Page 33
Story: Hello Billionaire
He nodded eagerly. “I guess they’re starting some kind of outreach program at our high school and working with us to improve. My batting’s already way better, and it’s just been one day.”
I was so happy I could cry. “That’s amazing, Levi. I’m so happy for you. I can’t believe they decided to start it at Golden Valley and not somewhere closer to the stadium.”
Levi shrugged. “They said they knew someone here.”
12
Gage
Mia and I sat in my office going over notes from the week and the schedule for next week. We’d done this every Friday for the three years that she’d worked with me—her idea—and it had quickly become a ritual that helped us stay productive and manage my schedule better.
She looked at her laptop, reading over her notes. “Dr. Fletcher is coming next week for your annual checkup. Your stylist will also be going through your wardrobe to remove out-of-season items and replenish anything that has been worn out. Do you have any requests?”
“Yeah, I need some new cowboy boots.”
Mia raised her eyebrows. “Boots?” She knew I’d grown up on a ranch, but I think it still threw her since she’d never seen me in that arena.
“The Griffen sibling trail ride is coming up at the end of the summer. Want to be prepared.”
Scribbling sounds filled the air as she jotted down that note.
“Your nutritionist is going to take your weight and lab results and adjust the meal plan as needed. If you have any requests for certain meals, be sure to send them my way.”
“Will do,” I replied, taking a sip of the whiskey on my desk. Usually I didn’t work and drink, but Friday afternoons called for it. Especially since it had taken all my self-control to stay strictly professional with Farrah when my mind—and other body parts—were begging me to take things further.
“You have a press conference next week to announce your partnership with Jason Romero on the West Texas factory build.”
I poured myself another glass and topped off Mia’s. I hated talking to the press, but it was a necessary evil.
“Our C-suite meeting is next week as well, and looking ahead, the quarterly board meeting is next month.”
The liquid burned on the way down, and I nodded. “Got it.”
She took a sip of her drink and said, “Anything else for me?”
“Can you share your calendar with me again? It’s harder to coordinate while we’re in different locations, and I don’t want to interrupt you while you’re busy if I can help it.
“Very thoughtful,” she replied, tapping on her track pad. “Shared.”
An email pinged on my open laptop, and I clicked through to make sure I had access. The screen appeared, her calendar mostly mirroring mine with a few differences. My eyes immediately flicked to the line showing the current time.
“You need to get ready for drinks and dancing with... Farrah,” I said, my throat closing on her name.
“Can’t wear a pantsuit to the bar.” She grinned, lifting her glass. “Thanks for pregaming with me, boss man.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Don’t call me that.”
Standing, she said, “Okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”
“See you then,” I replied, settling in to play a little catch-up while the office was quiet.
But my mind kept drifting back to Mia’s calendar. The location for her meetup with Farrah was a bar I used to go to downtown when I was in college. It was rowdy, with a massive dance floor and a reputation for being a place to meet casual hookups.
I fucking hated the idea of Farrah going there and the guys that were sure to have their eyes, and maybe even their hands, all over her.
But that was none of my business. I was her boss, and what she did outside of business hours was none of my concern.
Except I couldn’t convince my racing thoughts of that. So I picked up my phone and called the only single guy I knew who would be up for a dumbass idea like the one going through my mind.
I was so happy I could cry. “That’s amazing, Levi. I’m so happy for you. I can’t believe they decided to start it at Golden Valley and not somewhere closer to the stadium.”
Levi shrugged. “They said they knew someone here.”
12
Gage
Mia and I sat in my office going over notes from the week and the schedule for next week. We’d done this every Friday for the three years that she’d worked with me—her idea—and it had quickly become a ritual that helped us stay productive and manage my schedule better.
She looked at her laptop, reading over her notes. “Dr. Fletcher is coming next week for your annual checkup. Your stylist will also be going through your wardrobe to remove out-of-season items and replenish anything that has been worn out. Do you have any requests?”
“Yeah, I need some new cowboy boots.”
Mia raised her eyebrows. “Boots?” She knew I’d grown up on a ranch, but I think it still threw her since she’d never seen me in that arena.
“The Griffen sibling trail ride is coming up at the end of the summer. Want to be prepared.”
Scribbling sounds filled the air as she jotted down that note.
“Your nutritionist is going to take your weight and lab results and adjust the meal plan as needed. If you have any requests for certain meals, be sure to send them my way.”
“Will do,” I replied, taking a sip of the whiskey on my desk. Usually I didn’t work and drink, but Friday afternoons called for it. Especially since it had taken all my self-control to stay strictly professional with Farrah when my mind—and other body parts—were begging me to take things further.
“You have a press conference next week to announce your partnership with Jason Romero on the West Texas factory build.”
I poured myself another glass and topped off Mia’s. I hated talking to the press, but it was a necessary evil.
“Our C-suite meeting is next week as well, and looking ahead, the quarterly board meeting is next month.”
The liquid burned on the way down, and I nodded. “Got it.”
She took a sip of her drink and said, “Anything else for me?”
“Can you share your calendar with me again? It’s harder to coordinate while we’re in different locations, and I don’t want to interrupt you while you’re busy if I can help it.
“Very thoughtful,” she replied, tapping on her track pad. “Shared.”
An email pinged on my open laptop, and I clicked through to make sure I had access. The screen appeared, her calendar mostly mirroring mine with a few differences. My eyes immediately flicked to the line showing the current time.
“You need to get ready for drinks and dancing with... Farrah,” I said, my throat closing on her name.
“Can’t wear a pantsuit to the bar.” She grinned, lifting her glass. “Thanks for pregaming with me, boss man.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Don’t call me that.”
Standing, she said, “Okay, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”
“See you then,” I replied, settling in to play a little catch-up while the office was quiet.
But my mind kept drifting back to Mia’s calendar. The location for her meetup with Farrah was a bar I used to go to downtown when I was in college. It was rowdy, with a massive dance floor and a reputation for being a place to meet casual hookups.
I fucking hated the idea of Farrah going there and the guys that were sure to have their eyes, and maybe even their hands, all over her.
But that was none of my business. I was her boss, and what she did outside of business hours was none of my concern.
Except I couldn’t convince my racing thoughts of that. So I picked up my phone and called the only single guy I knew who would be up for a dumbass idea like the one going through my mind.
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