by Anna Lewis
“Imagica,” she whispered. “I think we should name her Imagica.”
Swollen with joy, the prince burst into a fit of tears as he laid kisses upon his girls, the stress fading away as he realized his fate had come to fruition. The beautiful family sat for a moment to rest before being moved to another room in order to sleep, nursing their new baby girl with love and affection. It would be the ending of Amelia’s earthly existence, but the beginning of her happy life with the amazing otherworldly prince who was no longer a blundering fool, but a happy one. This joy would carry him through his life and he would bestow it upon each child they had after Imagica, populating their planet with love and strength that would eventually permeate the universe.
THE END
= Bonus Book 13 of 16 =
Bargaining with the Billionaire
Book 1
“Can you do anything right, or is gross incompetence your thing?” the male voice sneered in her ear, almost making her jump out of her skin.
Shawna Jones pushed a strand of wavy blonde hair that had fallen from her bun out of her face and tucked it behind her ear in a nervous gesture before she continued typing. She’d been working on the document all day and had even skipped lunch, but the workload was impossible, and once again, Richard Lange was yelling at her in the middle of the bullpen, belittling her for anyone and everyone to hear.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she said, angry at how her voice shook but she needed this job.
Shawna couldn’t go back to flipping burgers and barely making ends meet. This job had been a godsend and there was no way she could go back to the life she once led.
She didn’t stop typing, her fingers tapping out the keys quickly, but not quickly enough. It didn’t matter that her back was sore at the end of a nine-hour day without a break, and she didn’t care that she was supposed to get off work thirty minutes before. She had to finish the job he gave her or else she would be canned. He’d made that clear daily since she’d landed the job six months before.
“I can’t take any more of your crap,” Richard ground out, his voice menacing and loud enough for everyone to hear.
Shawna’s back went rigid and she held her breath.
Please don’t fire me, she thought, fighting back tears. Please.
Richard’s hand swept across her desk, wiping everything that wasn’t the computer off the desk and onto the floor in a grand, sweeping gesture.
“There, I started the packing process for you. Get your things and get out. We’ll send your last check to you tomorrow.”
“I’m almost done,” she said, typing even though she was trembling so badly that she started mistyping.
“Don’t make me have you escorted out of here,” he said.
He sounded amused, and with a sick feeling, she realized that he was getting excited humiliating her in front of everyone. She wanted to cry but she refused to give him the satisfaction. She stood, rolling over his foot as she pushed back the chair and doing her best not to laugh as he howled in pain.
He yelled, and she ducked, grabbing her purse out of the drawer and running out of the large office as fast as she could, the tears flowing before she got on the elevator.
She could still hear him cursing her name when the doors closed, and she was thankful that there was no one on the elevator to see her shame.
Why would there be anyone on the elevator? The only department that stays for hours after closing time was the secretary pool.
Everyone else clocked out right at five o’clock, the employees of Furst Industries smiling as they left, just like they were when they arrived in the morning. The company had a reputation for taking care of its people; except for its lowest paid, entry level workers. People like Shawna worked long and hard with the bare minimum in benefits and Shawna hadn’t seen anyone crack a smile in the bullpen for days. Just like everywhere else Shawna had ever been, there were those that made a killing, and those that broke their backs for the rich to get richer. Hiring on at Furst Industries hadn’t changed her status in life, it had just improved her bank account.
But she didn’t work for Furst Industries anymore, and now she was going to have to spend Friday searching frantically for a job and hoping that she had something lined up for Monday morning. She would miss a full day of pay, but if she could find something, then she could work through the gap in pay.
At least then, she wouldn’t lose her apartment and her car. She had some savings, but it wouldn’t hold her for more than a month. She needed to find work fast, and she needed to have a job by next week or she was screwed.
***
Shawna woke up the next morning feeling positive, the warm spring sun filtering in through her window as the city of Dallas woke up and greeted the day.
Shawna had lived in one part of Dallas or another all her life. At twenty-two, she had lived more than most people she knew, and her tenacity and persistence were borne of a desire to get out of the poverty she had been born into. With steel resolve, she got up and made a quick breakfast, then started calling every business that had an ad online looking for employees.
By the time she took a break for lunch she realized that getting a job like the one she’d had at Furst was going to be nearly impossible. Every conversation had gone about the same. They started out cordial, but when she discussed her reason for leaving Furst Industries, the tone changed and the once friendly voice on the line was suddenly ending the call as quickly as possible.
Shawna hung up the phone, sighing heavily and fighting back tears. This wasn’t working out like she thought it would; she hadn’t even gotten past the phone interview to land an in-person interview.
Her phone rang and her stomach clenched when Furst Industries came up on the caller id. She answered it, holding her breath after she said “hello” and hoping it wasn’t Richard Lange.
“Miss Jones?” a female voice asked warmly.
“Speaking,” she said, closing her eyes and grimacing at how weak her voice sounded.
Grow a backbone, Shawna, she thought angrily.
“I need you to come in and pick up your last check and sign a few papers.”
“I thought you would send it to me,” she said.
“No,” the woman said, sounding confused. “The check that posted to your account at midnight this morning was already deposited before you were let go. But the payment for this week and your accrued sick days and vacation hours was cut today and you’ll need to pick that up in person.”
“Sick days and vacation hours?” she repeated.
“Yes. You didn’t take any sick days and even though you hadn’t reached your one year anniversary so that you could take your vacation, you still accrued hours that we are required to pay you by law.”
“Can I ask how much it is?”
“The entire check or just the accrued hours?”
“The entire check.”
“Two thousand fifty-seven dollars and fourteen cents.”
Shawna sat down hard in her chair.
“What?” she said, not believing what she was hearing.
“You only worked four days, so your payment for the week was only six seventeen fourteen, then you had a week of vacation at seven hundred and twenty dollars and a week of sick days available, which also came out to seven hundred and twenty dollars. All of this is after tax, of course, which is why it sounds a little low. Unfortunately, you didn’t qualify for severance pay since you were let go for job performance.”
Shawna ignored the last sentence, her smile too big for her to care. The check they were giving her was almost three times what she usually made in a week. Plus, she’d forgotten that today was her weekly payday, bringing the grand total to just under twenty-eight hundred dollars. She had time to find a job, though she wasn’t going to waste precious time throwing herself a pity party. But she could rest today and this weekend, then hit the job search hard on Monday. She still didn’t have a job and she was going to have to find a way to spin getting fired, but she had s
ome room to breathe, and that made all the difference in the world.
“When can you come in?” the woman asked patiently.
“I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“See you then,” the woman said, then hung up the phone.
Shawna hopped into the shower and got dressed quickly, heading out the door with her hair still wet and hanging down her back in loose waves. As she got into her car she checked out her reflection in the mirror and almost laughed. Richard Lange required a strict, stereotypical secretary look for his floor, and he detested loose hair. She wouldn’t have to see him, because Human Resources was one floor up from where she had worked. But knowing that she was breaking the rules felt good, and for the first time since she walked out of those doors the night before, she felt like herself again.
She drove down I-35, and headed to Furst Industries, excited to collect her check and trying to get herself pumped up for her fresh start.
You’ve got this, Shawna Jones, she told herself.
She was going to own this change of plans and turn it into something better than she’d ever imagined.
***
“You’re all done,” the woman said, smiling kindly at Shawna as she gathered the last of the papers that Shawna had to sign before she left.
“And my check?”
“Oh, you’ll get that after your exit interview with Eric.”
“Eric?”
“Eric Furst,” she said. “You know, the President of the company?”
“What? Why?” Shawna asked, panicking suddenly.
“Don’t worry about it. Eric likes to do exit interviews personally. He wants to make sure that this is the best place to work and he wants to know why people leave.”
“I got fired.”
“He knows that. But knowing why you weren’t able to succeed at this company can help him improve training and mentoring programs in the future. It’s really not a big deal, but he won’t give you your check until you meet with him.”
The woman pointed to an elevator at the other end of the room.
“You can take that elevator. It only goes to his office.”
Shawna nodded, feeling like she was the lamb going to slaughter but there was nothing that she could do about it. She needed that money and Eric Furst was the only person standing between her and walking out that door with what amounted to almost a month’s worth of paychecks.
She stepped onto the elevator and immediately regretted her casual look and her loose hair. No doubt Richard had told Eric Furst that Shawna was unprofessional and a waste of space. She hadn’t meant to show up looking like the part.
The elevator dinged long before she was ready, and she stopped off the elevator car and straight into a large office with an empty desk.
He’s not even here.
A door opened behind the large desk just as she had those thoughts and a young-looking man with short brown hair and hazel eyes looked at her and waved her in.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m between personal assistants right now and I’m having to greet my own visitors.”
She followed him through the door, then almost gasped aloud when she walked into a huge room that looked like a page straight out of a magazine.
“Nice, right?” he said, gesturing to a chair across from him.
He sat on a low sofa and only a coffee table sat between them. She was hoping for the large desk off to her left, but apparently, Eric Furst liked to be a lot less formal.
“So, I hear you’re leaving us, and I wanted to find out why that is,” he started, offering her a cup of coffee, which she waved off.
“I got fired,” she said.
“I knew that,” Eric said, his eyes twinkling. “I guess I was hoping for some insight about what you think we could do better to help support someone like you in the future. I don’t like losing employees, even when they’re,” he paused, looking down at a piece of paper and reading, “‘grossly incompetent.’”
Shawna sighed. She didn’t want to have this conversation, but she also didn’t want him to think that she was all the things that Richard likely accused her of being. Her pride wouldn’t let her admit to being useless when she wasn’t.
“I’m not incompetent. I might not be the fastest typist, or the best secretary, but I busted my ass every day and I worked so much overtime without so much as a thank you.”
“We don’t do overtime at Furst Industries,” Eric interrupted. “I like my people to have a healthy work-life balance.”
“Well, no one told Richard,” she said, feeling bold.
“I’ll have to look into it,” he said, and Shawna rolled her eyes before she caught herself. “You don’t believe me?” he said, his expression amused rather than angry.”
“People make promises that they don’t intend to keep, and since I’m leaving, you have no reason to follow up.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “But I am going to follow up, just so you know. What about your time here outside of your experience with the things you’ve mentioned. How did you like working here?”
“I loved it,” she said.
“That’s good to hear. Where did you work before?”
Her stomach dropped. She knew that he could probably look that information up, but for some reason, she didn’t want to admit to him that she’d been working fast food jobs since her parents died when she was sixteen. Alone and with no one to help her, she’d worked full-time and continued paying on the old ramshackle house that they had lived in her entire life. When the landlord found out that she was living there alone just after her eighteenth birthday, he’d kicked her out without much fanfare and bulldozed the old house to make room for a small apartment complex.
It was a painful memory and she didn’t want to rehash that for this man who had never been through what she had.
“I see I’ve hit a nerve. You don’t have to answer that. Anything outside of here isn’t my business and you don’t owe me your story.”
His gentle smile and the softness of his voice soothed the pain the memories had brought up in that instant and she knew that he wasn’t angry at her reticence.
Why couldn’t I have worked for him? she thought, wishing things had been different. She would still have a job if she worked for Eric.
“I have figured out what you did wrong and why you’re no longer working with us, if you’d like to know so you can adjust the sails and succeed at your next endeavor. I’m assuming that you haven’t found employment yet?”
“I’ve been calling around, but as soon as they found out I got fired, they all but hung up in my ear.”
“I’m not surprised. Most people fight hard to stay here and only leave if they’re fired, die or retire. It takes a lot to get let go from Furst Industries, so it’s no surprise that the companies that you’ve already called were not eager to hire you.”
Shawna’s face colored a soft pink and she wished that she hadn’t engaged this man in conversation. She wanted to leave and to end this conversation as quickly as possible.
“You were saying that you know my problem,” she said, cringing at the suggestion that she was even remotely responsible for being treated so poorly.
“I do, and I think that you’ll agree when I tell you that changing this will change your life, though I doubt it will get you employment in this area.”
“I’m not going to give up until I have a job,” she said.
“That’s good. Your issue is power. You don’t know your own power, and because you doubt your worth, others doubt it, too. When you realize that you are worthy and that you have complete power over yourself and how others treat you, then you’ll be able to change how you’re treated. Until then, people will continue to walk over you and you’ll waste a good deal of time at entry level jobs when you could be so much more.”
“Are you trying to manipulate me into being a success?” she asked, looking at him suspiciously.
He laughed.
“No ma’am,” he said, propping h
is feet up on the coffee table.
Shawna realized then that he was wearing cowboy boots with his suit, the fine leather polished and conditioned until it was perfectly supple.
How Texan of him, she thought, almost laughing.
“I’m trying to get you to see that you’re more than you give yourself credit for, but no one can force you to see your worth.”
Shawna nodded.
“I really have to be going,” she said, changing the subject.
“I understand. You have to run off so you can hang out at your apartment and pity yourself this weekend, then you’ll hit the job search hard and spin your wheels all week and come up empty. This money isn’t going to last long.”
“I’d like to leave now,” she said.
“I don’t think you want to. I think that you loved it here and you want to stay.”
“I didn’t know that was an option.”
“It usually isn’t, but I like you.”
“Great.”
“Look, you’re not a good secretary, and you really don’t have the skills to be an effective personal assistant, but I have a job I need filled and maybe you would be interested.”
“What is the job?
“Well, I need a date this weekend.”
“You can’t be serious? I’m leaving.”
“Hear me out,” he said. “I’m not talking about having sex or anything like that. I have a charity event to go to tomorrow night, and I need a beautiful woman on my arm.”
“I don’t know the first thing about charity events,” she said.
“I really just need you to look pretty, laugh at my stupid jokes so I don’t look foolish, and slow dance with me a few times. The dinner is subpar but still delicious, and I’ll provide the evening gown, which you can keep.”
“I don’t really have a use for an evening gown.”
“I would be paying you as well,” he said, arching an eyebrow.
“How much,” she said before she could stop herself.
“Five thousand.”
“For the night?” she shook her head. “No way, I’m not having sex for money.”