The Billionaire's Bauble Read Online Free PDF Page A

did another 360. “Oh, and take your time, Sloane. David might want to study the file before he signs. As long as you drop it off this afternoon. Thanks.”
    She smiled brightly at her new boss and turned to leave the expansive downtown office.
     
    When she’d called Tony that morning, she hadn’t expected to be put straight through to Human Resources. A magnanimous woman named Debbie Pierce told her to come in and sign W-2s that morning. Sloane threw on a black linen skirt and a crisp white blouse. She tugged on a gray sweater over the perfunctory ensemble, and put on a pair of black pumps. She was off to work!
    Hired, Sloane’s new title was executive assistant to Tony Forster, president of Forster Industries. Like David, Tony had a staff that accommodated all his requests. Sloane’s perfect driving record apparently recommended her for running errands. Her first task: deliver documents to David Grant for immediate signature.
    Sloane peered into the small vanity mirror in her sturdy, compact, all-wheel-drive vehicle and checked her face. No amount of foundation could hide the evidence of a poor night’s sleep. But her eyes shone brightly, keen with joy. She had a job, and she had a date. The only thing she was unsure about was this first assignment.
    Would she just hand this file off to another assistant, or would she actually lay eyes on, maybe even speak with the man she was expecting that very evening? Sloane didn’t have time to worry about the particulars. She programmed the address emblazoned across the manila envelope into her GPS. She soon found herself navigating through unfamiliar territory. The tonier neighborhoods of the upper crust loomed large along the Chena River.
    Sloane found David’s address on the imposing iron gates blocking a long driveway. She pulled onto the concrete driveway and buzzed the intercom. A camera swung toward her car, took her picture, and a moment later the gates ratcheted wide. Sloane eased her car along the arboraceous route to David’s home, feeling a bit like Little Red Riding Hood in the dark forest.
    Her mother would say, “Be nice, but not too nice.”
    Sloane bit her lip nervously as she approached the giant stone and brick edifice. It looked to be at least 7,000 square feet of modern wealth. The entryway was shaded by Sitka Spruce reaching hundreds of feet into the air. The contemporary home looked as if it had been magically placed within hundred-year-old foliage, and the juxtaposition of natural and human-made captivated Sloane’s untrained eye.
    She didn’t know a thing about real estate, but she did know this was the most magnificent structure she’d seen during her time in the Golden Heart City. She parked her car in the circular drive right behind the black Italian sports car, checked her face in the mirror again, applied fresh pink lipstick, and exited her vehicle. The heady scent of pine and the rushing of the river followed her up the brick path to the twenty-foot high oak doors.
    The door opened as she approached, and she paused a moment before entering the cool hallway of David’s home.
    A sallow-faced young man in blue jeans and a multi-colored plaid button-down shirt stood just inside the door.
    “Are you here from Forster?” he asked, already reaching for the envelope Sloane clutched in her hands.
    “Yes, I was told to deliver these to David Grant. Is he here?” Sloane asked, not sure if she should hand the file over or wait to see if she might actually deliver it to its intended recipient.
    The young man waggled his outstretched hand in exasperation. “Just give it to me. Mr. Grant is expecting the file. You can wait in the drawing room or out on the terrace.” He lifted his chin and pointed to the left, where a yawning doorway led into another large room.
    “As you wish,” Sloane acquiesced with a small nod. Her kind tone and good manners must have caught the guy off balance because his head jerked questioningly, and he looked Sloane