, but I guess after she got over cancer, it would have been heartless to fire her.â
âEdith, please. What is the point of this?â I hold in a huge sigh as I grab a stack of letters from her desk.
âWell, Janet told me that she was speaking to people in the IT department this morning. They love her cappuccinos, you see. She gives them free biscotti, with each cup. Homemade it is, very nice. I think her husbandâs mother was from Sicily.â
âEdith.â
âWell, they said that thereâs an internal website going live this week. An internet for everyone who works here at Rosser International. Just for us.â
âIntranet.â
âThatâs what I said, internet.â
âNo, itâs an intranet. Itâs a private network for all employees to communicate with each other. Post memos, etcetera.â I nod. âAnd yes, itâs going live later this week. I am the one that approved it.â
âWell, well, well, look how far weâve come.â Edith sits back and opens her handbag. I can see some knitting needles and several skeins of wool. Sheâs probably knitting me another scarf for my birthday or a blanket for another one of her grandkids. I wasnât going to bother asking which one, though I hope itâs not for me. The bright red wool I can see is not appealing to me whatsoever.
âIâm going into my office. Hold all calls for the morning. I need to concentrate on some contracts Nicholas has drawn up for our new line of pendant lights.â I may as well be talking to myself. Edith is no longer listening. I walk into my office, close the door, and pull out my cell phone. It rings twice, and then I hear a long groan.
âWhat is it?â Pamela, my real assistant, answers, and I know sheâs not happy to hear from me. I donât care.
âWhen are you back? Edith is not handling shit.â I grunt as I head toward my desk. My office is vast, with a majestic view of the New York skyline. I can see Central Park in the distance. I think of the people walking about leisurely at that very moment. None of whom are as rich as me. No one who is walking around in the middle of a workday has close to the amount of money I have.
âNext week.â
âNext week?â I glare into the phone. âThat means I have to handle the entire week by myself.â
âIâm sorry, Ethan, but youâve known that I was going to be away this week for over a year.â I can hear seagulls in the background as she talks and whispers something to someone and giggles.
âItâs just not a good time to be awayâ¦â My voice trails off as I pause and wait for her to offer to get back to the office to help me out. Thereâs silence on the other end of the line, aside from the sound of waves crashing against rocks and little kids screaming in the background.
âEthan, I am on my honeymoon. Youâre lucky I even answered the phone.â She sounds annoyed now, and I can picture her pinched white lips. Pamela often gets annoyed with me and isnât shy to express her sentiments, which is why we get on so well. Pamela, like Edith, is not in love with me, has no desire to impress me, and doesnât want to date or marry me. And she isnât trying to get her hands on my fortune. That is part of the reason why sheâs worked alongside me and Edith for the past five years without issue. In fact, Pamela used to be a workaholic until Carl came along, swept her off her feet, and then proposed to her. Carl Poveroski is the worst thing that has ever happened to me and my work life.
âArenât honeymoonâs overrated?â I ask, grunting as I take a seat behind the mahogany wooden desk that my grandfather had once sat behind. His father made the desk, and it makes me proud to use it to work from every day. A real piece of family history.
âMr. Rosser.â She changes to my formal name and I know sheâs lost all patience with me. âWas there something important you wanted to ask me before I hang up in five seconds?â
âMake sure Iâm not on that list of eligible bachelors again next year,â I snap as I lean back and check my email. I groan as I see dozens of new emails from eager women who have gone to our company website and found my email address. I close my eyes and press my lips together. âI donât need every desperate woman in the United States and beyond trying to make me fall for them.â
âIf you got married yourself, then you wouldnât have to worry about being on the list,â she says smartly and then laughs because she knows her words are not what I want to hear. âCarl wants to go swimming now. Have a great week. Iâll see you soon.â Before I can respond, she hangs up the phone, and I put my cell down on the desk.
âNever going to happen,â I mutter to no one as I think about her words. The thought of getting married does not excite me. I donât see myself married. Or having kids. Or settling down with one woman. My grandparents think itâs because Iâve never met the one, but I already know there isnât a one. Iâve dated hundreds, if not thousands, of women, and I have not once wanted to have a serious relationship. I know many women think I had my heart broken when I was younger, and thatâs why Iâm not looking for anything serious, but no such thing ever happened. Iâve never been in love and never wanted it, either. The last thing I need is a bunch of women trying to garner my attention to try to be the one to make me settle down.
Bang. A loud rapping on my door makes me stand up and walk toward it. I know itâs not Edith because she doesnât bother to knock.
âWho is it?â I call out as I open the door abruptly. I try not to roll my eyes as I see my CFO, Jackson Pruitt, standing there with a bouquet of roses in his hand and a dopey grin on his face. I already know heâs about to get on my nerves with some foolishness. Jackson is my best friend, colleague, and probably the only person in the world who can tease me and get away with it.
âMr. Rosser, please take me on a date this evening,â he says in an overly high, squeaky feminine voice as he walks into my office. âI promise I can make all your dreams come true.â He pretends to bow and flutters his fingers. âIâve looked all my life for a mighty fine man like you,â he continues, barely able to keep a straight face as he jokes around.
âReally, Jackson?â Fireworks spark from my eyes as I glare at his grinning face. He thinks heâs funny, and I know he will be teasing me for the next couple of days, as he does every year when the article comes out. I wish the sparks were real so that theyâd burn him and make him shut up.
âBut, sir, Iâm sure I can make you fall in love with me,â he says with a wink as he saunters to the desk and sits in one of the leather chairs. âHow many emails have you gotten already saying the very same thing?â
âNo idea.â I walk back to my chair and sit down and face him. Thereâs a stupid expression on his familiar face that makes me want to laugh and smack him at the same time. Our relationship is one of the most important in my life. He is like a brother to me. âJust so you know, I donât read any of the emails I receive. I delete them. I wish I could delete my email address from the website, as well.â
âBut we both know that Rosser International is a company that stands for transparency. From the CEO to the clerks in the mailroom,â he reminds me of my mantra, and the policies I instated years ago, and chuckles. âIsnât that why stocks are up thirty-one percent this year? Or is it that all the women in the world want to invest in your company because they think they will have a chance with you if you know theyâre a shareholder?â
âOr maybe they are hoping to have a chance with you?â I suggest as I take in his short, dark hair and vivid green eyes. Jackson Pruitt was the second most handsome man behind me when we were at Harvard getting our MBAs. At least, thatâs what I always teased him and said. I know that many women prefer his looks to mine. They definitely prefer his lighthearted, flirtatious personality to my overly serious one. I donât have time for small talk or banter. I didnât have time for it in college, nor do I now. Back then, I focused on saving the family company. Now that Iâve saved it and have plenty of money, I should be more lighthearted. But the responsibility of thousands of families rests on my shoulders, and I take that very seriously. I have money to continue to make and families to support, including my own.
âThey can have a chance.â Jackson winks and places his palms on the table. âAnd if they can blow my mind on the first date then they get a second date, where Iâll actually spend some money on them.â
âYouâre a dog.â
âIâm not the only one that dates a lot,â he shoots back at me.
âBut I donât sleep with them all.â
âYou sleep with some of them though.â He grins at me. âDonât pretend to be a monk with me, Ethan. You forget we date in the same circles. There are many women who talk about your prowess in the bedroom.â
âWhat can I say?â I shrug, a certain smugness in my tone. âI like to fuck. What red-blooded male doesnât? I canât help it if Iâm so amazing in bed that women always want more. Sorry the women you date donât feel the same.â
âMost men donât have a five-date rule though.â Jackson leans forward on the desk. âAnd most donât tell women on the first date that there will not be a sixth date or sex after the fifth time.â
âI like to be clear about what is available when going out with me.â I grab some folders and hand them over to him. If heâs going to waste my time and annoy me, then he might as well be given more work. âEnough about my love life. Nicholas sent over some contracts between us and several department stores for our new line of pendant lights. We need to have these read by tomorrow as weâre meeting with Home Design Depot in the morning to finalize the details for the first shipment. We have ten thousand items being sent out and a massive campaign starting next month.â
âDidnât Nicholas say the terms were good?â Jacksonâs eyes are keen as he gazes at me, his brain back into work mode. âYou still want us to go over them to find stuff he may have missed or just to be more knowledgeable?â
âWe need to ensure we know exactly what they say.â I remind him of my mantra, âLet there be nothing going on at the company that we donât know about.â I trust Nicholas; he is one of the best corporate attorneys in America, but I need to ensure I know everything I am agreeing to in every contract I sign off on. Since I was a young boy, Iâd been taught by my grandfather Frederick that one should always have knowledge of everything going on in your own business. This was stressed to me as he watched his son and my father running his business into the ground. My father was not astute, lacked knowledge of basically everything, and had a gambling and woman addiction that led to a predilection for buying my mother anything and everything she wanted, no matter if he could afford it or not.
âI know.â He nods. He knows all about my family history and my need to be diligent. âI actually came up to talk to you about the marketing campaign for the brass and gold dome lights designed by Lord Chambers. He wants to have a jingle created.â Jackson smirks as I run my fingers through my hair in exasperation. It had been my idea to have a Royal Lighting Line, but dealing with the various members of different royal families was proving to be extremely tiring. Especially seeing as the lighting section of my corporation was only one percent of what we did. Yet the named royals designing some of the lights had expectations out of this world.
âA jingle?â I raise an eyebrow. âWhat does he think heâs creating? A new cereal for kids?â
âHardly.â Jackson laughs, and a light comes on in his green eyes, and I can tell heâs just had what he thinks is an ingenious idea. He stands up and heads over to me. âThough General Mills has had aââ
âStop right there.â I cut him off. âWeâre not going into the cereal market.â
âButâ¦â
âBut nothing.â I lean back in my seat and think for a second. Lord Chambers, though not particularly talented, has a large social media following due to his handsome, good looks and daredevil lifestyle. He can sell several hundred thousand lights for us if we hit the market just right. If itâs a jingle he wants, itâs a jingle he shall get. I stand up and head back toward the door. âThe cereal line is not going to happen, especially if weâre focusing on branching out into entertainment and, specifically, new musical artists. Shall we go down to copywriting and see if anyone can come up with a jingle?â
âYou want to venture down to the copywriting department?â He grins in surprise as he jumps up and puts the folders under his arm. âGoing to hang out with the peasants.â
âTheyâre not peasants. I am accessible to everyone in the company.â
âSure you are.â He laughs, and I know he wants to add something else but thinks better of it. Jackson and I have been best friends since high school. We both went to undergrad together and got our MBAs at Harvard. When I took over Rosser International, he was the first hire I made, even though heâd been recruited by Fortune 500 companies for far more money. He helped me grow the company into the huge success it is today and is my right-hand man. I love him like a brother, and even though we have different personalities, we get on like a house on fire.
âYou coming?â I ask him as we exit the office. Edith is now on the phone and eating a sandwich, and all I do is smile as she gives me a happy wave. She might be an awful assistant, but she is like family, at this point. âEdith, Jackson and I are headed down to copywriting. Iâll be back in a bit.â
âSure thing, Ethan.â She smiles at me as she lowers her phone from her ear. âWatch out for all the ladies who might want to marry you.â
âThereâs a no-fraternization policy at Rosser International,â I remind her. âEveryone knows that.â
âYes, Ethan.â She nods and then looks over to Jackson. âAnd what about you, Mr. Pruitt? Are you in the market for a wife?â
âI think that neither of us is in the market for a wife,â he says as he hands her the bouquet of roses. âThese are for you. Turns out, Ethan doesnât want them.â
âOoh, thank you very much.â She beams as she pushes her chair back. She places her phone down on the table loudly and grabs the flowers. âLet me go and find a vase. I donât want these to dry out. Oh, what will my Frank say when he sees Iâve been given roses? Heâll be so jealous.â Thereâs excitement in her tone, and I donât question why she wants to make her husband of decades jealous.
âSounds good.â I nod and wrinkle my nose as I see my face beaming up at me from her table. The newspaper article is mocking me as it lies across her desk, and I turn back to Jackson with an annoyed frown. My furtive expression causes him to smirk, but I donât acknowledge his holier-than-thou look. âCome on, letâs go. Hopefully, no one else in the office thinks they can talk to me about my love life.â