Building Billions [Part 1]

by Lexy Timms

  “Five years?”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. “Five. Entire. Years. Of free service no matter what the reason.”

  “You boys have a deal,” Pruitt said.

  We finished up the golf game, and I let the man win just to put the icing on the cake. We shook on the deal, signed the paperwork I had Ross draw up before the game, and then shook hands with our newest client. If we could get him to give us a spectacular review, that would be our golden ticket into the luxury resort industry. Yachts to rent out for hotels and helicopter rides with our company’s logo on them in the sky. Cars for those hotels to buy to go get their customers from airports.

  I could smell the money we would make from this one deal.

  “Don’t worry, Ross. I know what you’re thinking. And I’m prepared to absorb the loss up front we have with this deal,” I said.

  “I wasn’t nervous over that. I didn’t know if you were going to be able to pull it out with that client,” Ross said.

  “I always pull it out with clients. And why are you not worried about the numbers?” I asked.

  “Because of Ashley. That woman saved us damn near three million dollars with all those new tax breaks she found.”

  “She found?” I asked.

  “Apparently, she wanted to take matters into her own hands and purchased a copy of the tax code. She went to Jack with the entire damn thing highlighted with benefits for us.”

  “She what?” I asked.

  “Yeah. The entire tax code. In a week.”

  “We pay our lawyers hundreds of thousands of dollars to do that.”

  “And she did it in a week,” he said.

  “Are you sure it was just her? Just Ashley?”

  “That’s what Jack said. And you know Jack. If anything, he downplays things.”

  “I hate that about him,” I said.

  “The things she found saved us more than enough money to absorb the cost of this deal.”

  Other than our brief meeting, I hadn’t talked to Ashley since the night of the party, but now I wanted to. I needed to. I wanted to thank her for the incredibly hard work she put into this job. One week. She had pulled that out of her ass in less than one week. It was almost hard to believe, and yet, somehow, I believed it.

  “I’m impressed,” I said.

  “You should be. I was impressed, and I’m never impressed when it comes to numbers,” Ross said.

  “She didn’t slip in her work at all doing this?” I asked.

  “Nope. Still kept after the accounts we handed her and even got a few to bump up their monthly payments a bit.”

  “And her numbers were accurate? You didn’t have to rewrite anything?”

  “I didn’t have to touch a thing. There were actually some things I questioned and had to go to her for clarification, and that was when she pulled out the tax code from her fucking desk.”

  “Come on. You’re pulling my leg. This can’t be real,” I said.

  “Don’t believe me? We’ll go back to that woman’s desk right now.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “As a fucking heart attack.”

  “If that’s the case, we need to find her another position. She’s wasted potential sitting on the main floor of Accounting,” I said.

  “I couldn't agree with you more. Where do you want to put her?”

  On my desk. On my lap. In my bedroom.

  “Let’s think on it. I’m sure there’s a place in our company for her smarts. Dig around a bit and see what you can find. And make sure her bonus reflects all she did for us,” I said.

  “Trust me, I made sure it did.”

  Chapter 8

  Ashley

  Five thousand dollars.

  The bonus Big Steps gave me was five thousand dollars.

  That was enough to do so many things. I could pay off the balance on my credit card and put money in my mother’s account at the nursing home. I could pay off the rest of her medical bills she’d racked up last year, put one thousand of it in savings, and still have enough to cushion my account. I felt tears rising in my eyes as I looked at my bank account. I kept refreshing it on my phone, knowing it had to be a mistake.

  Five thousand dollars for a week’s worth of extra work.

  I was stunned.

  I sent Cassidy a screenshot of it. I couldn't believe it. I was crying so hard, I couldn’t speak, but when Cass called, I picked up the phone.

  “I can’t believe it,” I said.

  “We’re going and getting your hair done,” she said.

  “Wh-what?” I asked.

  “Do all that shit you told me you’d do in your text message and then call me back. We’re going and getting that rat’s nest of yours tended to.”

  “I can’t go spend five hundred dollars on my hair, Cass,” I said breathlessly.

  “How much money do you think it takes to get your hair done? You clearly don’t get out much. You’ve got three hours, and if you don’t meet me at the salon I text you, then I’m hunting you down and throwing you in the trunk of my car. Now, get to work.”

  I raced to my laptop and opened up all the accounts. One by one, I paid them off. And one by one, they sent me an email to my inbox congratulating me on paying it off. With my credit score, I could apply for a credit card with a lower interest rate, which would save me money in the long run. I could try and find something that would give me travel miles. Maybe I could switch over my bills to the travel credit card and pay it off every month and then rack up enough miles to fly to the mountains for a weekend.

  I’d always wanted to go to the mountains.

  I went to the nursing home website and logged on. Tears fell down my face as I transferred money into my mother’s account. I knew she would flip when she figured out how much was in there, and it brought so much joy that she’d be able to get herself some nice things now. A better type of razor and those snacks she always talks about. She’d have money to go on a few supervised excursions with her friends and make memories during the more lucid parts of her life.

  I flipped back to my bank account and put some money into savings, my hands shaking as I hit the deposit button.

  And I still had eleven hundred dollars extra in my account.

  I squealed, kicking my legs as I fell back onto my bed. I breathed a sigh of relief as I sprawled out on my bed. I felt my phone vibrating with whatever salon Cassidy was inviting me to, and I was actually excited. This would be the first thing my best friend had dragged me out to do that made me feel comfortable.

  It had been years since I’d had my hair cut, and it would feel good to get some of the length cut off.

  I smiled as I filled up my gas tank all the way for the first time in weeks. I pumped gas into the tank until it was almost overflowing. I screwed the cap up, jumped behind the wheel, and let my GPS guide me to the salon.

  And Cass was standing out there waiting for me.

  “I was afraid I was gonna have to go buy rope to tie you up with,” she said.

  “This place looks pretty expensive,” I said.

  “Don’t worry, I cut us a deal. I know the girl who’s cutting our hair, and she said she would give you the full treatment if you took a look at their taxes as well,” she said.

  “Tell her it’s a done deal. I’m practically a professional at this new tax code now.”

  “I figured you’d enjoy that deal. Come on. It’s time for you to get pampered.”

  And it was a serious pampering. While Cassidy got her hair done, I took a look at their tax forms. Everything was a mess, so I asked them for a pen and got to work. I ran the calculations in my head and worked with the numbers that were already on the paper. I reworked some things, filed some business expenses in other brackets, and asked them a few questions on things like charitable donations and other company expenses. It took me about two hours to muddle through everything and get it right.

  But once I was done, they only owed half of what they originally owed before I began.
r />   “Girl, you’re getting the full treatment today,” the stylist said. “Come with me.”

  “Don’t let her pick her own hairstyle. I’ve got one that’ll suit her well,” Cass said.

  “You’re not picking my hairstyle,” I said.

  “Trust me, it’s a good one. Your hair will still be long, but it’ll be layered and tamed and made to frame your face. I expect you to throw out those chopsticks as well,” she said.

  “Chopsticks?” the stylist asked. “You mean those nasty plastic things girls use to put their hair up? They still sell those things?”

  “Along with banana clips. Ashley here has four of them,” Cass said.

  “Oh, no, girl. Mm-mm. That’s not happening. We’re going to give you a hairstyle that’s gonna make you wanna wear your hair down,” the stylist said.

  “Just don’t go too short. I like my hair longer,” I said.

  “Don’t worry. This beautiful red hair is going to frame you up like a flickering fire once I’m done with you,” the stylist said.

  She started by taking the chopsticks I had in my hair and breaking them in half. It hurt my soul a bit to watch them go, but it made me excited for what was to come. The woman started by washing my hair and putting a deep conditioner in it to soften it and ready it for cutting. Then, she sat me up and began massaging my shoulders as my eyes fluttered closed.

  It felt so good to be pampered. She massaged my shoulders and my neck. She worked her fingers into my conditioned hair and massaged my scalp. I felt like I could fall asleep against the palms of her hands as she laid me back down. Then she rinsed my hair and helped walk me and my wet tresses to her styling seat.

  “Aren’t you going to turn me toward the mirror?” I asked.

  “Nope. You’re gonna trust me and your friend here to make you look hot,” the stylist said.

  Not being able to see what she was doing made me nervous, but she really took her time. She combed out all the knots and took off a good chunk of my hair. I could tell she was putting in lots of layers, but beyond that, I wasn’t sure what she was doing. My head felt lighter with every piece of hair she cut off, but I was getting nervous that she was taking too much of it off.

  “Remember, don’t take—”

  “Girl, relax. I got you. I’m good at what I do. Just close your eyes and let me finish up.”

  I sighed and shook my head as I held my glasses tightly in my hand. It took her what seemed like another hour to cut my hair before she took a blow dryer to it. She was running a massive circular brush through my hair and doing all sorts of things. I could smell product and see people smiling, and Cassidy was clapping her hands over in the corner. I shook my head at her and grinned. Then I felt my chair being turned toward the mirror.

  “Put on those glasses and tell me what you think,” the woman said.

  I stuck my glasses on my face and was stunned by what I saw. My hair sat delicately against my chest with so many layers I wasn’t sure where either of them started or stopped. I had layers that hit me around my cheekbones and dripped all the way down to my shoulders. I had a light fringe that played against my forehead. My hair was voluminous and shining. I’d never seen it so red before.

  “What did you put in my hair?” I asked.

  “There’s a special kind of shampoo specifically formulated for red hair. And girl, it works on you. I’ll sell you the large bottles of product for regular bottle price since you helped me with my taxes. And the rest of this? Free of charge.”

  “Can I tip you?” I asked.

  “Nope. Just come back so I can keep up with your mane. It’s beautiful, and it hurt my heart to see how neglected it was.”

  “I can do that,” I said with a smile.

  She rang me up for the product, and for the first time in years, I didn’t feel guilty buying something for myself. I felt like a new woman, rejuvenated with a haircut and walking away with two months’ worth of hair care products that would make me look spectacular. The stylist had been right. I didn’t want to put my hair up anymore. I wanted to wear it down all the time, no matter where I was going or what I was doing.

  I felt so good that I wasn’t ready to go home yet.

  “So, what are we up to next?” I asked.

  “Wow, you really must be feeling good,” Cass said with a grin. “How about dinner? On me?”

  “Come on. I can at least pay for my own,” I said.

  “Nope. You hang onto your money. Keep treating yourself to things like this. You’ve been taking care of your mother for way too long not to enjoy this.”

  “Fine. Dinner. But nowhere expensive like I know you like.”

  “I was thinking tacos,” she said.

  “Oh, I can get behind tacos.”

  “I think Jimmy will like your new haircut too.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Jimmy Sheldon? The owner of Big Steps? The man you boned?”

  “How do you know his name’s Jimmy?” I asked.

  “How do you not when you work for his company?”

  “Everyone calls him ‘Mr. Sheldon’ because he’s the boss. That’s how you show him, or anyone else, respect. How do you know his first name? You don’t even work there?”

  “He’s easy to Google. So, you think Jimmy will like it?”

  “Why does that matter?” I asked. “It was just one night, Cass. You’re making too big of a deal out of nothing.”

  “I don’t think it was nothing. You slept with him, you get this job, and then you get that bonus. He’s good for you. I think you should pursue it.”

  “You’re saying he’s good for me because he hands me jobs and gives me bonuses for doing that job well?” I asked. “That has nothing to do with what I look like or that night we spent together.”

  “All I’m saying is—”

  “Cass. It was one night. That’s it. One drunken night at one of his parties. The man has a girlfriend, and I’ve finally stopped beating myself up for sleeping with a man I knew was taken. Can we drop it, please?”

  “Well sorry for taking an interest in your love life.”

  “No love! There was no love! Just a drunken mistake,” I said.

  “Fine. Okay. All right. I hear you. Yikes. Let’s go get some tacos before you explode or something.”

  “I don’t think about it until you bring it up. I’ve got enough on my plate with bills and my mother and her medical expenses. I don’t need anything else to deal with right now. I’ve reconciled that one night to myself, and that’s it,” I said.

  “Then that’s it. Sorry for bringing it up,” she said.

  Chapter 9

  Jimmy

  My phone ringing on my bedside table pulled me from my comfortable slumber. It was Saturday morning. Who the hell was calling me so early? I looked over at the clock and groaned at the time. Nine in the morning on the only morning I allowed myself to sleep in.

  There was only one person it could be.

  “Hello, Nina.”

  “Good morning, handsome. I’m home,” she said.

  “When did you get in?” I asked. “And could it have not waited another hour?”

  “I’m at the airport, Jimmy. I need a ride home.”

  “What airport are you at? I’ll come get you,” I said.

  “What airport? Miami International, of course.”

  “What flight did you fly in on?”

  “Delta. First class. They treated me well, so don’t worry about that,” she said.

  “Oh, I have no doubt you made sure of that.”

  “Are you going to come get me, Jimmy? Or are you going to make me ride home in a cab?”

  “Stay patient. I’m getting out of bed now. I’ll see you in thirty minutes.”

  I rolled out of bed and splashed some water on my face. Nina was still back a couple of days early, which meant she probably ran out of money again. I threw on some decent enough clothes so I didn’t have to listen to her break down my wardrobe. Then, I headed for my personal vehic
le. Nina hated it when I had my driver pick her up from anywhere, so I was doomed to pick her up whenever she needed a ride.

  Like I didn’t have a company to run or anything.

  I pulled up to the Delta parking lot and saw her standing there. She was in a cute little red dress with her hair fluttering around her shoulders, and it reminded me of why I was doing this. Nina was a good thing. She had her moments, but committing to a woman like her showed both an ability to commit in the first place as well as standards. A man like myself had to portray a certain reputation in the community we were flourishing in, and a woman like Nina was just the type people expected me to be with. She had a grating personality and was selfish to her core, but she was a hell of a woman when it came to mingling at dinner parties and charity galas we were invited to.

  So long as I didn’t mind emptying my wallet for her, she kept up the image alongside me.

  “Oh, my gosh. You wouldn’t believe how rough that flight was.”

  Nina collapsed into the car like she’d had the roughest week of her life.

  “I thought you said the flight was fine.”

  “You weren’t listening, Jimmy. I said they treated me fine. The flight itself was miserable. The plane was hot. There was turbulence. It was awful,” Nina said.

  “Sorry you had a rough flight.”

  “And you were right. I should’ve come home instead of staying another week.”

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “I said you were right.”

  “Say that one more time.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Sheldon,” she said with a grin. “I’ll never admit if asked.”

  “Why was I right?” I asked. “I’m very curious about this.”

  “I had to stay with my friends for the majority of the week.”

  “I thought that was the point of the trip. To have fun with friends.”

  “Yes, but they were all bitching about stupid stuff. Sarah kept going on and on about how her doctorate program was ‘so hard,’ and Nina kept complaining about how her husband wasn’t paying attention to her. And don’t get me started on Delilah. I’m so tired of hearing about her kids.”