The Billionaire's Hired Girlfriend

Chapter Two

Jack's Point of View
I walked into the coffee shop on the corner of 35th and 7th. 'Tony's Morning Pit Stop' The signed read.

The barista at the front counter had chestnut colored hair with a beard the same color. He had on black-framed glasses that looked dirty from where I was standing.

"What can I get you today, sir?" He asked me. I'm very insulted that he didn't know who I was.

"Venti Iced Skinny Hazelnut Macchiato, Sugar-Free Syrup, Extra Shot, Light Ice, No Whip." I ordered. The barista, who's name tag said 'Axel', raised his eyebrows at my order. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope, of course not! Can I have a name?"

"Jack."

I sat down at the booth in the corner of the room when Rapunzel walked in.

"Hey, babe!" Rapunzel excitedly ran up to me and kissed me on the cheek.

"Venti Iced Skinny Hazelnut--" The barista started, he squinted his eyes trying to read the cup. "For Jack."

Rapunzel grabbed my coffee and sat back down at the table.

"Are you not getting anything?" I asked her.

"No, I'm too excited!" She was beaming with joy.

"What's your big news?" I took a drink of my Hazelnut Macchiato.

"Well, I got an offer to be a judge on Project Runway!" The smile, that was already on her face, grew even more.

"That's amazing, babe!" I replied.

"The only issue is--"

"How is there an issue?" I interrupted.

"It's in the United Kingdom."

Anger spread throughout me. Why would she accept this offer without telling me? We've been together for a year and a half now. I should get some say!

"You're kidding." She shook her head. "Then what's the point in being together if you're going to be in the UK!"

I stood up from the booth, slammed my coffee on the table, and stormed out of the coffee shop. Paperazzi flashed their cameras at me, asking me all different kinds of questions; frankly, I could care less what they had to ask me.

"Taxi!" I shouted. A run down yellow Ford pulled up to the curb of the street. I hopped in the the passenger's side back door. "Frost Film Studios."

"You, like, an actor or something?" The brunette driver asked me. She had the stereotypical New York-er accent. Her skin was as pale as snow and the beautiful brown locks were tied into a messy bun.

"No, I actually own the company." I informed her. "I'm Jackson Frost."

When I introduce myself to knew people, not that I need to do that very often, I refer to myself as Jackson. I really only let my friends and family call me Jack, and, of course, the coffee shop baristas.

"Sounds like you got a sweet deal there." She made a sharp right turn onto 8th street and we continued down the street for a while.

"It's pretty nice." I replied.

'Wow, she's annoying.' I thought. There was a glass window in between the front and back of the car. I closed the window so I wouldn't have to hear her annoying accent.

My phone buzzed, so I grabbed it out of my pants pocket and looked at it. I received a text from Jillian.

---

To: Jack

From: Jillian

We need you at FFS ASAP! Bad stuff.

---

To: Jillian

From: Jack

OMW.

---

The driver took a left turn onto 47th street, which was were we needed to go. I looked over at the pricing meter and it read '15.62'. I reached into my wallet and grabbed a ten dollar bill, a five dollar bill, six dimes, and two pennies.

"No tip?" She asked, but I was already out of the car, walking into the building.

There was a small group of people waiting for the elevator. I walked over and joined the impatient crowd. It seemed like forever we were waiting; but, in reality, it was only two minutes.

When the elevator arrived, the group and I got on. The guy who stood by the buttons asked everyone for the floor number that they needed.

"28."

"31."

27." I told the man.

Luckily, I was the closest floor, so I was the first one off the elevator. As we arrived at the 27th floor, a familiar man, who's name I didn't care to know, gave a weird comment.

"What's up with the article, Frost?" He asked.

"What arti--" But the elevator door had already closed.

My face was on fire and my feet stormed over to Jillian's desk.

"What is this article people are asking me about?" I yelled.

"Let's go in your office." She escorted me into my office and I sat down in my desk chair. "It's not really an article, more like a video."

Just as Jillian was about to play the video off of her space grey iPhone 8, Hiccup storms in.

"Jack, what the hell?!" He shouted. "Are you trying to make the movie fail before it even comes out?!"

"If this is about that damn video, I don't even know what is it yet!" I was outraged by his outburst.

Jillian pressed play on the video. It showed me storming out of 'Tony's Morning Pit Stop' and hopping into a cab.

"I don't see the problem with this." I stated.

"Just wait." Hiccup added.

As the video continued, it showed Rapunzel walking out of the coffee shopping with hot tears streaming down her face, making her mascara run. Coffee was staining her pastel pink dress, from when I slammed my coffee on the table.

'I think Jack and I broke up.' She told one of the paparazzi. 'He broke up with me for no reason though! I didn't do anything! He just threw his coffee on me, shouted some cruel words, and ran out!'

Lies, lies, and more lies.

My eyebrows rose and my jaw dropped because none of that happened! Or, at least it wasn't as bad as Rapunzel is making it out to be...

'There you have it, folks!' The news reporter said. 'There's there real Jackson Frost! The cold-hearted, furious, and unloveable, Jackson Frost!'

"Rapunzel lied! None of that happened!" I exclaimed.

"Whether it happened or not, that's what Rapunzel said. It's out there and everyone believed it." Hiccup replied.

The three of us sat and started at one another for a few seconds.

"How can we fix this?" I asked.

"It's simple," Jillian started. "We need to get you a new and better girlfriend. One who won't complain about you to the press, if things go south. And I know just the girl." She smirked as she told me this, which made me a little nervous.