Billionaires Baby Snake

Lacey's POV:

My palms are sweaty, and my chest is heaving. I’m at a job interview in one of the biggest entertainment companies in Los Angeles, Markle Diamond Productions. The job position? Assistant to the big boss. Secretary something. I’m thirty-four and because of some family problems, meaning I had to take care of my only living parent, my dad, I’ve been away from the working field for the last four years. No, he’s not well and the money I own in my bank accounts are approaching the red line.

My dad is battling leukemia and the treatment is astronomical. When we first found out about his condition, it was already in advanced stages. His new surgery is due in six months and I need to work out the amount for it; a breakthrough treatment that is supposed to cure him, that costs around 150k dollars.

I don’t know what to believe anymore, but I love him more than myself and I’ll do anything that stands in my powers to hit opportunities and try them out for him to have a chance on life. Cure? At least for him to live longer and not suffer that much. I’m fine with that. He thinks the same. Yet, he’s at peace with either outcome. He has pleaded me several times to stop sacrificing myself for him as he doesn’t want to ruin my life. He has lived his, he says. I can’t do that.

So, if I get this job, I’ll be able to contract a loan or something to start paying the surgery and treatment. And the hell I won’t nail it. No one has more drive than I have for my dad to acquire this position. Besides the upcoming surgery and treatment, I also have overdue treatment and hospital fees of around 80k dollars. Yeah, life is good….

No, my dad is not at home any longer. I’ve enrolled him in a hospital stay as his condition requires that for the stage he has. It’s a private hospital focused on such cases and you can imagine how expensive all this is. On the other side, him being under hospital care, I can better find a job and tend to it while regularly visiting him there. Like daily.

The candidates are coming out from their interviews with pale or green faces. All women, with outstanding beauty and body, fit to the entertainment industry. I’m not that fit. No, I’m not ugly, but I’m a curvy girl. I can’t compete with these girls in terms of physical appearance. They are like walking down from a magazine or a movie.

Last one coming out…. “I can’t believe him!” She puffs and sends me a weird look as I’m last in line for the interview. “Well, if I didn’t get the job, you certainly won’t, fatty. Hmph!” And she walks out her heels making angry sounds on the floor to the elevator.

Fatty? I’m not fat. Ha-ha! But yes, I’m not skinny like the model you are. Anyways. I’m here for secretary position, not to appear in a movie. I should probably look for more job interviews though…. She might be right.

I release a sigh and intend to fish out my phone from my purse, but the woman calling in the interviewees has just called my name. Oh boy…. Here we go. Whatever happens, happens.