Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire (Single and Sassy in the city Book 2)

Ethan

‘The best way to get out of your funk is to go out and grab a drink.’ Jackson strums his fingers against my desk, and I look up at him irritably. There’s nothing I dislike more than when people tell me how to get out of a funk I’m not in.

‘Not your best idea.’ I look back down at the files on my desk. It will take me a good three to four hours to finish going through them. Then, I have to head to the gym and work out before heading home for bed. ‘I don’t want a drink, and I don’t want to be accosted by dozens of women as soon as I enter the bar.’

‘Since when?’

‘Since when what?’ I snap, giving him the evil eye. If I had a magic power that allowed me to shoot laser beams from my retinas, I would activate it now. ‘Don’t you have something else to do, Jackson, other than get on my nerves?’

‘Ooh, I’m getting on your nerves now?’ Jackson acts like he can’t believe what I’ve said. As if I haven’t said it a million times before now. ‘I think that is a definite sign that you need to leave the paperwork for the night and come out and grab a drink.’

‘Why do you want me to get a drink with you so much?’ I question him, my patience wearing thin. I do not want to be around giggling, flirtatious women, the entire evening telling me how amazing I am.

‘Maybe because you’re Mr. Popular?’ He shrugs. ‘And if you are popular, then I’m popular.’

‘You don’t need me to be popular,’ I say, looking at him in his expensive, crisp navy-blue suit. The top button of his shirt is undone, and I know that women will hurry over to him as soon as they see him. Jackson needs me as much as he needs a skunk to be popular.

‘Oh, come on, Ethan. I know you’re in a bad mood, but this is not going to make you feel better. Like I said we—’

‘We nothing,’ I growl.

‘Look here, old chap, let’s grab a drink. There’s this new bar that opened called the Owl and the Pussycat. We can check it out, then we can come back. Maybe we can even come up with a jingle ourselves. Todd Wayne never got back to you, right?’

‘No, he didn’t.’ I frown, wondering why the man never emailed me back.

‘So, then, I guess we come up with something.’

‘You and I come up with a jingle?’ I say stoically as I glance at him. ‘Copywriting isn’t really our wheelhouse.’

‘Well, I actually had an idea already.’

‘You did?’ I raise a single eyebrow and lean back in my leather chair. I tap my fingers against the solid wood desk and stare at him for a couple of seconds. ‘Go on, then.’

‘Go on what?’

‘Let me hear the jingle you created. Now.’

He walks toward me and takes a seat in the chair opposite the desk. Our eyes are locked and honed in on one another, almost as if we’re battling. I know I’m going to win. I always win. Be it a staring contest, an arm-wrestling match, or a mental showdown. I never lose.

‘Fine,’ he says, tapping his foot against the ground. I hold back a smile as I wait for him to sing the jingle he’s created.

He clears his throat and counts, ‘A one, a one, a one, two, three, four.’

He starts snapping his fingers, and I’m holding back laughter now. If there’s something about Jackson, it is that he always commits to what he’s going to do.

‘Get yourself some light,’ he sings. ‘Some beautiful lights. Do you want to feel like royalty, like the king and queen of France, or the king and queen of England, or the king and queen of your pants? Get yourself some lights. Get yourself some lights from Lord Chambers. He is not a stranger.’

I can’t stop myself; the laughter erupts from me. Jackson has a nice voice, but he’s not talented with his wordsmithery.

‘What? You don’t like it?’ He pouts like he’s wounded. I know he’s not.

‘I wouldn’t say I don’t like it, but I would say it’s kind of crap.’

‘Fine. Now, can we go grab a drink? You made me embarrass myself to get you to come out to the bar.’

‘Well, you chose to embarrass yourself,’ I say and then nod. ‘But fine, one drink, then I have to come back and work.’ I watch as he stands up, and we head toward the door. As we exit, I notice that Edith is long gone. However, the newspaper is still sitting there. I grab it from the desk and study my photo.

‘Where did they get this picture from anyway? I look like a douchebag.’

‘Women love douchebags though.’ Jackson watches as I throw the newspaper into the trash. ‘Isn’t that crazy?’ Jackson says as we make our way to the elevator.

‘What do you mean? Isn’t what crazy?’

‘That you hate the fact that lots of hot women want you? You’re totally in another world, aren’t you?’ he asks as we step inside the elevator, and he presses the button for the lobby. He leans back against the wall and checks something on his phone.

‘No, I’m not in another world. I’m just frustrated. I’ve called the newspaper several times. I’ve spoken to several different editors, including the editor in chief, and all of them have told me that I was put in the paper by popular demand. But really, who are these people who want me so badly? Who is voting for me to be the most eligible bachelor in New York City? The editor in chief said I come highly recommended each year.’

Jackson looks away from me, then, and my eyes narrow as he runs his fingers through his hair and taps his foot against the ground—telltale signs of some sort of guilt.

‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

‘What?’ he says in an innocent tone, and I can feel something clicking in my brain, but I’m not sure what.

‘You didn’t nominate me, did you?’

‘Me? Nominate you? Would I do such a thing?’

‘Yes. Yes, you would. I remember when we were getting our MBAs and you nominated me to be president of the tennis club.’

‘What, you liked to play tennis.’

‘I’ve played tennis ten times in my life. I could take it or leave it.’

‘But you were really good.’

‘No, I wasn’t.’

‘You were very sporty.’

‘I’m sporty, yes, and hey, I can hit the ball across the net. Didn’t mean I wanted to be the president of the tennis association.’

‘Well, you should have told me you didn’t want that job.’

‘I would’ve told you if I wanted it.’ I let out a deep sigh and press the stop button.

‘Oh, boy,’ Jackson says, folding his arms and focusing on me. ‘What is it?’

‘Tell me this. Did you, or did you not nominate me?’

‘I didn’t nominate you, but I may have told someone late one night that my best friend was really eligible and really rich and really good-looking. Not knowing that she would nominate you.’ He bows his head, but I can still see the knowing smirk. ‘In my defense, she was giving me the hand job of my dreams.’

‘Really, Jackson?’

‘Sorry,’ he says, his eyes light as if he’s remembering that night fondly. ‘But the good news is she hates me now, so it’s very unlikely that she’ll nominate you or put you in next year.’

‘I’ve been listed for the last five years. How long ago did you date this lady? What’s her name? How do I get in contact with her?’

‘To be honest, we were on and off for a couple of years. She liked to play, if you know what I mean. Ironically, her name was Primrose, but she went by Prim. I can see if I can find her number, if you want.’ He shrugs and presses the button for the elevator to continue. ‘Now, are we going to talk about this all night, Ethan, or are we just going to go out and have some fun?’

‘Whatever,’ I say. ‘I can’t believe Todd never got back to me. You haven’t heard from him?’

‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘By the way, one of the girls down there was trying to say something to you before you left.’

‘Oh?’ I stare at him. ‘Which girl?’

‘I don’t remember her name.’

‘I don’t remember seeing anyone. I just remember that guy, Dave, or whatever his name is. I’ve spoken to him before and I did not want to be there when he burst into song again.’ I shudder as I think about him.

‘That makes sense.’

We exit the elevator as it arrives at the first floor and walk through the white marble floor of the lobby. I notice several of my employees having hushed conversations as they notice me. I nod at several members of staff and continue to the door. I know that my employees both revere me and are scared of me, which is the way that it should be. They should love me and want to work well, but they should also be in fear that if they don’t do a good job, they will lose it. At least, that’s what I think is my leadership style. I’ve been going to a therapist who says that might not be the best way to treat my employees. I’m still thinking about whether or not I agree with her.

I step outside of the building and look over to the right. My chauffeur, Randy, is standing there and hurries over. ‘Good evening, Mr. Rosser. Good evening, Mr. Pruitt,’ he says as he turns to Jackson. ‘Am I driving you somewhere tonight or will you be walking?’

I look over at Jackson. ‘How far away is this bar you were talking about?’

‘It’s on the other side of the city,’ he says. ‘Randy, do you mind driving us? It’s a new bar called the Owl and the Pussycat.’

‘Not at all.’ Randy hurries toward the limo and opens the back door. ‘I’m here at your service, as always.’

‘Thank you, Randy,’ I say as I get into the back of the car. Jackson gets in beside me.

‘You want a whisky?’ he asks, opening the small fridge at the side. I nod, and he takes out a decanter with some of the finest Scottish whisky sold, pours me a glass, and makes one for himself.

‘It’s been a long day,’ he says, handing me the glass. ‘But I do have some good news.’

‘Okay, and that is?’

‘The manufacturing plants in Ohio are scheduled to be completed next month, so that’s a month ahead of schedule.’

‘We have enough people power to work them?’ I ask him, raising an eyebrow. ‘I thought HR said they were having a hard time finding qualified applicants.’

‘We haven’t gone into full-force yet, Ethan. We didn’t want to do that until we knew when we were going to officially open, but now we have a date. I will speak to someone in HR about contacting some more recruitment agencies to get the word out. Everyone needs jobs.’

‘But do people want to work the jobs?’

‘We pay three times minimum wage,’ he says. ‘We have excellent benefits. I don’t know why they wouldn’t.’

‘Yeah, I guess. Because that’s going to be of the utmost importance if we’re going to meet quotas.’ I pause as I see my phone ringing. It’s my granddad. ‘Hey, hold on. It’s Granddad.’

I answer the phone. ‘Hey, what’s up?’

‘Hi, Ethan. I was just speaking to your nana, and we were wondering if you’d like to come over to dinner tonight.’

‘It’s seven p.m., Grandpa.’

‘Oh, yes… Well, maybe not tonight. Maybe this weekend. Lunch.’

‘Yeah. Is everything okay? You sound weird.’

‘I’m not weird. I’m just…’ He pauses. ‘Hold on, your nana wants to speak to you.’

‘Okay,’ I say, sitting back, staring out the window at the lights as Randy drives us through the hustling and bustling streets of Manhattan.

‘Ethan, darling,’ my nana says in her sweet older voice. I wonder if she wants something.

‘Hi, Nana, how are you?’

‘Oh, darling, I saw the newspaper today.’ Of course.

‘And I assume you’re talking about the article?’ I say sarcastically. ‘Who knew I was so eligible?’

‘Yes, and I’ve had so many phone calls from so many of my friends with granddaughters who are also single. And I was thinking that…’

‘No, Nana.’ I cut her off because I know exactly what she’s going to say. She’s going to say that she wants to have a luncheon, and invite over a bunch of eligible women to see if I like any of them. As if I were Prince Charming and the luncheon was instead of a ball for me to find my Cinderella. Nana knows better than this. I’m not looking for a Cinderella. I’m not looking for a princess. I’m not looking for anyone.

‘But, Ethan.’

‘Nana.’

‘Oh, Ethan. You know how much I worry about you. I just…’

‘There’s no need to worry about me. I’m living my best life.’

‘But, darling, all you ever do is work, just like your grandfather. That’s why I made him quit and hand over the company to your dad.’

‘And we both know Dad ran it into the ground, Nana. That’s why I’m working so hard, remember? Because if I wasn’t, then you and Grandpa might be out in the streets and Mom and Dad might be out in the streets, and the thousands of people that work for Rosser International might be out in the streets, as well.’

‘You know we appreciate everything you’ve done to turn the company around and it is doing so well because of you and that Jackson, of course.’

‘I’ll let Jackson know,’ I say, glancing at my friend. He’s looking at something on his phone, but I can see the smile on his lips. I know he knows exactly what this call is about because, every year, Nana tries to do the same thing, and every year, I tell her no, I’m not interested.

‘Oh, but Ethan, I…’

‘Nana, Jackson and I actually just headed out somewhere. Can I give you a call back later?’

‘Well, you know what I would prefer?’

‘What’s that, Nana?’

‘If you would just come to Sunday lunch.’

‘I’ll come to Sunday lunch if you promise there won’t be any eligible women there.’

She lets out a deep sigh. ‘Fine, fine,’ she says again. ‘And you invite that friend Jackson of yours.’

‘I will. I’m sure he’d love to come, Nana. Love you.’

‘I love you, too, darling,’ she says.

We hang up, and I look back over at Jackson. ‘Nana wants you to come to lunch on Sunday.’

‘Ooh, I’m down,’ he says. ‘I love your nana’s cooking.’

‘I know.’

‘If your nana was younger and single, I totally would have married her.’

I roll my eyes. This is the hundredth time Jackson has said this to me and my nana. Nana loves it because he’s so handsome, which makes her blush, but I know it’s not true. Jackson, for all his talk, has no interest in getting married, either. He comes from a very wealthy family that is even more messed up than mine, and even though we don’t talk about his reasons why, I know that he also doesn’t believe in true love, and he also doesn’t believe in a happily ever after.

‘So, I was thinking,’ he says. ‘What about we change the company photo shoot from…’ He pauses. ‘Wait, where were we going again?’

‘I don’t think we actually decided on a place, but I was thinking Hawaii.’

‘Did you finalize which of the employees would be coming?’

‘Not yet,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘I did go around to the different offices with HR, but I guess, apparently, there’s been some complaints because I went into a couple of offices and immediately said no. And they think it was based on me looking for people I thought were good-looking so the photos would be filled with the ‘beautiful’ people who work for me. But I don’t see looks in the office. You know that.’

‘I know, because if you had, you would have totally noticed that smoking hot girl in copywriting that was trying to talk to you.’

‘What smoking hot girl? What are you talking about?’ I rack my brain to think about the different people I’d seen in copywriting. ‘There was that guy Dave, and then that old lady, and then that librarian-looking lady.’

‘Oh my gosh, Ethan. You totally didn’t check her out, did you?’

‘Um, no, and you’re telling me you did?’

‘She was smoking. Sure, she had her hair in a bun and those big glasses, but I looked into her eyes and she was really pretty. She had a pretty face. I mean, she needs a makeover or something, but…’

‘But nothing. You know you’re not allowed to sleep with or date anyone at the office.’

‘Well, I’m not interested in dating her,’ he says. ‘But one hot night?’ He smirks and puts his hands up as I glare at him. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to sleep with the hot girl in copywriting.’

‘You better not,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘Plus, I think maybe you need to get laid, because I don’t remember seeing any hot girl in copywriting.’ I shrug. ‘Are we nearly there yet, because I really do need to do some more work tonight.’

‘Don’t worry,’ he says. ‘We’ll be there in, like, ten minutes. We’ll have a drink or two and then you can go home and bust your ass.’

‘Uh-huh,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘You’re lucky that you’re my best friend or you would not be able to get away with half the stuff you say to me.’

‘But I am your best friend and I can,’ he says, winking at me. ‘And that’s why you just love having me as your CFO.’

‘Oh yeah,’ I say. ‘That’s why. You’re as welcome as a bullet in my head.’

Jackson throws his head back and starts laughing because we know we would be lost without each other, and I couldn’t run Rosser International without his help. Yes, sometimes I can be grumpy, but I know I wouldn’t want to do it alone.