A One Night Stand With the Billionaire (Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire 5) - Page 10

She looked back down at the form, and her face melted into an inquisitive frown. “I’ve never heard that name before. What does it mean? Is it short for something?”

“Delilah,” I answered swiftly, hoping to speed the conversation along. I was already running a few minutes late, and the last thing I wanted to do was get stuck in a long-winded conversation about the Biblical tragedy of my name. “As in Samson...”

“Oh, that’s right!” she gushed, a dozen years of catechism classes echoing suddenly in her ears. “Well, that’s...beautiful.”

My eyes cooled as my smile grew quickly sarcastic; that was precisely why I shortened the name in the first place, because I was tired of people asking me if I cut hair for a living. “Thanks,” I said again before I gestured to the elevators in a helpless sort of way. “Obviously, this is my first day. Can you tell me what floor I’m supposed to go to? Do I need to check in with anyone?”

“Right.” She whipped out a folder full of paperwork and slid it my way. “You’ll find Mergers and Acquisitions on the sixtieth floor. Your supervisor is Steven Hardson, but he’s rarely in the office. For the time being, you’ll be paired with another junior associate who will share your active caseload and show you the ropes as you get settled in.”

A sudden wave of nerves fluttered in my stomach. After four years of applying repeatedly for the same job, I couldn’t believe it was all finally happening. “Another associate?” I questioned.

“Yes. Her name is, uh... Oh!” The secretary trailed off suddenly, shooting me an almost worried look. “You’ll be with, um...Madison Montgomery.”

Madison Montgomery? Is she demon possessed or something? What’s with the freak-out? I wondered, hoping I had nothing to be concerned about. An immediate image of some 600-pound drill sergeant came to mind, followed by others: an anorexic yoga addict with a penchant for sushi and speed; an energy-less burnout who would barely find time to point me in the direction of the copy room before she locked the door to her office and proceeded to binge-watch reruns of Gilmore Girls for seven hours on Netflix.

I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper but paired it with a winning smile. “This Madison... Is there anything I should know before I meet her?”

The receptionist visibly paled before shaking her head with the speed of a rabid cartoon. “No, not at all. She actually has one of the highest success rates in the entire division. She’s just a little...” She paused, searching for the right word. “She’s...interesting.”

Interesting? Okay. I can cope with that, especially if she’s good at what she does.

“Sixtieth floor, you said?” I asked, grabbing the folder and my freshly minted ID badge.

“That’s right,” she echoed, her accent shining through clear and strong. “I hope you enjoy your time here, Della. You certainly seem like a good fit.”

I flashed her a genuine smile, then headed to the elevators, readying myself for whatever that crazy new job in that crazy new town had to throw at me.

During the elevator ride up sixty floors, I had time to do a little thinking, to clarify a few key points in my head. I couldn’t let the previous night’s antics fool me. Never in my life had I behaved in such a manner, nor did I plan to again. There was simply no way to resist a man like that at a time like that. “It was just...impossible,” I told myself as the lift ascended.

By the time I reached the fortieth floor, empowered by the bright morning sunshine, I found it easier to focus on my original priorities, on the dream that had lured me all the way over to London from the gritty, sunshiny streets of New York City. That dream was Cross Enterprises, and there really was no company like it. It was entirely independent and innovative, globally known for breaking into new market bases, with plenty of fresh ideas to spare. When it came to the world of shipping and acquisitions, there truly was no competition. The only organization even remotely comparable was Hunter Corporation back home, but Cross offered more down-and-dirty-in-the-field experience, the kind I wanted and craved. Besides, I was ready to leave the Big Apple, to seek a new adventure in a new city, entirely ready to embrace change.

And it all starts today.

Just the day before, I’d cast off my American strings and set out to see what life across the pond had to offer. It was colder and cloudier but infinitely more exciting. No less than ten people had already fallen to pieces upon hearing my so-called heavy accent, and the new flat I had moved into boasted a gorgeous view of the Thames.

My friends in New York were sure I’d return within a year. My parents, who lived on a farm in rural Kentucky, were certain I wouldn’t even last that long. “You’ll be home like the cat that ate the damn canary,” my father said, “with your tail between your legs. But we’ll still love ya anyway!”

No matter what anyone said, though, the foggy shores of England lured me like a drug, and if the previous night was any indication of how things happened in the UK, I had a pretty good feeling I could find plenty of reasons to stay.

The elevator finally dinged on the sixtieth floor, and I stepped cautiously out. I looked this way and that before glancing down at the documents in my hand.

“Hello there!”

My head snapped up in surprise as an impeccably dressed man flew my way. He swept his eyes over me before his face melted into a gracious smile, the kind worn by reality-show housewives trying to make a good impression.

“You look lost,” he continued sympathetically. “Can I help you find something?”

He looked like an accountant but sounded like a chimney sweep right out of the 1800s. I secretly loved it and tried to hide the

smile that insisted upon creeping up the sides of my face.

“Yes, um...I’m looking for Madison Montgomery?” I phrased it as a question, hoping it would trigger some helpful advice. “I was told to report to her office.”

The man’s face paled, quite like the receptionist’s had, and he took a step back, as if he suddenly realized I was carrying a bomb or something contagious. “Madison Montgomery?” His eyes flickered cautiously across the hall and back again before his shoulders wilted. “What has she done this time?” he said after a little sigh. Then, before I could answer, he hastened to continue, “If you’ve come here to lodge a complaint, you should visit the thirtieth floor, but I assure you, miss, that the prayers of the entire building will be with you.”

My eyebrows lifted slowly into my auburn hair as I tried to talk the man down from what looked like a severe case of PTSD. “No, I’m not here to file anything. I’m the newest junior associate for Mergers and Acquisitions. Madison’s my new partner. That’s all.”

He visibly relaxed but stiffened at the same time. A weak smile flickered across his face, but a generous helping of flop-sweat dampened his shoulders as he glanced automatically down the hall. “She’s in Room 11, probably waiting for you.” With that, he made a strange twitching motion with his hands, almost as if he was crossing himself, then turned quickly and paced away. “Godspeed.”

Tags: Sierra Rose Taming The Bad Boy Billionaire Billionaire Romance
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