The Billionaire Offer Read online

  “It’s been such a long week for you, and it’s only Thursday. Let me loosen you up.” It would be so damn easy to say yes. To be weak just this one time. Okay, second time with her.

  But I knew better now. Sleeping with someone you had to work with was shit, especially if that person was literally one of the only three people on the planet who had unlimited access to you anytime, night or day.

  Jannie had keys to my office and my apartment. She had my personal number and knew the emergency code I used with my family to know when I really needed to take a call. I stood up abruptly when I felt her palms close on my shoulders, her fingers digging into my muscles.

  “You can leave, Jannie. I don’t need to loosen up.” Bullshit.

  I’d never needed to loosen up more. My shoulder blades ached, and my spine felt like it’d been fused straight. I wasn’t made for this suit-wearing shit.

  Jack grew up groomed for this life, not me. I was the younger brother. The corner office was never meant to be mine.

  Meant to be or not, it was mine now.

  I strode to the corner of Jack’s, no, my office, where two massive panels of glass met to create a nearly unobstructed view of the city that never slept. Thousands of people swarmed the streets and sidewalk below, so damn tiny from up here on the fortieth floor of Williams Towers.

  I felt rather than heard Jannie come up behind me. The telltale crack of her heels muted by the lush carpet beneath our feet. “Come on, Jer. We had so much fun together. We were good together. We can be again.”

  Shit. She wasn’t going to give up. She was more aggressive than usual today. Maybe the smell of fresh coffee wafting down the hall turned her on. I had to shut her down, pronto. “We hooked up one night three years ago at a retreat. Let’s not pretend it was more than it was.”

  In the reflection of the window, I saw Jannie pout before putting one of her hands on my bicep. “It was more than that. I felt it. Didn’t you?”

  “No.” Fuck, even I knew I was pulling a dick move by being so blunt with her. I didn’t feel too bad about it though. I had tried to let her down easy.

  The retreat we got together at was before I was working for my father’s company full time. Before Jack’s accident. Before everything changed.

  Now, I had to be careful. I’d been lectured about sexual harassment in the workplace time and time again. The press would have a fucking field day if I got charged. The headlines practically wrote themselves.

  Jer Williams: New York’s favorite player now Playing in a Boardroom near you.

  Billionaire bad boy Jeremiah W. still the worst.

  Jeremiah’s no Jack, the party’s only changed its venue.

  Hell no. I’d had enough of that shit to last a lifetime. I didn’t mind the media so much back in the day. It was an inescapable consequence of being born a Williams in New York City, but since Jack’s death… I was done with it.

  I was going to have to let Jannie go. That was the only way.

  She walked her fingers up my arm from my bicep, watching my jaw tighten in the window. “Somebody’s a tense boy. You’re only saying you didn’t feel it now because you’re stressed, baby. Let me help you relax. I can—”

  The door to my office hit the wall behind it. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. There was only one person in this building who would make an entrance like that.

  Dad’s in the building.

  “The only thing you can do, young lady, is to pack your shit and get out. You’re fired,” he said to Jannie. His tone was measured, controlled and almost lazy, yet laced with quiet venom. Like a spitting cobra. “You have until eleven to get out of the building. Pick up your final check from human resources in the morning.”

  Jannie paled, going white as one of the sheets of paper lying in the printer on my desk. “Sir, let me expl—”

  My father reached for the knot on his tie, extending his neck first one way then the other. “No need to explain. The secretary coming on to the boss, I’ve seen it a thousand times. A million maybe. Unfortunately, pawing at my son right in front of me crossed the line.”

  Her hand fell from my arm, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. She dared a glance at me, and seeing I wasn’t going to defend her, a choked sob escaped her throat. She rushed from the office.

  My dad sank onto the white leather couch in the corner, flicking his tie as he crossed an ankle over his knee. “That girl was going to cause trouble for you.”

  “I know, thanks for getting rid of her. I was just about to do it.”

  He nodded. “You haven’t had to deal with employee issues much yet. As you take on more responsibility, you’re going to have to learn how to rip off the Band-Aid and send them packing when the time comes.”

  “I can do that.” I didn’t want to, but I could.

  “Your brother didn’t like it much either, but such is life. When the going gets tough...”

  “The tough go drinking?” I suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

  My father chuckled, shaking his head. “The tough get the job done. Then they go drinking.”

  “Got it.” Opening my desk drawer, I pulled out a bottle of Peron and two tumblers. After pouring a few fingers into each one, I handed one tumbler to my father and settled on the couch across from him. “Since you’ve gotten the job done, I assumed you wanted the drink now.”

  “Thanks.” He held his glass up, tipped his head at me and drank down half of it in one swallow. “He would’ve been proud of you.”

  Rarely did I see my dad like this anymore. We didn’t often have the time or the inclination to relax, have heart to hearts or talk about Jack. “I haven’t really done much to be proud of.”

  I wasn’t fishing for compliments or trying to be modest. Everything I’d worked on since joining the company were long-term projects of Jack’s I’d inherited. I’d seen most of them through now, but I couldn’t take credit for simply building—literally in some cases—on the foundations my brother left behind.

  If I knew my dad though, he wasn’t here to help me with secretarial problems, to shoot the breeze or to reminisce. A minute later, he proved me right. “I don’t agree. You’ve shown some real growth in the last year or so. So much that I think you’re ready to face some new challenges.”

  “I am.” No hesitation, because I was ready. At least, I thought I was. They might’ve been my brother’s projects, but I learned a lot from finishing what he started. I felt like it was time for me to spread my wings. Flex my newfound business muscles, so to speak.

  “Good. I’m putting you in charge of the new mall acquisition in Times Square I mentioned at the last board meeting.”

  Fuck. I wasn’t ready to spread my wings that far. Also, it was too much of a heavyweight to test my new muscles out on. The mall was a sprawling complex currently belonging to one of our biggest competitors.

  Dad wanted it, but the owners didn’t want to let it go. Especially not to us.

  I took a swig of my drink, focusing on the smooth liquid and the way it warmed my insides on the way down. Not the harsh burn of cheapskate liquor, but the slow heat that didn’t knock your breath away.

  Lifting my eyes to my dad’s, as dark as my own, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was kidding with me. “Uh, Dad? Seriously? You want me to run point on that right now?”

  In another year or so, maybe I could’ve seen that happening. But an acquisition the size of this one to essentially cut my teeth on?

  Without so much as blinking, my dad answered. “Absolutely. Find a good team and get busy.”

  “Okay, but—”

  He finished off his drink and pushed to his feet, his dark stare fixed on the skyline and the setting sun outside before moving back to mine. “No buts. You’re ready for this, Jer. The stuff you don’t know yet, you’ll figure out, or you’ll get the right people on your team to deal with it.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.” I wouldn’t let him see how much this freaked me out. I didn’t even have a godd
amn secretary. How the hell was I supposed to put a team together? And then what the fuck was my first move once I had a team?

  “I’ll leave you to it.” My father set his empty glass down nearly without a sound and gave me a final nod before leaving my office.

  “He’ll leave me to it. Just great.” I rubbed my hand up and down through the hair at the back of my head. Rolling my neck, I let my eyes drift to the ceiling as I thought.

  My first move would’ve been to get my secretary in here and ask her to get me anything she could on the mall and all the official paperwork from Dad’s office, but I didn’t have a secretary. Which also meant I needed to start interviewing for a new secretary.

  “Fuck.” Okay, I didn’t have a secretary, but I did have Neil. He would know what to do. He was Jack’s best friend, started with the company at the same time my brother did.

  A degree in business from Harvard, being both smart and savvy, and having impeccable taste in friends had earned him a position as one of my father’s top advisers at the ripe old age of thirty. The guy worked his way up from the bottom with Jack at lightning speed.

  He also happened to be half the reason either Jack or I made our way through school at all. If there was one place to start building a team, it was with Neil.

  “What’s up?” he asked, picking up his office phone on the first ring despite it being long past closing time.

  I gave him a quick update, causing him to blow out a long, low whistle when I was done. “That’s big, Jer. Congrats.”

  “First things first. I need a new secretary.”

  “Agreed,” he said. “Want me to make a few calls to the agencies we usually use?”

  “Yes, let’s start interviewing on Monday.”

  “You got it.”

  “Just make sure she’s unattractive and married, please. Something to help me not get my dick in another trap.”

  Neil laughed. He knew all about Jannie. “You, my friend, lead with your dick. You’ll always end up screaming uncle.”

  “At least I make sure they always scream my name in the end,” I deadpanned, then got serious again. “Monday, bud. I need to get this ball rolling. Just choose the one with the smallest rack and the biggest ring.”

  Chapter 3

  STEPHANIE

  “Excuse me, honey.” I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Are you an angel, because you look divine.”

  Bursting out laughing, I pivoted to see which of my friends from work was playing the fool today.

  My laughter stopped abruptly when I turned to find it wasn’t a friend who had spoken at all, but what looked like a customer. An older, creepy looking customer who also didn’t look like he was kidding at all. I blurted out, “Oh, my god.”

  “Not him,” the man said, his eyes running down the length of my body slowly. “But I can make you call his name later if you want.”

  Then he winked at me. Like not the playful, cute wink some guys give. Or the devilish, sexy wink of others. Not even the sweet, “I made a funny” grandfatherly wink that would’ve suited this guy much better. But an exaggerated, completely unnecessary “I’m insinuating we’re going to go bang now” wink.

  Was that even what people his age called it, banging? Or was it shagging? Smashing? Urg.

  “I’m sorry, sir.” I smiled sweetly, just in case Tim, the bookstore manager, was still around. “I’m not religious.”

  He squinted at me like he couldn’t believe I didn’t get what he was really asking me. I ignored him. I didn’t want to make him feel bad. The old guy had balls for approaching a much younger woman.

  But getting hit on by Father Time wasn’t my thing. I didn’t feel bad enough to continue his flirtation. Even imagining what a night on the town with this guy would be like gave me the heebie-jeebies. It would be like a date with a crypt keeper. Eeeewww!

  Actually, come to think of it, he kind of looked like a crypt keeper. Slicked back hair, crooked, hooked nose, tufts of gray hair peeking out of his ears.

  He cleared his throat, his beady eyes caught on my boobs, even though they were covered fully by the uniform I was wearing at work. “How about I buy you dinner tonight, angel?”

  “I’m afraid I already have plans.” I wondered if adding grandpa like he had angel would be too insulting and decided against it. Grandpas were usually lovely people, I heard. “If you’ll excuse me.”

  Hurrying away, I left the older man standing near the display I was arranging in the window. Some or other new movie series based on novels was starting at the cinemas this weekend. Tim wanted the novels clearly visible from outside to draw in customers, but that would have to wait until Father Time over there got a move on.

  Jenny was in the bakery section of the store, munching on a donut while pouring over a fashion magazine open on the counter in front of her. We’d become good friends, having started at the bookstore within a month of each other.

  “I just got offered dinner by that vintage gentlemen over there.”

  She looked up from the magazine, a smile threatening on her lips. “Vintage, huh? That’s one way of saying it. I saw him watching you for a while, probably working up the nerve to talk to you. He’s not that old.”

  “Are you kidding? He could’ve gone to school with Cleopatra.”

  The smile she was trying to fight broke free, along with a giggle. “Yeah, but he’s not old enough to have played follow the leader with Moses.”

  “Or for the big bang to have been the sound of his cherry popping, but plenty old enough.” My eyes dropped to her magazine. “I bet those girls get hit on by the modern-day princes and kings, not the ones well past their best-before dates.”

  Jenny’s gaze followed mine to the scantily clad models advertising jeans and nudity in the spread she had the magazine open to. “I’m pretty sure they get hit on by the full spectrum.”

  “I could never look like them,” I lamented.

  Jenny laughed. “That’s because you’ve eaten this year. They haven’t.”

  “It’s not my fault food tastes as good as it does.”

  “It’s also nutritious and necessary to keep us alive,” Jenny pointed out. “Besides, you don’t need to look like them to be beautiful. You’re gorgeous. You just got hit on.”

  Smiling, I rolled my eyes. “By a guy who could’ve lived next door to Fred Flintstone. Is Tim still here? He asked me to keep an eye on things once he left?”

  “He gone for the day,” she told me, dangling something imaginary. “You’re in charge now. Here are the keys to the castle.”

  “Why thank you.” I pretended to take them and curtsied before heading to the manager’s office. The store was running damn slow today. We hadn’t made a single sale on my shift yet. It should pick up in a couple of hours, but I had some time before I would be needed out on the floor again.

  Deciding to take the time to do something productive, I pulled out my phone and opened my browser. If I was going to get a job at one of Mr. Williams’ businesses, I had to start looking for one.

  I promised Tiana I would do it, and I intended on keeping my promise. Even ahead of schedule. I was going to figure it all out on Monday. But now that I’d made the decision to at least try to get in at one of the biggest companies in the city, I was eager to get started.

  Tim’s desk was neat and organized, an old wooden thing that wobbled when you touched it. Careful not to disturb any of his stacks of papers or have the picture of his family fall over, I made myself at home.

  The chair creaked as I sat down in it, joining the occasional squeaks of the mostly ineffective overhead fan. I scrolled through my phone, my optimism and positivity taking a nosedive when I saw there were almost no vacancies listed on any of the company’s website pages.

  The only position I could find was personal secretary to Mr. Jeremiah Williams. Even though the ad had only been posted a couple of hours ago, it already had an intimidating amount of views. Wriggling my nose, I spotted Tim’s black-framed glasses lying next to his keyboard.


  I slipped them on just as Jenny walked into the small manager’s office. “Does this make me look like a secretary?”

  Jenny’s lips quirked into a smile as her eyes darted playfully around the room. “If I say yes, are there hidden cameras mounted in here? Are you trying to fulfill some kind of secretarial porn fantasy?”

  “No, but that is what it sounds like, isn’t it?” I let out a long huff, gently pulling the glasses from my face and placing them back exactly where I found them. “A four-year degree in business, losing the respect of my family, and now I’m going to help some rich boy make his dinner dates and babysit his calendar. I mean fuck. Really?”

  Jenny shrugged. “Life is what happens while we’re making other plans. As for that stuff with your family, they’ll come around. You’ve been unhappy and unfulfilled here since day one. If it takes helping the rich guy make dinner dates for a while for you to work your way up, is that really the worst thing?”

  Not the worst, no. Certainly not as bad as working here in the bookstore. At least working for Williams, there had to be opportunity for growth. The companies were big enough. At the bookstore, I would never go anywhere. I couldn’t. There was nowhere to go here.

  I shook my head and lowered my gaze back down to my phone. I knew Jeremiah Williams only by name. Though we’d both grown up in the city, we didn’t run in even almost the same circles.

  The Williams family was splattered across the local tabloids occasionally, but they weren’t celebrities or anything. People were interested in them because they were loaded and connected, but it wasn’t like there were websites tracking their moves or anything. Not that I knew of, anyway.

  From what little I remembered reading about Jeremiah over the years, he was the youngest of Jance Williams’s two sons. He was known to be a cocky, arrogant partier who hadn’t shown much interest in the business side of the Williams empire until his brother’s accident.

  Working for him wouldn’t be anything like the serious, corporate environment I wanted to work myself up in, but it was a start. Besides, how hard could managing his dates and making sure there was a VIP section cordoned off for him in clubs every night really be?