The Alpha Billionaire's Unexpected Baby: A Billionaire BWWM Pregnancy Romance

by Joanna Jacobs

  Though the rejection slips were a sign that I was trying it was no help nor was it a comfort to me.

  Grabbing my lap top I once again headed to that job site that was beginning to feel like a second home to me. I had been to that site so many times it was almost insulting that they hadn’t offered me a job!

  I went through the usual listings and saw those that I had already applied for. The greeting card company listing was still up. They had rejected me and for as long as that listing had remained up I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were rejecting everybody who applied. As unlikely as that was it at least gave me a little comfort.

  Finally, towards the end I saw another listing that had in orange letters next to it “apply easily!” The listing itself read “local businessman seeking personal assistant. Discretion a must.”

  I felt my eyebrow rise. What was this? Some sort of listing where the businessman turns out to be a mass murderer? I was about to pass over this mysterious listing when I felt myself being drawn back to it. I knew how to type and was pretty quick at it too. I knew how to keep a secret like the best of them.

  I was about to pass over it again when I felt myself pausing again.

  I really had nothing to lose. I clicked the “apply easily!” button and off my resume went!

  Now, now, we played the waiting game.

  When that company looking for the secretary didn’t call I had practically written them off. I felt frustrated and decided to take my sister, Janice, up on her offer to let me call her when I was feeling frustrated.

  Let the ranting begin.

  Janice and I had always been close together and could talk about anything. We were sixteen months apart and practically raised as twins. We would often talk to one another about things going on in our lives, complain about boys, and gush over whatever we had happened to fall in love with.

  I heard the phone ring a few times before Janice picked up. I had called her from my land line just in the every so slight case someone would try to call me on my cell phone. I had given that number as my contact number for employers to call me back at. It felt ironic as I was pretty sure no one would be calling me. She asked me if I had any luck in finding work and I said no.

  “Let me sit down while you rant away big sister,” Janice said.

  She knew me too well.

  At the same time I felt myself sitting down in a semi comfortable chair as I angrily thought about how no one would hire me. At least talking to someone who understood would probably help.

  At the very least I was certain Janice would have some creative ideas or some sort of suggestion that would help me get back on the right track.

  It was certainly better than sitting around and doing nothing.

  “I can’t get a job without experience, can’t get experience without a job!” I protested.

  “But you already have experience!” Janice answered.

  “But to them, it’s not the right type of experience.”

  “That’s just stupid.”

  “Tell me about it!”

  Janice paused before asking, “Do you have enough money to get by?”

  “For now I do,” I admitted. “I was lucky in that I was smart to save extra money for a rainy day.”

  Janice was about to speak when my cell phone rang.

  Reaching out I took it into my hands to see who was calling. I can’t say I recognized the number but I did see the word “office” written across it.

  “Uh, Janice, I’ve got to answer this,” I said to her. “Can you wait for me?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

  I set the phone down and answered my cell phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Yes, good morning, is this Amanda Granger?” A professional sounding voice on the other end of the phone asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes. You applied for a job at Covington Industries. Are you still interested in this position?”

  I felt my heart stop. Covington Industries? I could be working for the Blake Covington?

  It took me a few seconds to be able to find my voice again. “Uh, yes, yes I am,” I half sputtered.

  Idiot, I told myself. You just blew your chance at getting this job before it’s even begun!

  “We’ll see you tomorrow. Dress professionally, no jeans,” the voice said and then hung up.

  I hung up my cell phone while feeling shocked. Could it have possibly been a joke? Why would they call me when there were probably so many other more qualified people out there?

  Despite my shock I was able to tell Janice what had happened.

  “That billionaire?” She asked. “Are you sure they gave the name Blake Covington?”

  “They did. I’m in shock!”

  “No offense Amanda, but Blake Covington can afford anyone to work for him! The man has more money than God! Do you even know what the position is for?”

  I shrugged and said “it’s for a secretary position so it’s somewhere within the company. It’s unlikely I’ll be working directly with him after all! It’s probably for one of his employees.”

  Working directly as his secretary was an absurd thought! He would be much more likely to hire someone who has far more professional experience than I have.

  We talked some more before Janice had to go pick up her kids from school.

  After our talk I didn’t feel any better. If anything I was even more wound up!

  Against my better judgment I went to go look up more about Blake Covington. I knew about his wealth that he had inherited upon his father’s passing. The family was “new money” and they had become an incredibly successful, if not one of the most successful, businesses in these United States.

  All of a sudden it really was incredibly intimidating and I began to debate with myself over going to the interview. What if it was just some joke? Why should I expect him to hire me, a nobody? I probably wouldn’t even get the job anyway.

  My mind began to torment me in this way for the better part of the afternoon. If the position was for an everyday person I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But working for a wealthy person was a whole other matter.

  Somehow I felt like I was being trapped in one of those no plot and horribly written so called romance novels. Except this was real life and I suspected I was about to get a pretty heavy dose of it.

  Despite not wanting to I ate a decent dinner and went to bed for the night.

  The next morning I got up, put on my nicest outfit, and went to my car to go to the interview. I had decided to arrive early just in case. One could never be too careful and I didn’t know what traffic would be like. I felt myself continuing to make excuses until I arrived at the office building.

  The building itself was large and a dark beige in color. It seemed odd to me that for such a wealthy place they chose to stick with such a dull color.

  After finding a parking space I got out of my car and into the building.

  Here goes nothing, I told myself.

  The inside of the building was larger on the inside than it appeared on the outside. From the outside one could easily be forgiven for thinking it was a tiny building when in reality it was huge. It reminded me of those houses that were built like igloos. From the outside they appeared tight and cramped but were surprisingly roomy.

  The floors were some type of linoleum in a neutral color. The walls were painted white with off white colors painted on them to simulate wallpaper. All together it was welcoming and yet an incredibly boring color scheme at the same time. He didn’t really seem to be one for big flair which was probably why people close to go do business with them. I can’t say I’d feel comfortable doing business with someone who had a huge amount of colors all over the place and other weird looking things hanging all around in some sort of bizarre mimicry of Jackson Pollock. I had nothing against the artist but didn’t want to see his work everywhere.

  Quiet music was playing over the speakers. It didn’t sound like that common music that plays over
the speakers that is one step above elevator music. It sounded classical but I couldn’t identify the artist. Perhaps someone had some CDs that they brought in to play.

  A middle aged woman sat behind a desk. She almost looked like one of those old stereotypical figures with short hair, fancy glasses with a chain around them. The chain that hung on her glasses and went around her neck sparkled with each turn of her head. I guessed they either had to be very good glass beads or some sort of expensive crystal to get that look.

  Her dark eyes looked up and caught sight of me. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I’m here for a job interview with Mr. Covington,” I carefully said.

  The woman smiled at me and used her pen to point to some plush looking burgundy chairs. “Have a seat, please. We’ll call you soon.”

  I thanked the woman and went to take a seat. I could see so many different people around me who were certainly higher up on the social status ladder than I was. Part of me wondered why I of all people would be chosen when there were clearly people with much more money than I had and were most likely better educated too.

  One by one the line began to dwindle until I was the last one sitting there.

  “Miss Granger?” A woman’s voice said.

  I looked over to see a petite woman who was nicely dressed and holding a clip board.

  “Yes?” I said.

  “Come on in, please.”

  Despite the wobbly feelings in my legs I was able to force myself to stand up and to walk into the room as gracefully and as quietly as I could. I had always walked with a heavy step, a fact I tried to hide all of my adult life when wearing heels. Personally I preferred flats but those weren’t really an option this morning.

  I walked as steadily as I could into an office. This office certainly wasn’t like the romance novels and movies. It was a good sized office to be sure with a large window. Blinds had been pulled to the side to allow light to come in.

  A calendar hung on the wall and various office supplies were strewn about.

  The petite woman smiled at my reaction. “We get that a lot. Mr. Covington does prefer simplicity in certain areas.”

  “Yes, well, sometimes simplicity is a good thing,” I said.

  Smiling once again the petite woman told me to take a seat and left me in the room.

  Truth be told I was surprised that Mr. Covington himself was not in the office. For each job interview I had they always had the manager inside the office.

  After sitting for about a minute a tall man entered and apologized about making me wait. He was dressed in a well-tailored navy blue suit. Even his dark tie matched his suit. I was surprised by how monochromatic his clothing was but new not to say anything about it.

  He was a handsome man with dark strawberry blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. His jaw shape was square which I knew often made people think of leaders and important figures. I suppose it all went back to Washington with his square jaw.

  “Miss Granger?” He said.

  “Yes,” I replied and stuck out my hand.

  He took my hand in a firm but gentle grasp and shook it.

  “A pleasure meeting you,” Mr. Covington said before pulling up a chair. “If I may ask how did you find us?”

  “It was through a job board,” I replied.

  Mr. Covington’s head bobbed.

  He began to ask the standard questions that it seems every employer asks. I did my best to answer them as best as I could.

  Could I type well?

  Yes.

  Could I be able to juggle multiple things at once?

  Yes.

  This went on until my experience working at the college was brought up. Mr. Covington didn’t really comment on it other than he liked that I had experience.

  He was hard to read and I couldn’t tell if he felt positively or negatively of me. I tried to comfort myself with the fact that at least his body language was open to me. He didn’t act closed off and faced me when he spoke. He appeared to be listening which did make me feel ever so slightly better. He would jot down notes onto a piece of paper.

  “Why did you leave your job at the college?” He asked me.

  “I was laid off.”

  “You haven’t been able to find work since?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He wrote something else on the paper. A few more questions about what times would I be available were asked and then Mr. Covington thanked me for coming in.

  “Thank you,” I said and quietly left.

  Once I reached my car I tore off those damned heels and immediately felt better. Even if I didn’t land the position at least I could be free from heels! If I were even so fortunate enough to get the position I would seek about being able to wear flats.

  When I reached home there was a message on my answering machine from my sister asking how the interview went and to call her right away.

  I didn’t need a second invite to do that. I called Janice and she insisted on showing up. Janice was certainly good at being motherly at times.

  She soon showed up with a bottle of some type of wine and some popcorn which made me laugh.

  “To celebrate or to commiserate!” Janice joked. “How’d the interview go?”

  “I don’t know really. I’m worried I didn’t get the job.”

  “If that Covington guy doesn’t want you then it’s his loss! Anyone would be lucky to have you!” She threw the uncooked popcorn in the microwave and opened up the bottle of wine just as the phone rang.

  “Who’s that?” Janice asked.

  “Looks like Covington’s office,” I said and answered the phone.

  “Hello, Miss Granger, Mr. Covington wishes to know if you can start Monday?”

  Oh boy.

  My first day was certainly eventful enough. Despite my being nervous and showing up at Mr. Covington’s office I was swiftly whisked away to go to Las Vegas in a private jet. I was supposed to be there for some meeting but was not told what the meeting was supposed to be about. I understand what privacy is about but this was becoming insanity! How could I do anything or prepare if I don’t know what it’s for?

  It also struck me as somewhat odd that it seemed every millionaire and billionaire had their own private jets. I would’ve been perfectly happy boarding a general plane but rules were rules and policies were policies.

  I really wasn’t used to this type of life style and truth be told it made me a little uneasy. I hoped I would do well at this job as I certainly needed it.

  It was quiet inside the jet, a fact that didn’t really help me. I sat there wondering what was ahead of me. As we do when we’re nervous I began to wonder and make up situations inside my mind.

  When the jet landed I was once again whisked away to another place for Mr. Covington. Las Vegas really could be environmental overload to anyone who was sensitive to such things. Lights were everywhere and people were talking. Elvis impersonators were around as were people who appeared to be impersonating who knows what or whom.

  I had been given some information on what I was going to do. I was to follow Mr. Covington, take notes, run errands, and do whatever else he needed. I was also instructed that the people who would be seeing him would most likely treat him as if I was not there. I can’t say I was happy about that fact as I didn’t like staying in the background. Yet, I needed this job so I thought I could probably grit my teeth and live with it.

  The first meeting was with a man about some trades. It was my job to provide Mr. Covington with the necessary paperwork. I think I spent more time flipping through each piece of paper to hand to him than I did listening to what they had to say.

  Mr. Covington, thankfully, was patient with me and quietly thanked me when I passed him the necessary paperwork.

  He then handed me a small letter, “Would you drop this off at the front office to be mailed out, please?”

  “Yes, Mr. Covington,” I said and took the letter.

  Getting up I departed from the room. Doing basi
c errands such as these weren’t so bad. For the most part it was simple and uncomplicated work.

  By the time I returned the meeting had ended. I could see the back of Mr. Covington shuffling some papers into a neat stack.

  He suddenly looked up and over. He smiled when he saw me. “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

  “I don’t know if I could afford that,” I said in all honesty.

  Mr. Covington smiled again, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be paying for it.”

  It was then I began to wonder just where would we eat? I wasn’t dressed nicely enough for any place special or hugely expensive. We would certainly stand out if we went to some expensive place!

  I don’t know if Mr. Covington had sensed my uncertainty or intentionally chose a simple place but I soon found we were dining at a classy restaurant. It wasn’t too fancy but not too simple either. In the outside world the glitz, lights, and glam moved along.

  “How are you enjoying Las Vegas?” Mr. Covington asked me.

  “It’s…busy,” I confessed right before our dinners were served.

  He nodded, “It took me a lot of getting used to. It can be a little busy for my taste at times but that’s the way the world works.”

  Your world, I thought to myself. Your world is different than mine.

  After a few more words back and forth Mr. Covington’s attitude changed and it made him seem more personal. He began by asking me about my family.

  “I have a sister named Janice back home,” I said.

  “No parents?”

  “They passed away a long time ago.”

  “I’m sorry. My parents are gone too. It’s funny how we don’t really think about them until after they are gone.”

  “I agree,” I said.

  Suddenly he forced himself to become cheerful. I imagined he didn’t want to stay stuck on this sad topic. “Well then, we’re lucky we found one another, aren’t we?”

  I smiled at that, as I was grateful to have a positive topic again. “Yes we are.”

  He held up his glass. “Cheers!”

  I did likewise and let the glasses clink against one another. “Cheers.”