Grumpy Billionaire and his Unlucky Assistant

CHAPTER1

Kimberly

"f**k! I'm late!" I yelled as I flung the sheets off my body, noting how tired I had been the night before by how rumpled my room looked.

It was not like it could be any better as I lived in a one room apartment in the slums of New York City. The putrid smell, occasionally wafting through the window coupled with the smell of cigarette or tobacco I have to fight every day, was one reason why I could never stay indoor all day. It's why I was grateful for my nine to five work even though it was hectic and energy draining.

The shower turned on, and I enjoyed the warmth of the shower as I lathered my full silky hair and body. Minutes later, the water stopped running.

"What the hell?" I tapped the shower head, but other than the droplets that fell on my head, nothing else came out.

I was still covered in soap suds, so I needed to find water. Grabbing the telephone on the wall, I called the building maintenance manager.

"Hi, Dennis. I think there might be something wrong with the pump. Would you mind checking for me?"

"Nothing is wrong with the pump, ma'am. If you don't have water, it means your water bill is over the line. Pay up, and you can get water again." He didn't wait for a response before hanging up.

I heaved a frustrated sigh as I thought about all the bills I had to pay. House rent, water bill, phone bill, lots of debts, and so much more. I went to the small space I used as a kitchen and grabbed the last jug of water I always reserved for drinking.

After I was done, I dressed and checked the fridge for something I could grab.

As usual, it was empty. I groaned, my anger shooting up like rockets.

"Now, I have to go to work hungry."

This was not really a problem, however, as I could grab something on the way. It was the fact that I was an hour late that got me all worked up. As I walked in my penciled skirt, heels, and my bag clutched to my chest, I focused straight ahead, ignoring the catcalls. Crackheads, homeless men, and little brats often stayed in this part of the street, making the road one of the most dangerous to tread at night. I was already used to the whistling and nasty comments about my body. Although I was well aware of how attractive my body was, as it had always been a center of attraction for me in school, I could never take the compliments lightly from mentally unstable men.

"You're late." Clarissa, my boss's secretary, muttered, an unreadable expression on her face.

"I know." I replied. "And I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"You can't be so sure, Kimberly." Clarissa looked up at me from her computer, her cold green eyes slowly becoming sad. "The boss asked me to give you this."

I prayed really hard that it was not what I thought it was. Clarissa rummaged through her drawer and finally handed over an envelope to me.

"What's this?"

"You can read, can't you? Then, go ahead. I wish you good luck." She was back on her computer.

My heart dropped at the first line of words I read. It was heart-wrenching, gut kicking, and hope dashing. Today was supposed to be my pay date, where I'd hoped all the money I'd use to pay my bills would come from. I slumped on the chair in the lobby as I felt lightheaded. This was my only hope.

"How am I going to...I don't have any other means." I muttered to nobody in particular.

My eyes had become blurry, and my mouth tasted bitter. I knew any effort to change my boss's mind would prove futile as I had received many queries before. What is the point of trying to make him change his decision? But I tried anyway.

"Can I see James?" Clarissa glanced back up at me.

"No. He asked me specifically not to let you into his office. In fact, as soon as you get the letter, he asked that you don't set foot in this building ever again."

I winced. Did he really want to get rid of me that badly?

"I'm sorry, Kimberly."

With a nod, I turned and left the lobby, walking fast until the roads were a blur, and my body shook vigorously.

"Watch where you're going, dumbass!"

"Hey!"

"Miss!"

These were the words of angry Yorkers as I bumped into them and ran into the roads, waiting to get to my room before bursting into tears. I got to the tall building and thought of whether I could use the stairs or the elevator. My room was on the second floor, so there was no point waiting for the elevator.

I ran up the stairs, and just when I was about to reach the second floor, I bumped into my landlord.

"Oh. I'm glad I caught you today, Miss Night owl!" He sneered.

I blinked away my tears, trying hard to be comported.

"Hello, Mr. Green."

"I want to believe you have my money right now, or are you about to fill me with your pity story? Trust me, those don't work anymore."

I bit my lips. "I'm sorry."

"You promised today!" He stomped his feet, approaching me aggressively as his staff tapped the floor. "You told me you would bring my money today. Six months, you've kept promising six months. I give you twenty four hours, woman. If I don't get my money by then, I'm throwing you out."

With that, the man trotted past me, his cane hitting the floor with the aggressiveness with which he had just spoken. I rushed to my room, fell on the bed and began sobbing into my pillow. Why does life have to be so hard? Especially to me.

It had been tough trying to get through college and out. I had to achieve my dream through students loan and now I can't even think of a way to pay back. My mom had also been critically ill and although I wanted to stay with her, she had insisted that I come to New York for greener pastures.

As if on cue, my phone chimed. It was a text from mom.

"Got back from the hospital. I have been diagnosed with cancer. Just thought to let you know. Love you, Kim."