Her Billionaire Boss by Gena Snow

Chapter 2

Nick

 

 

 

 

 

“Brea!” I shout toward my office door.

“Yes, sir?” my secretary, a woman in her mid-forties, answers timidly as she appears in the doorway.

“Where are the financial reports I asked for?”

“I emailed it to you, sir.”

“When? You sent me an email a minute ago, but there was nothing in it. Not even a word.”

“Oh, I probably forgot to attach the file. I’ll check. I’m so sorry.” She makes an attempt to rush out of the office but I call her back. “Brea. This is the third chance I’m giving you. If you messed it up again, you know what to expect.”

She looks terrified. “Please, sir, don’t fire me. I’ve got two kids to feed. My husband is on disability….”

I’ve heard the plea so many times that instead of sympathy, I feel annoyed. “I’m not firing you, but please, pay attention at work!”

“I will. I promise,” she says and sneaks out of the office.

I groan, knowing better than trusting her. I’ve caught her doing online shopping more than once. Obviously, inattentiveness is the reason for her poor job performance.

Why haven’t I fired her already? Why should I let her family problem stress me out? I need someone competent for what she’s doing. And Brea isn’t it.

Honestly, I’m not so generous. The truth is, if I fired Brea, I would have to hire someone else. That would be a hassle. And from experience, no one is perfect. Ok. Maybe I’m difficult to please, but ever since my last secretary Karen retired two years ago, I haven’t been able to find a replacement as good as her. Brea is the fifth secretary I’ve tried since Karen. She’s probably the worse, but she knows how to make me feel sorry for her, and I’m tired of firing people.

But it doesn’t lessen my frustration. Why do I keep getting incompetent fools? They just don’t take their jobs seriously. If they can get away from earning their salaries with minimal work, they will do it.

That’s why I have to shout at my employees and make myself look like an ass.

I feel sorry for shouting at Brea, but I tell myself I’m only doing my job. I’m the boss here, and it’s my duty to run the place smoothly. I tried to be a buddy to my employees in my younger days, and it didn’t work. Fear, not friendship, gets work done.

A minute later, Brea’s email comes in, and I click it open. It’s the financial statement of Valley Mall.

I’ve just acquired the mall a month ago, knowing it isn’t doing well. The location isn’t great. It’s at the outskirt of the town and far from the freeway. The town residents know about it, but outsiders and travelers don’t.

I rack my brain for a plan that’ll bring more customers here without hurting the business of the other mall. The good thing is the two locations don’t have the same stores. While some healthy competition can’t be avoided, at least there wouldn’t be any cannibalism.

 

I’m still looking when Brea calls, telling me someone is here to see me.

“Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t available?”

“But she’s from Style.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Let her wait,” I say.

Half an hour later, I’ve forgotten the fact altogether. I call Brea and blame her for something else. And then I glance at the door, and see Harper, my sister-in-law’s sister, stares at me with a scornful look.

Shit. She hasn’t changed at all. Still looks so sassy and defiant. I recall the slap she gave me at her sister’s wedding. It still stings —not that I didn’t deserve it.

“Why didn’t you tell me she’s here to see me?” I say to Brea.

“B—but I did, sir, you said she should wait.”

“You didn’t tell me who she is.”

“I did. She’s from Style, the shoe store downstairs.”

Crap. I roll my eyes. “Brea, I’ve acquired a dozen stores. How am I supposed to remember all their names? You could’ve clarified!”

Brea blinks. “I’m sorry but how could you not know Style? It’s the best shoe store in town.”

I sign dramatically, but before I speak again, Harper rolls her eyes and interrupts. “Please, Mr. Alton. I don’t mind waiting at all. I got a chance to rest.”

She isn’t smiling, which tells me she means the opposite of what she says. She is doing Brea a favor by making the declaration.

“Very well,” I say to her. “Please come into my office.”

While Harper makes her entrance, I say to Brea, “At least you could’ve told me her name.”

“I...I’ll do that next time, sir.”

 

“You didn’t have to shout at her,” Harper says as soon as I close my office door behind us.

“Excuse me? Did you just tell me how to do my job?” I say in disbelief—what a disrespectful, infuriating woman.

“Sorry,” she says, but she doesn’t look sorry at all. In fact, she looks like she doesn’t want to be here. Wait. I’ve expected it, haven’t I?

“Remind me why you’re here again?” I ask, knowing perfectly well why.

Seven months ago, at my brother Tristan’s wedding, I told Harper to work for me, and I even gave her my business card with my number written on it. Even though she made it clear she wouldn’t work for me, I still couldn’t help waiting for her to call. But she hasn’t called even once. I never saw her again, but I never forgot her either.

That slap pissed me off. Never in my life did anyone hit me in public, not to mention a woman. I still don’t understand why she did that because her face was inviting, and she moaned when I kissed her.

I intended to push the matter aside, but then opportunity rose. Valley Mall wasn’t doing well and was looking for a buyer. Under much consideration, I purchased it. Not only that, I bought out some of the stores that were going under. The store Harper worked at was one of them. And then, I went one step further and promoted her to the mall management office, hoping she was ambitious enough to take the offer despite her dislike for me.

It probably sounds childish, but yes, I promoted Harper to spite her.

I wait for her to speak.

“I’m here because you made me.”

I chuckle. “I promoted you.”

“So what do I do?” she asks. “To my understanding, I’m the property manager’s assistant, but Brea told me there isn’t any property manager here.”

“True,” I say. “Because I fired her yesterday.”

Her mouth opens as she frowns. “So I guess I won’t be needed?”

“Wrong. You’ll stay here and do the job of a property manager before I find someone to fill the position.”

Her mouth opens. “O-kay. What do I do, then?”

Good question. I don’t have any idea, but I quickly get one. “You’ll start with organizing a sales event for the mall that’ll bring outsiders to the mall.  Come up with a plan by tomorrow.”

“What do you mean by outsiders?”

“People who live outside of Alton.”

“Oh. Is it like a storewide sale?”

“Could be it. But it doesn’t have to be. Cultural or entertainment events will work, too. It’s your job to come up with an idea,” I say. “And if I okayed it, you’d go ahead and organize it.”

“When do you want it to happen?”

“As soon as possible. Make it on the Fourth of July.”

“In two weeks?” she frowns.

I consider. We have a tight schedule, but I don’t want to let go of the perfect occasion. “That’s plenty of time, isn’t it?” 

“So I’m an event planner now?” she says with a frown, looking apprehensive rather than excited.

“Yes,” I say with a smirk. “Like I said, I was impressed by how well you organized Tristan’s wedding. So I’m sure you can handle this.”

She presses her lips together while gazing at the wall behind me, and then she nods. “Will do.”