The Billionaire's Assistant
“Good—then I get you all to myself.” He clinked his glass against mine, a row of perfect teeth sparkling in the soft lamplight. “To chance encounters. May they always—”
Now both phones were buzzing. Egging each other on as my purse began to shake.
My smile tightened, but I deliberately ignored them—locking eyes with Cameron.
Keep talking, buddy. Just keep talking.
In his defense, he really did try.
“May they always—”
A third phone added to the clamor. Between the three of them, we were starting to draw a bit of attention. It looked like they were trying to shake their way out of my bag.
“You really can answer,” he said graciously. “I don’t mind.”
That’s sweet, but this little social experiment is hardly about you.
“No,” I said firmly—more firmly than was required. “This is my night off. Everyone knows it. There was a memo, for fuck’s sake. They’ll just have to get by—”
The fourth and final phone made a loud entrance into the fray. This one actually didn’t have a vibrate setting—as it was only meant to be used for emergency calls. A digitalized song cut the air between us, ruining Cameron’s attempted toast once and for all.
‘It’s raining men! Hallelujah! It’s raining men—’
“There’s that ringtone...”
“I’m so sorry!” I reached hastily down into my purse and began snapping them off, one by one. “It’s usually not like this—I swear.”
Work life—private life. Work life—private life. I chanted the mantra desperately in my head as the phones fought back. There has to be a line! I deserve a fucking line, dammit!
Cameron nodded politely, looking like he didn’t believe me in the slightest.
“Sure.”
I turned the last one off—removing the SIM cards for good measure—and the infuriating buzzing finally stopped. Before the poor guy could get up and walk away, I reached for his hands, holding on like a life raft.
“Now,” I pulled in a determined breath, “you were saying?”
That’s when the fifth phone rang.
It was the holy grail of communication devices. A number so sacred that only two people in the entire world were aware of its existence. It had only ever rung twice.
“Cameron...” My shoulders wilted as a sinking feeling descended in my stomach. But he seemed to know it was coming. The napkin was already off his lap and on the table. He was already glancing around for the check. “I’m so sorry, but I think I’m going to have to—”
At that moment, everyone else’s phones started buzzing. As in, everyone else in the entire restaurant. The world of social media came alive with a million little dings and beeps, as people bent over their screens—faces lit up with that artificial glow.
“Oh my gosh!” the cry was echoed from all four corners of the building.
“I can’t believe it!”
“Look at the picture!”
“That can’t possibly be real.”
“Did you see what—”
And...that was my cue to go.
Nick, my boss, had officially fucked up my romantic night. My heels clicked on the tile as I snatched up my purse and bid my ‘almost suitor’ a hasty farewell. Ending my ‘almost date’ before it could really even get off the ground.