I Choose You: A Secret Billionaire Romance

“Alicia...”

“Leave me alone, Jacob. I don't want anything to do with you.” I stormed past him to get in my waiting car. “You can get some other stupid girl to make your game for you.”

He winced and stepped back as if I had actually pushed him. I wished I could have beaten him with my fist. I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to wake up and find that this was a terrible dream.

But I knew it wasn't.

The man I loved was a lie. He didn't love me. He loved my game ideas, not me.

I managed to keep a strong face until I got in the car. The driver made it all the way to the end of the block before I burst out in tears and cried the rest of the way home.

Chapter 18

Monday morning came, and it took everything to crawl out of bed. My whole body hurt with heartache and all I wanted to do was sleep until I didn't need to cry anymore. It wasn't the way I had envisioned starting my dream job at ZephTech, but then nothing about the past three days had gone as I'd expected.

I blinked several times before standing up. My stomach was still lurching back and forth. Whatever stomach bug I had was still with me. The act of standing hadn’t helped any, but I ignored it as best I could as I lumbered into the shower.

The air was fiercely cold against my wet skin when I stepped out, a feeling that gave new energy to the wrench in my stomach. I took several deep breaths while I leaned over the toilet, hoping to prevent myself from falling back into a spiral of vomiting. Finally, I zombie-walked back into my room, the shower not having done anything to cure my exhaustion.

The lit up digits on the clock beside my bed suddenly caught my attention like fireworks in the sky; it was 8:45 AM, fifteen minutes before I was supposed to be at work.

I must’ve showered for longer than I thought. I threw my hair in a messy bun and scrambled to assemble an appropriate outfit. My dress paints were still sitting where I’d tossed them after work last Friday and I quickly threw them on, deciding no one would notice such a subtle detail.

It was 8:58 AM when I pulled into a spot at the edge of the ZephTech building parking lot, a rather miraculous accomplishment. This was my first day not arriving at least ten—usually fifteen—minutes early. Not a good look for your first day on the job, I thought. But considering that I was still wet and fighting off nausea fifteen minutes prior to today’s workday, this was probably the best I could’ve hoped for.

I hurried over to where the interns would meet every morning. No one was there now since I was the only surviving intern left. I sat down and waited for my boss.

“Mornin’ Alicia,” Steve Lynchell said, walking over to me. He was tall with short blond hair dark enough that it looked almost brown in the right lighting.

“Good morning, Mr. Lynchell,” I said, willing a smile onto my face despite the churn in my stomach. I couldn't believe I still didn't feel good.

“Come on, call me Steve,” he said. “I know you can do it.”

I giggled awkwardly.

He chuckled too. “Go on, give it a try.”

“Good morning, Steve,” I said.

“There you go. Much better.” He smiled at me. “You’re not an intern anymore.”

“I know,” I said, not really knowing how else to reply.

“You’re a permanent member of our team now,” he said.

“It’s good to be on the team,” I said. “Great to be on the team, actually.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that,” Steve Lynchell said. “Welcome to your first real day with ZephTech.” He did a sweeping sort of motion with his hand as he spoke.

“Thank you,” I said, and for a brief second my forced smile found a bit of authenticity.

“Head on over to my secretary's desk,” he told me. “She'll get you to fill out the necessary paperwork and she'll show you where your desk is. Welcome officially aboard.”

“Thank you, sir,” I replied. He frowned slightly. “I mean, thank you, Steve.”

He smiled and patted my shoulder before turning and making his way through the office to greet the rest of his employees. I felt another spout of nausea and fought it down, not wanting to run to the bathroom.

Everyone would probably think I’m hung over or something, I thought. And I couldn’t have that, especially not on my first day.