Trapped By The Billionaire Deal

Madeline We have reviewed your application and statistics data, but we cannot help now for some classified reasons. We wish you better luck elsewhere and hope you find a way out of the dunghill. - TreadStone Inc. I read the last of the emails we received. All the companies we asked for support and investment turned us down, mentioning one reason or the other. I kept the laptop on the table and leaned back on the couch, my hands interlocked behind my head. The more we looked for ways to save the company, the more it seemed like it was going down the drain. Footfalls grew in the distance, and my eyes darted overhead to the gallery. After a moment, a gray-headed man appeared, walking across and disappearing within the walls. He reappeared again, descending from the stairs. I watched him approach. "How did it go?" I shook my head. "I fulfilled my own part of the bargain. Did you." His lips tugged with a small smile. "I got three hundred." I sat up with a shrug. "Then we have half a million. But all our applications were rejected." "Not all." My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen. Mr. Hardman's name was displayed on the caller ID. I checked the time. It was still six pm. I turned to my dad, silencing the call. "The email says a different thing altogether." I gave my dad a look of, 'Don't worry about the call,' and continued. I opened all of them. They all said no. "The CEO of Softcore corporations called." He took a seat opposite me. "We talked, and he promised to get back to me." "That's not a verdict, dad. We can't work with that." "It's the best lead we've got." I shook my head slowly. "We should not stop at that, dad. We should pile up alternatives." "I know, and I'm already working on a few." He nodded. I c****d my head to the side without a reply, and he continued. "Pearson Conference." "Holy—" I gasped. "That's it, dad! That's our shot. We could…"l My phone rang again. I glanced at it, my eyes darting from Mr. Hardman's name to the time on screen. It was barely fifteen minutes past six. I rang it up. "Excuse me, dad." I hushed as I placed the phone to my ear. "Mr. Hardman?" "Madeline, we are not in a work environment anymore. Feel free to address me by my first name." I nodded as if he was with me. "You're still my boss, Sir." "Fair point." He replied immediately. "In the office. You seem to be in the middle of something." "I am in the middle of something." A brief silence followed, and then his voice returned. "I wanted to know about our arrangements today. Do we still have a deal or not?" "Uh…" I trailed off, realizing what happened in the office. The help he offered me came at a price, and he wanted to be paid. "How about we reschedule? I'm trying to get some proposals for the Pearson Conference." "Two weeks is a long time from today." He argued. I snickered softly. "It's still a short time for a company at the verge of bankruptcy. We need all the help we can get." The line went silent for a moment, then his voice returned. "Tomorrow evening then." "Yeah." I nodded slightly. "Thanks, Mr. Hardman." A small grunt followed, and the line went dead. My dad raised a brow at me. "My boss." I shook my head and gazed at the floor. "It didn't occur to me that his help came at a cost." When I looked up, I realized my father was watching me. I c****d a brow. "What's wrong, dad?" "You don't have to inconvenience yourself to help me, you know that right?" "We are not having this conversation again." I said defiantly. "Let's get back to the Pearson Conf…" I shook my head when I saw he was unflinching in his gaze. "Dad, there's nothing to worry about. I can handle my own." He released a long sigh and picked the laptop off the table. "You're still in your work clothes. Go freshen up, eat something, and we'll get to work." He was right. I was so carried away with saving The Holts that I was still working in the house with my 'work clothes.' I heaved a sigh, and a yawn left me of its own accord. "See, you're tired." He added without looking at me. "I know telling you to go to bed would be a trip to the moon, so I'm not going to force you. You get to decide that by yourself. But freshening up is an order." "What am I, twelve?" My pitch rose a little. He chuckled softly. "You certainly are acting like one." Balancing the laptop on his lap, he adjusted his glasses and peered at the screen. I watched him for a moment before I stood up and headed upstairs. In my furnished, tidy room, I crossed to the bathtub, and in a moment, I was done bathing. Shrugging into the comfy clothing of my pajamas, I dragged myself downstairs to the kitchen. Dropping my phone on the center counter, my knees were weak. I desperately wanted to rest on something. A chair, a bed, something. I yawned as I rifled through the kitchen cabinet, torn apart on what to whip up for dinner. Failing to decide on something, I dragged my foot across the floor to the fridge, my flip-flop echoing in the empty kitchen. Pulling it open, my eyes darted from one point of the fridge to another, a funny ringtone rend through the quiet kitchen. Picking a water bottle, I uncorked and downed the drink, my eyes darting to the vibrating device on the counter as I took in the name. Sunshine. I nicknamed Ray 'Sunshine' on her 30th birthday because she can be bubbly. We met at a bar where I worked as a barista for some time before some goodwill elevated me from a common barista to a staff of Pearson Enterprise, the head company managing the bar alongside many others across the city. She's been the one who managed to break through my isolated exterior and see right through me. Peering at the vibrating phone momentarily and realizing it was a video call, I was compelled to pick it up. "Hello?" She stressed the greeting, using a hand to unpack her dark hair and letting it fall over her shoulder. Ivory skin with slit-like eyes and a straight nose glittered back at me, thin lips tugging from ear to ear and revealing well-set teeth. I smiled a little back at her. "Hello to you too." "You know, since your new work, I've hardly had you for myself, hmm?" She leaned back in a woolen bean chair, a hand propping her head. I shook my head. "Well, to be honest, you know what we've been dealing with recently." I shook my head at her. "Harper can't declare bankruptcy." "Hello? Could you let your problems be a little?" She hissed. "Anyway, now that you're a staff member, I suppose you must be making plans to attend the biggest event of the year." I nodded. "Biggest event of the year, hmm? That sounds like a boring event." "Did you just call the Pearson Conference a boring event?" Her eyes widened. "A conference with a lot of drinks, men and fun?" "Wait, what?" I narrowed my gaze at her. "How do you know about that?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Well, guess?" I watched her momentarily as she smirked mischievously, and I gasped. "No way!"