Billionaire's Second Chance

“Where’s your new job?”

I pretended I didn’t hear him and got into my car. He went around and stood on the sidewalk, directing me as I tried to navigate my way out; the person behind me had parked way too close. I tried to ignore Noah in the side view mirror, but it was impossible because I needed to look in the mirror to make sure that I wasn’t going to clip the car. The thing was, I’d never been good at parallel parking, and I ended up watching his hand signals to help me get out of the spot.

“Thanks,” I said, putting the window down a little bit. I knew it would be better not to even acknowledge him, but he had helped me, and my good manners wouldn’t allow me to leave without saying something.

He grinned. “Don’t even mention it! Glad I could be here to help. I’ll call you!” he yelled as I drove off. Only when he was a tiny speck in my rearview mirror did I let out a sigh of relief.

But my relief was short-lived because then I stopped to get coffee. I went back and forth over whether or not I should get Ian a coffee, too. On one hand, he probably had already gotten himself one (or three, he seemed like the type who probably consumed many caffeinated beverages), or he had a coffee maker there or something. I tried to recall if I had seen one when I’d been on the interview, but I’d been too nervous to really take in any of my surroundings. And if I didn’t bring coffee, and he hadn’t had one, it would look rude. I stood there in line, the cashier staring at me, waiting for my reply to his question of: “Is that all?” as the line behind me grew longer. So I got a second one, even though the second I had the hot cup in my hand, I knew that he’d already have a coffee of his own.

But whatever. I could save the second coffee to drink later (although if I did I’d be super jittery—one big cup like this was about all I could handle). Or I could just dump it down the drain, which would be wasteful, but . . .

I shook my head as I walked into the building, trying to clear my mind of these ridiculous, pinballing thoughts. I just needed to focus on doing a good job, and showing Ian that he hadn’t made a mistake in giving me a chance. I still couldn’t be sure why he had changed his mind, but I wasn’t going to question it. And I certainly didn’t want to make him question it.

So I walked into the office, clutching the two cups of coffee, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. You can handle this, I told myself. This is nothing that you haven’t done before.

He was standing right there, though, leaning against someone’s desk, talking to a guy I didn’t recognize. He looked gorgeous, was my first thought, which made me blush. The last thing I needed was to get some stupid crush on my new boss, just because he happened to be the best-looking man I could ever remember seeing. Not that it mattered if I liked him anyway; guys like him didn’t go for girls like me.

“They’ll be there this weekend,” the guy was saying to Ian, “so we’ll have to make sure we’ve got a few extra guys on.”

Ian nodded, his gaze flickering over to me. “Billionaire tech guy from Dubai; of course we’re going to have a lot of tourists on that one; I don’t care how quiet Seamus wants to try to keep it. Thanks, Dan.”

Ian clapped him on the shoulder, and Dan turned to leave, walking past me.

“Hey,” he said.

“Dan, this is Annie’s replacement,” Ian said.

Dan turned so he walking backward down the hall. “Nice to meet you, Annie’s replacement,” he said. “Good luck keeping this one in line.”

“Ha ha, funny sonofabitch,” Ian said. He folded his arms across his chest. “Good morning, Daisy. I see you come bearing gifts. Or you’ve got an insatiable caffeine habit.”

“I . . . I got you coffee,” I said, thrusting the cup out to him. Right as I did so, I saw Jonathan turn the same corner that Dan had just disappeared around and walk toward us, a smile on his face. I let go of the coffee cup, thinking that Ian had a grasp on it, but he must not have because once I let go, the cup fell, the lid came off, and coffee exploded everywhere, a little bit getting onto me, but mostly onto Ian.

“What the fuck?!” he shouted, jumping back. “That shit’s hot!”

“Whoa,” Jonathan said, rushing over. “What happened? Everyone okay?”

“Oh my god,” I said. I looked around for a place to put my own coffee cup and set it down on the desk, next to an unwieldy stack of papers. “I’m so sorry. I thought you had it. I’m so, so sorry!”

He had a grimace on his face, and for a second, I thought he was going to tell me that I was fired. But instead, he looked at Jonathan, and he started to hobble off. “I’ve got to change these pants,” he said. “And probably go get treated for second-degree burns while I’m at it. She’s all yours, Jay. Show her the rope

s.” He shot a look in my direction. “That’s quite the way to make a first impression.”

“I . . . I . . . I’m so sorry.” That’s the only thing I could seem to say. I felt mortified; I knew that my face was probably beet red and my voice sounded shaky. I wanted to say something else, but Ian was already walking off, presumably toward the bathroom. I looked at Jonathan. “He’s so mad at me, isn’t he?” I said.

Jonathan had an affable smile on his face. He didn’t look too concerned. “He’ll be fine,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Ian’s tough.”

“I know, but that coffee was so hot and . . .” I looked at the desk where my cup was still sitting. I hadn’t brought one for Jonathan. “I’m sorry—I didn’t bring one for you, too.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “I already had some this morning. Really, don’t worry about Ian. He’s been through way worse. He’ll get over it. Come on, let’s get started.”

I glanced over my shoulder in the direction Ian had just stalked off in. I hoped Jonathan was right—that he really was fine and he’d get over it—but even if that was the case, I knew I wasn’t going to get any gold star in the first impressions category.

Chapter Three

Ian

For fuck’s sake.