Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 8: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Eight

There is a tap at the door; Francis silently enters with a tray bearing a coffee pot and two cups, sets it down on the coffee table and just as silently, departs.

I gulp, then ask, “How did you know my address to send the things?”

“I asked the driver I sent you home with last night to make a note of it, and aren’t you forgetting? You wrote your resignation letter on my laptop. Your address was on the letter too.” He hesitates. “That’s not a good address, Elizabeth. Not a safe place for a single girl to live.” He pauses. “I am assuming you are single? No jealous husband out there?”

I shake my head.

“Boyfriend?”

I shake my head again. “I’ve been working so hard. My job and my studies …”

He nods in satisfaction. “Of course. Good. That’s one potential problem dealt with then. Now … and I must ask you this …” He leans forward, closer to me. “Are you still happy with our arrangement? You need to tell me.”

I nod, my mouth a little dry. “Yes, you’ve done everything you promised so far. I’ll keep my end of the bargain.”

He nods his head in approval. “Perfect answer, Elizabeth. Yes, I always keep my promises, and I deliver my end of any agreement. It’s good to know that you see it that way too.”

“Won’t people think it a bit odd that I suddenly appear like this? Out of the blue? It’s not as though I had an interview or anything.”

He laughs. “I think you did rather well at your interview last night, Elizabeth. As for people thinking it odd, no, they won’t. I have a number of employees who I met outside of normal channels and have offered them a job.”

He sees my expression and laughs. “No, not quite like you and I met, and no, not with the same agreement. But, Francis out there, for example, my personal assistant, I met her on a train. She was reading the business pages of her newspaper, quite unusual in a woman, if you don’t mind me saying so. We started talking about her views on equities and a city merger that was coming up. She was working as a waitress—all that potential going to waste. I hired her on the spot. A good personal assistant needs to understand the business of her employer. So, no, don’t worry, the staff here know that I choose employees for my own reasons.”

more reassured. “So, what happens

you to HR. They’ll take you through the usual formalities, and then we’ll put you through the usual intern routine. You will spend time in every department of the company: finance,

other duties—when you finish here for the day, you will go home and put on the clothes you will find waiting for you. Wear your hair

I’m not sure what

Haswell. When I take you out to dinner, I am Richard. In

“Yes, Mr Haswell.”

He buzzes the intercom again. “Francis, can you take Elizabeth to

office, and talked through rules and procedures. By five-thirty

tatty lobby. Dashing up to

standing whilst wearing them, I might be taller. Or perhaps not, as he is well over six feet tall. And, I

in a far more daring cut than I would normally wear. Another skirt, this one a wraparound style, and I notice it’s cut for easy access. The list goes on, and I am

twisting this way and that, trying to see myself from all angles in the stained mirror. Eventually, I make my choice, adding only a small necklace from my own things—a glass dewdrop on a silver

and gloriously high salary, I

to take the lift, behaving as though I have every right to do so. Then it dawns on me. I do have every right

over there.” I turn to see him pointing, then recognition dawns across his face and his polite talk to the guests face turns into a scowl. “Beth! What the fuck do you think you’re doing? First, you don’t turn up

stick in my throat. I wrote my resignation letter. Surely Richard would

me to

truth. “I’m sorry, Ricardo, and please tell Mr Chambers so, but

into the office. I’ll tell Mr

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