GAME OF LUST WITH MR BILLIONAIRE'S

Why, oh why did I have to wear a white blouse? And why, oh why did I have to stumble up the stair with my blistering hot coffee and spill it on my shirt.

And why, oh why, did it have to be the day of my big meeting?

Of course with my dumbfounded luck, the elevators were out of order; and upon walking into the front of the editing part of the building, I was completely overthrown by the surprise of seeing that my office had been sent under random reconstruction.

Basically, my already small little complex in that back of the building was being cut in half. Our business had recently been expanded and I got the worst half of it. And yes, I was complaining.

Although I was thankful to be working for a quite successful and expanding Oil Incorporation in NYC that came with a decent paycheck, I was underestimated; no one saw me for my true potential. So far, my 5 years at the Buffalo Institute for Journalism had gone to waste; but I wasn't perturbed. I was perfectly content with writing semi-advanced articles and cracking jokes with the rest of the faculty about how our current boss, Ms. Newmort, looked like a falcon.

Today I just happened to have gotten called in early for this pointless meeting in which I was to take notes. Some multi-millionaire from Utah was trying to expand his hotel business and struck oil that was already owned by our company. They wanted to make an exchange for some of our oil. But what millionaire wants to live in Utah? And run a large and expansive hotel at that?

"Look who decided to finally show up to work." My boss had coarse unprofessional humor.

"I'm sorry, I got caught up in traffic and you know I don't have a car-" she stopped me, her blonde hair was slicked back in a high professional bun and her makeup was heavy. She looked like a clown.

"I don't care about your personal issues, hurry up and sign in. We're very busy today!" she exclaimed and walked past me, her heels making an annoying clash with the marble flooring. I held my half spilled coffee and closed my eyes.

"Don't mind her, she's mad cause man number 5 stood her up last night," my friend Amy told me.

Amy Blackwell was the most talkative female to ever walk the planet and probably the most influential. I met her in college.

"And how did you hear this?" I ask her, handing her my drink and making my way to my incredibly small ass cubicle in the back. It had one window and a small couch. Nothing I was too proud of.

"Randy told Beverly who told Willis who told Janet who told Daniel who-" I groan and stop her, "Who let me guess...who told you?" I ask finishing.

"Actually no. Daniel who told Heather who told Valerie.... Who then told me?" she said smiling and sitting on my desk as I signed into my account on my Mac computer. "And you're sure this is true?" I ask her, to be honest I completely honest, I really didn't care, but her rattling conversation was strangely making me feel better. Besides the entire staff was like a group of high school kids, always spreading rumors and it was fun to hear about. "We were just talking about it in the lounge.

Besides she always acts like this when she's been stood up." That was true. "Are you sure it isn't that Utah Hotel business guy that's coming?" I insist. My MacBook wouldn't open. The password must've been changed.

"Why would it be? Although, I did hear that we're getting a new manager," she spills and I almost leap with joy. "You mean Ms. Newmort is leaving?" I exclaim. My day just might have gotten better!

"No, basically like her right hand man, literally and I hear he is like a gorgeous piece of man." I dampen at the thought of having her still around. My day instantly returned back to shitty extreme. "Where did you hear this?" I ask wildly at her, still struggling to log in. "Phoebe told-"

"Never mind.

When does the meeting start?" I ask, sighing and looking down at my shirt. "In 20 minutes, oh, and another spill, don't worry, I have a pink flowered chiffon top that would match your pencil skirt. I have it in my office!" she tells me.

And this is why Amy was my best friend.

After changing my shirt and being yelled at by my irritating and dateless boss, I made it just in time to meet at a long table with a group of men. The room smelt of fresh apples and I seated myself close next to Ms. Newmort. Which reminded me, once again...I forgot to eat against this morning. In a way, I didn't forget, I just simply passed the idea.

All of the men were quite older but didn't look too bad for their age. Not that I was looking anyways. And I was sure as hell they weren't looking at me. "Good morning Mr. Carter. Pleasure to see you again." Ms. Newmort says, sitting back in her chair, as I scoot next to her with my notebook and pen out. Mr. Carter was a very attractive older man; his eyes were a deep dark brown, highlighted by perfect eyebrows. I noticed the wedding band on his ring finger and I smiled.

You can take the toilet paper out of your bra now Ms. Newmort he's married!

"Good morning, well let's not dilly-dally, I have another meeting at 9 so let's make this quick." Gee, Mr. Carter was a busy man and didn't play around. Maybe I should go work for him in the middle of nowhere in Utah.

"Very well, shall we discuss details?" Ms. Newmort flashes back, showing her fake smile that she doesn't even try to show to me.

Hoe.

I didn't even understand why I was here if all they needed to do was sign the contract? "I have my brightest and most successful assistant manager in exchange for just a quart of your oil." Just a quart? This man better be good. Mr. Carter continues, "My son, Elliot Carter Jr majored in business and finance with a minor in entrepreneurship.

A younger man then stands to his feet, his dark brown-feathered hair brushed across his face. Eyes deep and dark just like his fathers, with perfectly shaped eyebrows. He was surely a very 'gorgeous piece of man' as Amy stated earlier today. Maybe even better... Ms. Newmort took a liking to him, more than I did.

"A 2 year contracts with Mr. Elliot Carter in an exchange? Sounds moral enough," My already plotting boss mumbled. "If you will forgive me, but I always work with a personal assistant. It helps me execute my imposition." Mr. Elliot Carter Jr says. His voice is deep and powerful and holds intimidation. It makes me frown.

"That is perfectly fine. I already knew that though. Who would you like?" Ms. Newmort sounded as if she was going to throw herself out on the table.

Once again, I think: Hoe.

The most acclimated member of your staff. I'd like to help improve their skills as well," he says.

Oh Lord, that would be-

"Ms. Rayleen Banks has been here for over 3 years and shows no improvement since. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer someone more experienced?" she says motioning towards me in a disgusted manner. I want to slit her neck and destroy everything she loves. How dare she make a mockery of me! The men in the room all chuckle and shift in awkward humor. And I smile half-heartedly. This woman was lucky I found the Lord.

"Ms. Banks will do," Mr. Carter says waving his hand off, clearly, unamused.

"Now for the contract.

After twenty more minutes of discussion and contracts being exchanged, my job had been lifted to PA. I wouldn't lie, I was overwhelmed with happiness and Amy wasted no time telling me the latest news. "I heard you're the new PA for Mr. Carter," she says, raising her eyebrows at me. "I haven't even left the meeting yet. How the hell did you hear it?" I ask, waiting for the list of people she was to name.

"I eavesdropped by the door. Oh my God, just looking at him stimulated everything that needs to be stimulated!" she says giggling and I hit her arm as we walk to my office.

"Don't be so loud, you little nasty! You and Ms. Newmort share the same thoughts" I respond humorously. Ms. Newmort looked like she was getting ready to marry the man. Amy scoffs and rolls her eyes at me, "Please, no one wants her overused vagina anyways. He needs something fresh and-" I groan, and cover my face. She was so sexually morbid!

"Shut up! You're so nasty, now get out, I have work to do" I fib, knowing I haven't been instructed a thing since I signed the contract. I just need some time alone...the last few nights had been a little rough for me. But what else was new?

"Tell me, have you talked to him at least?" she asks me, hopping up on my table. "No. And I hope I don't have to for a while. He looks full of himself.," I say turning my face up. Despite the fact he looked like he should be posing for Rolling Stone cover magazine, he looked cocky nonetheless. And cocky was not attractive.

"Well I sure as hell would love to be full inside me..." Amy hums, gazing around the room innocently. I immediately pretend to vomit and turn away from her.

. "Shit, I'd be too if my father was a millionaire!" she says, kicking her leg up. "In Utah," I add scoffing. "So? He's a millionaire, a multi-millionaire at that!" She was so impressed by petty things, especially money. "Please, he probably will just do his damage and leave," I say simply, shrugging.

"Ahem," I hear a voice cleared behind me.

I almost choke on the cold coffee. It was my new boss. Elliot Carter! Amy's head shoots up and we all gaze at each other in silence. I can't even make out his expression. His face looks stern yet softened.

I have lost my job. I am jobless. I have been revoked from my jobbing privileges. I am so fired!

"Well, this is awkward," Amy, whispers, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

She finally rises to her feet, nods politely and is out the door; leaving me there. "Mr. Carter," I say nodding, and turning my attention towards the scribbled notes I took during the meeting which consisted of: 'I'm working for the new gorgeous piece of man!' and 'Why does my boss hate me so much? I'm shooting her car tires.'

"Ms. Banks," he says half-heartedly and walks towards my desk, his hand in his pockets. He smelt of spearmint and cologne. "I'm here to discuss expectations and requirements," he says. Oh Lord, this makes me feel sick to my stomach. Here we go.

"I expect you to be here at 6 am with coffee and have an extra print out of what we have done the previous day.

You will attend every out of the country or out of state meetings and have word-by-word notes on them. Are we clear?" he speaks so quickly I can barely keep up. Should I mention that I have terrible luck with coffee? Absolutely atrocious.

"But the building doesn't open until 6:30," I construe silently. Perhaps he didn't know since this since he was new to the building. " You know the code and have a key to your office don't you?" he asks matter-of-factly.

"Yes." My voice is silent and comes out a whisper. "Then you should have no problem coming in at 6." His tone irritates me and I grit my teeth. "Dandy, Mr. Carter. Anything else?" I ask. "Don't wear pink. Ever." he says annunciating his words.

The nerve of this man! I don't even want to comment.

I'm lucky he didn't even say anything about my smart remark about him moments before he came in the room. "Whatever you say sir," I reply forcing a smile. This was going to be a long contract.

It felt so good to be home. My cat Jinx was happy to see me, and she purred and entwined herself in my arms. I tossed my black heels to the side and lay on my bed, embracing her. "You must be lucky you don't have a big bad old boss to listen to, huh?" I say talking like a baby to her and cradling her close to me. "Don't worry. He'll get that long stick out of his ass soon," I say. I drift off to sleep, keen on getting at least a solid 8 hours of sleep before I had to carry out my duties for my megalomaniac boss.