The Unnoticed Billionaire

Chapter Seven

By the time I get home, it's still nine. I spend another hour sitting on the staircase so that Mom would think the date went well and that I actually hadn't returned home less than two hours after we left the apartment. Instead, I used the quiet time to conjure up a story to break the news without telling her the truth. I can't outright tell her the first man who took her daughter out on a date was a douchebag who pushed me away.

Well, at least he bought me a drink before discarding me. I scoff. Why am I complaining? He wasn't my boyfriend. We were barely on our first date. See, this is my problem. I knew I shouldn't have any high expectations, bearing in mind the huge difference between us. Yet, somehow, things have become tangled in my mind, giving myself hope.

I take out my phone to check the time for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. Despite wanting to go inside and check on her, I feel embarrassed and too shaken. The soft taps of my foot nervously hitting the cement floor don't cease. I can only hope that she's sound asleep by the time I go in.

On an impulse and sudden fume of anger, I block his number and then puff out through my nose as though the action would relieve me of my anger and make me feel free.

Unfortunately, Mom is still awake and watching her favorite show when I enter the apartment. I offer a tight smile, embracing myself.

"Hey, honey." She hops from the couch. "How was your date? Did you enjoy it?"

I mentally sigh. If only you knew, Mom.

"Yes. It was actually great." My cheeks hurt from the forced smile. I go toward the sink to grab water but actually just want to hide my face from her.

"So? Are you going to see him again?"

I hope not.

I finish the glass of cold water and turn back to her."Maybe. I don't know. It was a nice date, though" I grin through the numbness of my mind and body. It has been a draining week.

"Oh, tell me about it? Where did you guys go?" She turns off the TV. Suddenly, the apartment is too silent. My heart pounds from lying to my own mother. "We went to a fancy club. He had VIP access. It was nice. We had drinks, we danced, and yeah . . " At least that much is true. She beams at me.

I change to comfortable clothes before taking a shower. The dress is put back in the box, hidden away far from sight. Mom finally goes to sleep. I sit on the couch, wide awake. For once, I allowed myself to dream about the impossible. Bitterly, I look across at the bouquet of red roses he brought tonight, sitting next to the bouquet he left on my doorstep the other day.

* * *

I tug at my pencil skirt and squirm in my seat. It takes great effort on my part not to nervously tap my foot or chew on my fingernail.

"So, how many years of experience do you have?" the hiring manager asks. He seems eager, and that is a good sign. The shiny title plate of "Store Manager" sits proudly on his desk.

"Three years at Golden Services, sir, and one year at a local grocery store," I reply after clearing my throat. My mouth feels dry all of a sudden.

His office looks somewhat intimidating. With an oak desk and several expensive pieces of furniture, it's hard to believe this is a coffee shop manager's office. Truth be told, it seems even more sumptuous than William's office.

He raises an eyebrow, looking expectantly. "May I see the papers?"

I nod and hand him the papers.

A few minutes pass. His eyes scan through the pages. His hand rubs his chin. When he looks up at me, I nervously gulp. His eyes deliberately check me out. I squirm in my seat uncomfortably. I hope this is not what I think it is; otherwise, I would have to reassess my options. Just think of Mom. Don't be selfish. I shake my worries away. This isn't about me. This is about Mom. About paying bills. About survival.