Olivia. This was my first time on a private jet. I always wondered what it would feel like to be on one, I thought I’d feel rich.I didn’t.I felt like a fraud.The leather seats were softer than anything I’d ever owned. The air didn’t smell like recycled humanity like it did on commercial flights. Everything gleamed, chrome, glass, polished wood and the only sound, apart from the engines, was the occasional clink of ice in Jake’s drink as he typed furiously on his phone.I sat two seats across from him, legs crossed, hands folded in my lap, trying not to bite my lip.This wasn’t some indulgent, champagne sipping joyride. This was business. For him, anyway.For me? This was a guilt ridden gamble. I had to be here even though I didn't want to. My son's life depended on me being here, ironically. Kyle’s face kept flickering in my mind, his sleepy eyes when I kissed his forehead before leaving, his fingers curled around his stuffed lion. I’d barely made it out the door without crying.
Olivia. We stepped into the million dollar executive hotel, it was like stepping into a whole different universe where rich people hang out. The hotel was too nice, expensive too, I could just tell by the chandelier and paintings on the well. It was boujee, the fanciest hotel I had ever stepped foot in. Not just fancy but intimidating. Like the kind of place that looked down on you as soon as you stepped through the glass doors. Everything was polished within an inch of its life. Crystal chandeliers, marble floors that reflected your every misstep, and staff dressed like they were trained at Buckingham Palace.Even the people, guests there all looked like they owned some big businesses around the world, the women strolling around in six inch heels. I definitely felt out of place and felt like everyone was judging me, even though no one was really paying me any attention. I tried not to let it get to me. I walked beside Jake, suitcase in tow, like I belonged here.Like I wasn’t the
Olivia. Everything since our arrivals had been weird and arkward and I just wanted to get through this weekend and go back home to my son. Dinner was the kind of thing you dress up for, even if your heart wasn’t in it. Mostly because I had to look the part if I was going to be spotted out with the billionaire himself, Jake Anderson. Following his earlier comments about me not being his type, I was extra conscious about how I intended to look tonight. I’d borrowed a fitted navy wrap dress from the back of my suitcase, one I’d bought on clearance a year ago and never had the confidence to wear. I wasn’t trying to impress Jake. I wasn’t trying to be his type, or whatever that meant. I just wanted to feel put together, even if the rest of me was a mess. Or maybe a part of me wanted to also show him I can dress up when I wanted to. Ni woman wants to hear they are not a man's type it's ego breaking. He hadn’t mentioned the awkward hotel check in again. Didn’t bring up the room. Or the
OliviaI wasn’t expecting the sound of the door. I had already come into terms that Jake was not coming back tonight, so the door opening actually caught me unaware. It was past two in the morning, and I’d finally dozed off on the velvet chaise in my room, phone clutched in one hand, heartache clenched in the other.The soft beep of the door unlocking startled me awake.I blinked, dazed, sitting up as the suite door swung open and Jake stepped inside like nothing had happened. Like it wasn’t the middle of the night. Like I hadn’t spent hours wondering where he was and hating myself for it.He shut the door behind him, and that’s when I saw it.The stagger in his step. The flush in his cheeks. The unmistakable smell of whiskey and something musky and expensive on his breath.And then the lipstick.Faint, but obvious, smeared along the collar of his white dress shirt. A wine colored mark that didn’t belong to me since I didn't even touch him when he dropped me off at the hotel. I don'
Olivia. I don't know how long I stayed downstairs before I went back up to my room. But when I got back he was in his own room snoring so loud I could hear him from my own room. Vegas mornings felt like hangovers even if you hadn’t been drinking.I woke up in a sunlit suite that felt colder than it should’ve. Jake’s door was still closed. The echo of last night hung between the walls like smoke lipstick, whiskey, and words I couldn't forget.“Something that’ll look good beside me.”The phrase looped in my head like some twisted mantra. I didn’t know if it was the insult or the implication that stung more.Either way, I wasn’t going to let him have the last word.I got dressed in jeans and a basic tank, slipped on my sandals, and left without knocking on his door. He’d made it clear what he wanted: someone polished. Decorative. Assistant Barbie. Fine. I’d give him that.But I’d do it my way. I picked up the perfectly laid black card he left out for me last night to use on my shopping
Jake. I was halfway through reviewing the talking points for tonight’s dinner when the suite door creaked open behind me.I didn’t look up right away, figured it was Olivia, probably back from shopping, maybe annoyed. I wouldn’t blame her. The things I said last night… I’d been drunk, yes, but not out of control. Just careless.And for some reason, her hurt had stayed with me.The way she had looked at me, I felt bad about how I had worded some things, she didn't deserve it and I was going to apologize later on for it. I closed the laptop slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose, trying to find the right words to say when she walked out.But when I finally turned toward her, I forgot how to breathe.She stood there in the middle of the room, poised like something out of a fever dream.A deep green dress hugged her in all the right places, tailored within an inch of its life. The fabric shimmered ever so slightly under the light, making her skin glow. Her heels added just enough height
The First Day at work. Olivia. I stood in front of the gleaming glass doors of Kensington towers, a skyscraper that dominated the upper East Side of the New York skyline. I looked up at the big building that I could bet had over Sixty floors with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Today was the first day of my new job as the secretary to Jake Anderson, one of the most influential billionaires in the world. Ofcourse everyone had heard of Jake or seen him in blogs and articles. He was well known for a number of things apart from his billionaire status.i had spent the past week and the whole of last night preparing for those day. I was certain I had read all the articles written about him in every site including gossip columns. He was a tech mogul with a reputation for both being ruthless and a visionary. According to Forbes, whatever Jake touched turned into gold literally. He was also known for his strict work ethic, demanding perfection from everyone that worked for him.
Dreaded conversation. Olivia. It was past eight at night, I had finally finished getting everything back in the office in order as per Jake's instructions. I had expected working for a billionaire to be hard, but I had not mentally prepared for how exhausting it would be. My whole body was weak, I didn't even have the time to take a lunch break, I was starving. I slowly made my way home, with the thought of seeing my son giving me strength. The familiar sight of my small cozy house just right down the street brought a sense of relief but also a little bit of anxiety as I remembered the conversation I had managed to avoid this morning. I had been so busy that I didn't have the time to process how I was going to answer Kyle's questions. I had known at some point he was going to ask this question, but I always thought I still had some time left. I opened my front door and was greeted by the warm, inviting scent of dinner cooking. My best friend Jada, who lived with us, was in the
Jake. I was halfway through reviewing the talking points for tonight’s dinner when the suite door creaked open behind me.I didn’t look up right away, figured it was Olivia, probably back from shopping, maybe annoyed. I wouldn’t blame her. The things I said last night… I’d been drunk, yes, but not out of control. Just careless.And for some reason, her hurt had stayed with me.The way she had looked at me, I felt bad about how I had worded some things, she didn't deserve it and I was going to apologize later on for it. I closed the laptop slowly, rubbing the bridge of my nose, trying to find the right words to say when she walked out.But when I finally turned toward her, I forgot how to breathe.She stood there in the middle of the room, poised like something out of a fever dream.A deep green dress hugged her in all the right places, tailored within an inch of its life. The fabric shimmered ever so slightly under the light, making her skin glow. Her heels added just enough height
Olivia. I don't know how long I stayed downstairs before I went back up to my room. But when I got back he was in his own room snoring so loud I could hear him from my own room. Vegas mornings felt like hangovers even if you hadn’t been drinking.I woke up in a sunlit suite that felt colder than it should’ve. Jake’s door was still closed. The echo of last night hung between the walls like smoke lipstick, whiskey, and words I couldn't forget.“Something that’ll look good beside me.”The phrase looped in my head like some twisted mantra. I didn’t know if it was the insult or the implication that stung more.Either way, I wasn’t going to let him have the last word.I got dressed in jeans and a basic tank, slipped on my sandals, and left without knocking on his door. He’d made it clear what he wanted: someone polished. Decorative. Assistant Barbie. Fine. I’d give him that.But I’d do it my way. I picked up the perfectly laid black card he left out for me last night to use on my shopping
OliviaI wasn’t expecting the sound of the door. I had already come into terms that Jake was not coming back tonight, so the door opening actually caught me unaware. It was past two in the morning, and I’d finally dozed off on the velvet chaise in my room, phone clutched in one hand, heartache clenched in the other.The soft beep of the door unlocking startled me awake.I blinked, dazed, sitting up as the suite door swung open and Jake stepped inside like nothing had happened. Like it wasn’t the middle of the night. Like I hadn’t spent hours wondering where he was and hating myself for it.He shut the door behind him, and that’s when I saw it.The stagger in his step. The flush in his cheeks. The unmistakable smell of whiskey and something musky and expensive on his breath.And then the lipstick.Faint, but obvious, smeared along the collar of his white dress shirt. A wine colored mark that didn’t belong to me since I didn't even touch him when he dropped me off at the hotel. I don'
Olivia. Everything since our arrivals had been weird and arkward and I just wanted to get through this weekend and go back home to my son. Dinner was the kind of thing you dress up for, even if your heart wasn’t in it. Mostly because I had to look the part if I was going to be spotted out with the billionaire himself, Jake Anderson. Following his earlier comments about me not being his type, I was extra conscious about how I intended to look tonight. I’d borrowed a fitted navy wrap dress from the back of my suitcase, one I’d bought on clearance a year ago and never had the confidence to wear. I wasn’t trying to impress Jake. I wasn’t trying to be his type, or whatever that meant. I just wanted to feel put together, even if the rest of me was a mess. Or maybe a part of me wanted to also show him I can dress up when I wanted to. Ni woman wants to hear they are not a man's type it's ego breaking. He hadn’t mentioned the awkward hotel check in again. Didn’t bring up the room. Or the
Olivia. We stepped into the million dollar executive hotel, it was like stepping into a whole different universe where rich people hang out. The hotel was too nice, expensive too, I could just tell by the chandelier and paintings on the well. It was boujee, the fanciest hotel I had ever stepped foot in. Not just fancy but intimidating. Like the kind of place that looked down on you as soon as you stepped through the glass doors. Everything was polished within an inch of its life. Crystal chandeliers, marble floors that reflected your every misstep, and staff dressed like they were trained at Buckingham Palace.Even the people, guests there all looked like they owned some big businesses around the world, the women strolling around in six inch heels. I definitely felt out of place and felt like everyone was judging me, even though no one was really paying me any attention. I tried not to let it get to me. I walked beside Jake, suitcase in tow, like I belonged here.Like I wasn’t the
Olivia. This was my first time on a private jet. I always wondered what it would feel like to be on one, I thought I’d feel rich.I didn’t.I felt like a fraud.The leather seats were softer than anything I’d ever owned. The air didn’t smell like recycled humanity like it did on commercial flights. Everything gleamed, chrome, glass, polished wood and the only sound, apart from the engines, was the occasional clink of ice in Jake’s drink as he typed furiously on his phone.I sat two seats across from him, legs crossed, hands folded in my lap, trying not to bite my lip.This wasn’t some indulgent, champagne sipping joyride. This was business. For him, anyway.For me? This was a guilt ridden gamble. I had to be here even though I didn't want to. My son's life depended on me being here, ironically. Kyle’s face kept flickering in my mind, his sleepy eyes when I kissed his forehead before leaving, his fingers curled around his stuffed lion. I’d barely made it out the door without crying.
Jake. The hotel room keycard burned a hole in my pocket. I kept flipping it between my fingers, watching it catch the streetlights as the car idled outside Olivia’s place. I wasn’t supposed to be here, at least not personally. The driver could’ve handled it. That’s what he was paid for.I had told her I was sending the driver to pick her up, which originally was the plan, but something about her was off and I was intrigued by her mystery, and now I was sitting in front of her house. What was she hiding? What was her story? My gut was never wrong, ever. But something about her hesitation earlier had gotten under my skin.When I told her about Vegas, I expected a little surprise. Maybe even excitement. Most people get that flicker in their eyes at the word Vegas, like it’s a permission slip to shed responsibility and taste danger in a cocktail glass. It was also a free trip and my previous assistants were always excited about such opportunities, But not Olivia. Her face didn’t light
Olivia. I stared at the open suitcase on my bed like it was a live wire, sparking, daring me to touch it. The zipper caught on the edge as if it, too, didn’t want me to go. I yanked it free and tossed in a blouse, a sleek black dress I bought three years ago for a wedding I never attended, and a pair of heels I hadn’t worn since I walked out of my father’s house for the last time five years ago.My hands moved faster than my thoughts. If I let myself think, if I let myself feel, I wouldn’t be able to do it. I'd call Jake and say, "I’m sorry, I can’t go. My son needs me. I’m not that kind of mother." And maybe I’d hear the polite sympathy in his voice twist into the subtle judgment that always came when people heard about my situation. Single mom. Kid needs surgery. New job. Messy life.But he had also made it clear he needed an assistant that was flexible to meet his needs at whatever time, and I had said I would be exactly that. And this was one of those times. And I needed this j
After the day I had, the last thing I wanted was to go back to work. Kyle was already in bed and I was about to put on my pajamas and call it a night when my phone buzzed on my dressing mirror. It was a message from a new number that I did not recognize. "Meet me at club Ace in twenty minutes." was all it said.I looked at the number, trying to see if I was at all familiar, but I had never seen that number before. I put my phone back on the table and was about to walk away when it buzzed again. This time, someone was calling me, the same phone number. "Stop calling me psycho." i yelled into the phone as soon as I picked up."Now that's no way to greet your boss Olivia, not after you ran out of here without even saying a word.""Oh my.. I am so sorry, I thought it was...never mind. How can I be of service to you sir, it's quite late." i said looking at my bedside clock. Who the the hell calls someone eleven at night."Club Ace in twenty." Jake said into the phone and immediately h