Page 70 of The Billionaire's Wake-up-call Girl

I’d like to call him a few new names now. I can’t believe he spilled the details to Sasha!

“So I guess that’ll wake a guy up.”

“I should think so!”

I toy with the hem of my shapeless dress. “When I realized he was on the line, I thought for sure I’d be fired. When he came down here and called it unorthodox, you could’ve knocked me over with a feather.” When I look up, she’s beaming at me. “You’re really not mad?”

She snorts. “It’s a little bit funny, you have to admit.” I’m stunned. I never thought she had much of a sense of humor. “So he enjoyed that?” she asks.

I look down, uncomfortable with her weird interest. “I don’t know that he enjoyed it. I don’t know, maybe he was more…surprised. Maybe he’s sick of everyone kissing his ass. I think his interest was more about curiosity. What kind of a wake-up caller says that? That’s why he didn’t fire the service. He’s a puzzle guy.”

She’s watching me intently. “Very true. Theo does not like a puzzle he can’t crack. So then what?”

I shrug. “It was just phone sex.” I’m done giving her details. I’m not an asshole like Mr. Drummond. Sure, maybe I gave Mia one juicy line, but Mr. Drummond gave Sasha the entire, un-cut, XXX-rated version! “One phone sex call is pretty much the same as the next.”

I feel this little whimper inside me, though. Because it really felt like more. To me, anyway.

I tell myself it’s an important lesson. I promised myself I wouldn’t trust a man after Mason, and what did I do? I trusted one. Such a fool.

She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “So that’s all?”

That’s all?It was a huge amount of sharing. “Yeah, that’s all.”

“Okay, then.” She pulls out her phone and taps the screen a few times, then puts it to her ear. “I need somebody up in marketing. No…no…there’s no problem, just an escort out of the building.”

Everything in the world seems to fall away. An escort?She called security?

Sasha clicks off. Gives me a hard stare. Every trace of warmth and humor is gone from her face. “I’m going to have to ask you to get your things and exit the building.”

“You said I wasn’t getting fired!”

“You can’t be fired; you’re not a real employee yet. You’re on probation, and that probationary period is now over.”

I stand. “Sasha, please. Tomorrow’s the last day for me to get my bonus. One day.”

“I’m sorry.” Sasha points a weapons-grade red fingernail in the direction where my cubicle is. “You were given an opportunity to do the most meaningful work of your life—”

“I did do meaningful work! Think of all the great work I did. The engagement numbers. The Instagram strategies. Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll work an extra week with no pay. I just need that bonus tomorrow.”

“The bonus is for employees who don’t commit fraud and pull the CEO into compromising situations. He could bring you up on charges of fraud and pandering.”

“What? No. It wasn’t like that.” I feel sick.

“No? Maybe it was all fun and games for you, but Mr. Drummond is angry and disgusted, and really, how could you blame him? He doesn’t want you calling him anymore. Not ever again. You contact him one more time and he reallywilllook into pursuing further action against you.”

My stomach feels queasy. Pursuing action against me? So he really was just toying with me, then? Teaching me a lesson? I can’t believe it. But why else divulge so much to Sasha?

She points at the door.

By some miracle I’m able to stand. I head across to my cubicle. I don’t pass go. I don’t get my twelve-thousand-dollar sign-on bonus. I don’t dance on my desk to Britney Spears while making microwave popcorn.

I grab my coat and bag and the fun notepads I defiantly bought. I mumble goodbye to a few of my other neighbors, who’ve popped up from their cubicles, looking alarmed and interested. I just shake my head and trudge up front. They’ll find out soon enough. Maybe Mr. Drummond will write it up for the Vossameer newsletter.

In a brave display of affection in this thankless place, Betsy gives me a big hug. I clutch onto her, more grateful than she’ll ever know.

Sasha and the security guy look on, like she might be passing me a shiv or something.

I spin around. Face Sasha. “I want to see Mr. Drummond.” I’ve decided I want to tell him he’s an asshole right to his face.

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