Bad Boy Rich

“Oh my God! Milana, I am so sorry!”

Emerson tries to retrieve wipes from the diaper bag, pulling some out to clean my shirt as Lola cries out loud. I’m still in shock…the projectile sound still tormenting me.

“Emerson, it’s just a shirt. Take her to the doctor. Family first. I’ve got your meetings in my schedule so leave it with me, okay?”

She nods, almost on the verge of tears. “This single-parent thing is hard.”

I offer her a sympathetic smile, ignoring the smell of vomit on my shirt. I’m this close to dry heaving; keeping the lump in my throat at bay. “I’m sure if Lola’s daddy could be here, he would.”

“Yeah, I know.”

We walk back to the car and settle Lola into her seat while loading the rest of the stuff in. Emerson warns me about the business meeting I would attend this afternoon.

“Just listen to Jeff. He’s an excellent business manager and all you need to do is take notes.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t stress.”

After sitting in the car for over an hour, I was confident that the smell of baby puke no longer lingered or I had just become immune to it. I had sprayed my shirt over and over again, placing my jacket on once I exited the car, ignoring the sweltering heat. Thankfully, it had dried up in the car ride over and no longer clung to my skin.

The meeting was supposed to be s

hort, just her business manager and business partner. All I had to do was take down some key notes and bring back the contract. Easy.

The building is ultra-modern with a view of downtown LA. There are white leather lounges in the lobby, and bright paintings hung on almost every wall. One particular painting captures my attention. It looked like a big pink vagina and was probably worth a fortune. Again, LA people were weird.

I find my way to the elevator, and when it opens, it’s all gold. I press the number eight and wait patiently with the elevator music surrounding me. It doesn’t take long for my head to bop along to some familiar tune that sounds like a Barry Manilow song. It reminded me of Mom, she had this odd crush on Barry. And then my heart begins to ache, missing her like crazy. One week and I had spoken to her three times on the phone, each time for over an hour, chatting about trivial things, anything just to hear her voice.

The elevator slows down and dings as the door opens. I step out and see the reception desk instantly. There’s a young girl with enormous—albeit fake—tits smiling back at me. They are so large, I’m terrified they would burst in her teeny-tiny blouse.

Her platinum-blond hair is long; the same length as mine, falling just above her waist. On closer inspection, they appear to be extensions. Nothing is ever real in Hollywood.

“My name is Milana Milenov. I’m here to meet—”

“Oh yes.” She doesn’t allow me to finish, smiling while extending her hand out. “You’re Miss Chase’s assistant. Please, follow me.”

She quickly stands up, adjusting her skirt to an appropriate length and requests I follow. She’s wearing tall gold platform pumps. They make my pair of black ones look like I shopped in the grandma aisle in Target.

“Take a seat, please.”

We’re inside a boardroom. It’s small and uninteresting. I pull out a black leather chair and place my items on the table. My notebook, pen and laptop are ready for the meeting. There’s a glass of water in front of me. I take a small sip, careful not to smudge my lipstick on the glass.

“Miss Milenov.”

The water almost spits out of my mouth, and with a quick swallow, I stand up and greet the man standing by my side. “Yes, you must be Mr. Rich.”

“Oh, I’m flattered and wishful to be that young again.” He laughs; his grey bushy eyebrows bopping up and down. “Mr. Rich is running late, as usual. So, let’s get started.”

Mr. Ramsay had a background in business law. Having worked with lawyers for many years, I understood legal jargon being exposed to it almost every day.

“I must say Miss Milenov, it’s refreshing to work with someone that has legal knowledge. Have you considered studying a degree in law?”

“I did. It wasn’t my preference. I just sort of fell into an assistant role. I got a lot of exposure working with my former boss. She was quite a shark back home.”

“You’ve got a keen eye for detail. You managed to pick up inconsistencies in these contracts that my qualified staff haven’t been able to.”

I’m about to comment when the door swings open and my vision is met with a pair of tailored charcoal pants. They’re tapered in nice, paired with black shiny dress shoes that made his feet look huge. You know what they say…. I ignore Phoebe’s voice in my head and quickly scan the rest of his body without being too obvious, until our eyes meet.

It must be Mr. Rich. A very handsome man with a cleanly shaven face and strong jawline. The kinda jawline that made him look very burly and masculine. Even his hair is styled so perfectly, combed to the side like he just stepped off a photoshoot for a designer label.