A Billionaire's Love Affair Page 5

  I pushed aside the thoughts of stripping her out of that too-big coat and getting my hands on her. That was not what this was. Nope. This was about doing something good for the city. I needed to keep that at the forefront. The foundation was my priority.

  Chapter 7

  Maisie

  I felt like death warmed over. I was so damn cold. I hoped I wasn’t coming down with something. My mom always said you couldn’t catch a cold from the cold, but I wasn’t so sure. I sneezed as if to prove my mother wrong.

  The bus pulled to a stop. We got off and started down the road to our house. “My feet feel like lead,” I complained.

  “Mine too. On my next check, I’m going to buy some of those warm hiking socks. If my feet are warm, I can stand out there all day.”

  “Me too,” I muttered. “And gloves.”

  “We definitely need to be better prepared.”

  We walked into the house and headed straight toward the living room that was to our right. I carefully draped the coat over a chair that was not exactly used for sitting and was more about looking pretty. The old house was fancy back in its heyday and pretty big really. We enjoyed trying to fill every space. It had a sitting room, parlor, formal dining room, and a decent-sized kitchen with very few outlets. The house had been only moderately updated in the hundred years or so since it had been built.

  We walked to the stove, pulling off our scarves and jackets. It was like moths to a flame. We held our hands out. As we rounded the corner, Evan and Bruno both sat up on the couch. Evan’s hair was messed, and Bruno’s shirt was undone.

  “Don’t mind us,” Donna said. “We are too cold to care what you are doing on that couch.”

  “You guys are home late,” Evan said.

  “It was a long day,” I said. I moved to sit down in the ugliest chair in the world. It was one of the first things Evan and I found when we moved to New York City from Florida. It was old as dirt. Probably circa nineteen sixty with the orange velvet fabric that had some very questionable stains.

  “You look cold,” Bruno said. “I’ll make you guys some cocoa.”

  “Spike mine,” Donna said.

  I untied the laces on my boots and kicked them off. “I’m so damn cold.”

  “Two hot toddies coming up,” Bruno called back from the kitchen.

  “Girls,” Evan said and jumped up from the couch and clapped his hands together. “Guess what I got today?”

  “How about you just tell us?” Donna answered.

  “You’re no fun.” He walked into the kitchen and came back with a large glass bowl. “I got us a punch bowl!”

  I raised an eyebrow. “A punch bowl? I wasn’t aware we were looking for one.”

  “I stopped by our favorite thrift store and they had this bad boy in the free pile! Isn’t it awesome? Look, it has cups and little hook things.”

  “What are we supposed to do with a punch bowl?” Donna asked.

  “When we throw a party, say for St. Patrick’s Day, we can serve punch in a pretty bowl.”

  I was still confused. “Punch? Since when do you or anyone drink punch?”

  “Not punch, something alcohol related. Like jungle juice or something fruity. Come on. It’s fun and quirky.”

  I stood up and got close to the fire once again. I turned around, warming my backside while I looked around the room. I liked our home. It was filled with furniture that no one else wanted. Most of it was free, but some of it we actually paid for. Not new but used. It was eclectic with no real theme. It was just a combination of whatever we could find.

  “Guess what happened to Maisie today?” Donna said.

  I looked at her, wondering what story she was going to tell. There was the one that involved me getting into a shouting match with some dumb young yuppy or getting my foot stomped on.

  “Uh, I thought you didn’t like guessing games,” Evan shot back.

  “Maisie not only got to meet Colt Bancroft, but he also bought her a cup of coffee.”

  Evan’s mouth dropped open. “No way. Shut up. You are full of shit!”

  “It wasn’t that big of a deal,” I said.

  “You seriously met him!” he squealed.

  “It wasn’t like a meeting thing. I ran into him. I actually ran into him and fell on my ass. His chest was the equivalent of a brick wall.”

  Bruno groaned. “You fell on your ass? How embarrassing.”

  “You’re telling me. If I hadn’t been so cold, I would have been mortified.”

  “That’s not the best part,” Donna continued.

  “Donna,” I groaned.

  “Tell us!” Evan exclaimed.

  “He wants to give her a job.”

  “He didn’t say he wanted to give me a job,” I corrected. “He asked me to go by his office to discuss the job.”

  “He’s going to write a check to the charity of her choosing just for showing up,” Donna added.

  “No way!” Bruno said. He carried a cup of hot chocolate spiked with Tennessee whiskey and handed it to me.

  I took it, blowing on it before taking a tentative sip. “It’s good. Thank you.”

  “Tell us about this job. What is it?”

  “I don’t know. He never actually told me. He just said he wanted to talk to me about it.”

  “We saw an article in the paper on the way over there,” Donna said. “It was something about a new foundation.”

  “I have to know!” Evan exclaimed. He grabbed his phone and quickly started tapping away. “The fourth in line to the Bancroft fortune has kicked off the family’s new adventure into the charity world in a big way. Colt Bancroft is looking forward to using his family name to garner donations from the many connections he has made all around the world.”

  “It’s more fluff,” I said. “It’s all about how great he is and yada, yada, yada. You know how these foundations work. They have eighty percent overhead, and by the time they are done paying their inflated salaries and the catering bills, they have like five percent to give to the charities they claim to support.”

  “But what if he hired you?” Bruno said. “You could change that. You could cut the fat and put more money into charity.”

  “He probably wants me to be his gopher. There is no way a man like him is going to give someone like me a meaningful job.”

  “You never know,” Donna said. “Maybe you impressed him.”

  “I didn’t do anything to impress him. I fell on my ass. That’s it. That’s not exactly worthy of a job.”

  “I’m looking up the foundation right now,” Evan said with his face glued to his screen. “I want to see what jobs they have open.”

  I was curious and waited to see what he found. “Well?” I asked.

  “Nothing. It’s got a list of roles, but they all look to be filled. I don’t see anything about vacant positions.”

  I tried not to be disappointed, but I was a little. I should have known it was never going to happen. Things like that didn’t happen to girls like me.

  “See,” I said, raising my chin. “He probably thinks he can woo me with his wealth, and I’ll let him have sex with me. That’s what his kind thinks. They flash some cash, and women fall into their arms.”

  “You’re thinking very highly of yourself,” Donna said. “Did you get the impression he wanted to take you to bed?”

  “No, but if there was actually a job, wouldn’t it be on the site?”

  “Maybe it’s a job he isn’t advertising,” Evan suggested.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right. He’s flexing his power.”

  “Maisie, stop and think,” Bruno said. “If you go to that interview and he does give you a job, it could be huge. Even if you are his assistant or his coffee-fetcher, you could make an impact on the decisions he makes.”

  “Why would he listen to me? I’m nobody. He’s probably got a slew of people that are experts in something or other.”

  “He asked you to go into his office for a reason,” Bruno replied. “What
’s the worst that could happen? He offers you a job? He asks you out on a date?”

  “I would date him,” Evan said.

  Bruno scowled at him. “I’m right here.”

  “Oh babe, you know I would never leave you, but if I were in her very single shoes, I would so date him.”

  “Me too,” Donna said. “He’s hot. Like really hot.”

  “You know I cannot stand men like him,” I said.

  “You don’t know men like him,” she pointed out.

  “I’ve seen them in action. I don’t want to know men like that.”

  “How much is he going to pay you to interview?” Evan asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t say. He just said he would make it worth my while.”

  “He gave her his coat,” Donna blurted out.

  “He didn’t give me the coat. I was cold and he put it around me. He left in a hurry and forgot it.”

  Evan jumped up and walked to where Donna pointed out the coat. He picked it up, rubbing his hand over the brown fabric. He lifted it to his nose and smelled it. “Cashmere,” he breathed. He held it up and looked at the label. “Dior. Damn it must be good to be rich.”

  “That coat costs more than you make in three months,” Donna warned.

  Evan very carefully put it back. “You have to go. You have to return this coat. And collect a check for at least hearing him out. Just think what you could do with the money. He’s not exactly broke. He’s not going to offer you fifty bucks. It’s going to be at least a hundred, probably five hundred. Thirty minutes of your day spent listening to him is going to do much more for the kids than standing out in the cold for six hours.”

  They all knew exactly where to hit. “You guys suck.”

  Donna grinned. “You’ll do it?”

  “I don’t really have anything to wear.”

  Evan and Donna exchanged a look. “Makeover!” they said in unison.

  I just knew my day had gone from rough to worse. “I’ll make more drinks,” Bruno said as I was being pushed upstairs.

  “Make mine a double,” I called.

  I found myself stripped down to my bra and underwear. I felt like a doll. They put on one outfit after another. There was no point in resisting. I had zero fashion sense and never really bothered with the whole act of gussying up.

  “Guys, why are we going through this?” I complained. “He’s supposed to be offering me a job. I feel like I’m purposely trying to pimp myself out.”

  “Hey, if putting on a short skirt and a little makeup gets the kids a cash donation, isn’t it worth it?” Donna asked.

  “You are really playing this kid thing up, you know?” I snapped as I raised my arms to have yet another shirt pulled off. “You are hitting way below the belt and I don’t think I like it.”

  “You are going to look ravishing,” Evan said. “If he doesn’t give you the job, he’s at least going to remember your name.”

  “He doesn’t know my name” I said.

  “He will tomorrow, and I doubt he is going to forget it.”

  We spent the next hour digging through her closet and my own. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, our difference in size meant I could not wear most of her clothes. She was bustier than me and a good four inches taller.

  “I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed,” I said finally. “Thank you for your efforts to make me look good.”

  “It wasn’t an effort,” Evan said. “But you really should dress up more often. You’re stunning when you get rid of those bulky clothes. Show off your assets, woman.”

  “That is not how you get taken seriously,” I countered. “I want people listening to me, not looking at my boobs.”

  “Don’t forget your ass. You’ve got ass for days.”

  “Evan, are you sure you’re gay?” Donna teased.

  Evan winked. “Maisie is about the only woman to ever tempt me.”

  “I heard that!” Bruno said as he stepped into the doorway of my room.

  We all burst into laughter.

  I shook my head. “I’m out of here. I am not involved in any of this.”

  Chapter 8

  Colt

  “Thank you so much for coming,” I said to the young woman who had just interviewed for the charity manager position.

  “Will I be hearing from you soon?” she asked with a bright smile.

  “If we decide to move forward, we’ll give you a call.”

  I did my best to let her down easy, but she wasn’t the one. She was a step above the others I’d interviewed, but I was still not feeling the passion I was looking for. I wasn’t sure I ever would.

  I was ruined. I wanted only one person for the job, and I had no idea if she was going to show up at all.

  I opened my office door to walk the woman out. I had tunnel vision. I didn’t want to look at the other hopefuls. “Thank you for coming,” I said again as I opened the heavy glass door that opened to the hall.

  I walked her to the elevator and pushed the button. I wasn’t going to hire her, but I was a gentleman. With her tucked onto the elevator, I went back to my office. I took a moment to steel myself for the next interviews.

  I pulled open the door, walking into the clean, sleek office. The reception desk sat empty. The position was filled, and the woman would start next week. Until then, it was just me and one other person working in the office. I took a moment to adjust the vase filled with fresh flowers that sat on top of the reception desk. It brightened up the cool gray and black of the lobby area.

  I turned to the seating area with three people sitting and waiting for me. I barely glanced at them until I saw her.

  I had to take a second look. It was her! Halle-fucking-lujah. She showed up.

  Her eyes met mine, a hint of defiance in them. I smiled at her, feeling a series of butterflies in my stomach. It was an unfamiliar feeling. I was not used to being nervous around anyone, especially a woman. I pointed at her. I couldn’t call her into my office. I didn’t know her name.

  She stood with my coat draped over her arm. It had worked. “Me?” she asked with a nervous smile.

  “Yes, please.”

  I took a second to notice her attire. She was wearing a short black skirt with black nylons and a pair of black ankle boots with a short heel. She wore a simple black turtleneck that hugged her ample chest and her flat stomach. She had on a black blazer as well. She looked like the perfect corporate lawyer. I noticed she was wearing a little makeup. Not much but her lashes were longer and fuller and her full lips had a clear sheen.

  Damn, she was prettier than I initially thought. “In here,” I said and gestured for her to go into my office.

  Yes, I was an asshole and wanted to check out her ass. I suspected she knew it. She glanced over her shoulder at me and caught me blatantly looking. She didn’t scowl at me, which I took as a good sign.

  “Have a seat,” I said. “I’ll take my coat.”

  “You left it on purpose, didn’t you?” she said.

  I hung it up before taking my seat. “Yes,” I answered honestly.

  “That was crafty.”

  “I feel kind of ridiculous, but I didn’t ask your name.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Will you tell me your name? I feel like I’m at a disadvantage.”

  She smiled and I was certain she wasn’t going to tell me. “Maisie Atwood.”

  “Maisie,” I said, letting the word roll off my tongue. “I like it. Unique.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “It suits you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

  She raised a dark eyebrow. “And? What have you decided?”

  “About?”

  “Me. You’ve judged me. Do I get to know the verdict?”

  “I think you are a dedicated, driven person.”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “So, Maisie, tell me. What is it you do wit
h your free time?”

  She shrugged. “You saw what I do. I spend my time doing what I can to help with the marginalized communities. I do all I can to help the poverty stricken. My free time isn’t my own. In fact, if I’m not at work, I’m doing activism. And unfortunately, I’ve often made the mistake of choosing my activism over working. I’m stretched a little thin, which is why I am here.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I want to know what you can do for me.”

  She was definitely feisty. “What I can do for you,” I said with a smile, folding my hands together. She was turning the tables. I liked that.

  “Yes. You said you wanted to talk to me about a job. What’s the job? If you got me down here to ask me to fetch coffee for you or to pick up your dry cleaning, you can forget it. I’m worth more than that.”

  “I don’t want you fetching coffee. I want you to be my charity manager. I’m not entirely sure that’s the exact job title but something along those lines.”

  “A charity manager? What does that entail?”

  “I want someone to help me choose what charities my foundation supports. I want someone who knows what it is like on the ground. I got the impression you’ve been doing this for a while. You know what it is like on the front lines. I need someone like you to help direct our funds to the right places.”

  “I do know what charities are in desperate need. I know which ones are a lot of lip service.”

  “And that is exactly what I am looking for.”

  “I’m not looking for a job.”

  I smiled. “Yes, you are. That’s why you’re here. You said as much.”

  “A job doing what I love would be great, but I have some things I’d like to make very clear.”

  She was making demands. I really liked this girl’s gumption. “All right, what would you like?”

  “I want free rein. I have been doing this for almost ten years. I know where the neediest people live. I know what they need. It isn’t always food and it isn’t always warm coats. They all need different things. I cannot stand people like—” She stopped before finishing her sentence.