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A Fake: A Pretend Girlfriend Billionaire Romance by Charlotte Byrd (4)

Chapter 4 - Maya

I started shaking my right leg, and tapping my foot against the floor. I was getting nervous. I know that I didn’t do anything wrong, but this was a huge day for my company. This was no small or joking matter.

My paranoia went a bit far because I was really worried. I’m not a financial whiz, but I know that we need big clients to bring in business and help us go places. What would happen if we lost this opportunity? Would my job be in jeopardy? I just didn’t know.

I felt a little bad for Franca, too. She spent a month preparing for the presentation and went over so many different scenarios and possibilities. I’m not sure, but I bet she never prepared for the possibility of Alessandra just not showing up. I know that the two of them trusted each other.

I not only watched my phone, but I checked my email. I was looking for something – anything that would shed light onto the subject. No email came. I even checked her Facebook – which hadn’t been updated since yesterday evening. There were no clues, and no indications.

Finally, my office phone rang and my worst fears were confirmed. It only rang once, and I immediately picked it up and started speaking. “This is Maya. How may I help you?”

The voice on the other end was a stranger – at least to me. It was our local hospital – Alan Pizok Care Center. “Hi. My name is Jennifer Burk. I’m one of the attending nurses at Alan Pizok. Is this the employer of Alessandra Curtis?”

I blinked my eyes several times and stuttered out a response. “Uh…Yeah. We’re them. I mean, this is her employer…yes.”

“Okay. I can’t discuss specific details because of confidentiality, but she was hit by a car and is seriously injured. We would like to talk to her next of kin, or other family members. Would you know of a way to get in touch with them?” she said with a slightly raised and nervous voice. It wasn’t full panic, but it wasn’t calm, either.

My hand was shaking and I gave them the only contact information that I happened to know – the phone number for her parents. I begged them to call me back if she wasn’t getting better. They denied my request and said that they couldn’t talk to me unless she consented. Within just a few minutes, the call ended.

I looked at the timestamp on the phone – and it was already 1:30 p.m. “Oh, damn. We only have an hour to replace her.”

I picked up my phone and called Franca. This time, she answered within just two rings. It’s funny how someone is never available, but when there is an urgent situation, they suddenly become available almost immediately. “Hi, Maya. What’s the latest?” she said with crackling urgency.

I was just hoping that I wouldn’t get caught in a dramatic crossfire. I obviously wanted Franca to succeed – especially with such an important project. I just didn’t know how to break it to her. She was about to get waffled with bad news. “I just got a call from Alan Pizok. She’s at the hospital over there.”

Franca, quite selfishly, thought more about her project, than the serious health issue of her coworker and friend. “Well, that just figures! When we’re on the brink of having a major achievement, there’s a medical fluke that is going to fuck us over. Damn it! What happened to her?!”

I held my arms as I cross them and kept my phone cradled on my shoulder. “She was hit by a car. Other than that, I do not know. They said they would not share any details with us since there is confidentiality. They called in order to try and find a way to get in touch with her family.”

I did my best to find a helpful solution. I just put out what I thought was a decent idea. “Why don’t we just postpone or reschedule? We obviously have extenuating circumstances.”

She shot that down in a few seconds. “That isn’t an option. Even if we say that and get our deposit back, the conference we are presenting at only does this once a year. We would have to wait a full year. We would certainly lose our chance at getting the contract if that happened.”

Yup. We were screwed. Call it God, really bad luck, or destiny – but we just got nailed with a damn hard situation that we most definitely didn’t ask for. We always played our cards honestly, but something was preventing it from happening this time around.

“Maya, you’re up” said Franca in a low voice. She went silent and I grew really nervous.

I didn’t know what she meant. ‘You’re up’? Up for what? What did she mean? “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

“I need you to join me for the presentation. You need to take Alessandra’s place. We’re out of options.”

Now, I’m a team player and I wanted my company to succeed. That was out of the question. I would lend a hand in a supporting role to make that happen, and work hard at making everything work. I wasn’t okay with failure. In fact, I hate failure. “Oh, no. I can’t do that Franca. I have really bad public speaking skills. You know that I get nervous easily, too.”

“You don’t understand? You’re right. You need to understand that this is our only option. When...”

“But, I can’t do it!” I pointedly stated into my phone. “I don’t even have more than basic knowledge about this whole project. I’m a young, inexperienced, assistant” I pouted out at her.

“You know what you’re going to be if you don’t do this?” she asked in a voice that was drenched in sarcasm and bitterness.

“No. What?” I asked her bluntly.

“You’re going to be an unemployed, young, inexperienced, former assistant. Would you like that instead?” She barked into the phone with continued sarcasm.

So, there it was. I could make an ass of myself and do a presentation that I was unqualified and too nervous to do. Or, I could go look for a new job, and possibly spend a few months with no income. “Well, I have no choice then. I just want my concerns and my doubts noted that this will not succeed.”

“Disregarded, but duly noted” she bluntly pointed out. “I will be coming outside to speak to you in just a few minutes, and then we’ll drive down together.”

I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know much about the project. I knew nothing, and I would soon be the person responsible for appearing like I knew everything about it. I would, against my own protest, become Alessandra.

The building was fancy both inside and out. Now, I’ve seen my employer make the insides of buildings into amazing masterpieces. The outside is a different ballgame. That’s where engineers and architects come to the table.

The roof was slanted at a slight, rightward angle. The top of the building was tin that was bright and silver. The sides of the building were a combination of red and pink brick, and the building had a lot of large windows. The windows went from floor to ceiling, and there were lights outside of each window, which probably looked pretty at night.

The grounds had a lot of neat things, too. There were large yew shrubs and a couple of small, but growing oak trees in the front. There was a small pond to the right of the building that had just a few ducks – but nothing else. The pavement was freshly paved, and there were flower buds littered occasionally across the parking lot.

I probably wouldn’t have noticed that much of the outside building, but I was nervous as hell. I’ve never served in the military, but I bet the paranoia of possibly being killed, motivates a solider to pay attention to everything around him. That’s how I felt, and I didn’t even know how to complete my mission. “So, what do you need me to do, Franca?”

Franca was sitting in a plush chair and flinging her legs around because she was either angry or nervous. In normal cases, she is the type of person who sits still and doesn’t give any body signals. In this case, there were definite body signals. “I think it would be easiest if you just stand there politely and let me do the talking.”

I thought that was pretty dumb. What was the point of me going to the presentation and being there, if I was not contribute anything? I could do that from the audience. The only difference I could see was that I would stand and do nothing, as opposed to sitting and doing nothing. “If I’m not going to do anything, then what’s the point of me even being here? I don’t want to be here in the first place” I condescendingly said to her.

“Maya, I swear to God. You’re employment with me is hanging by just a thread. Knock it off!” she shouted as she pointed her finger at me.

Yet again, that comment beat me into submission. I guess she just wanted me to give emotional support – even if I did absolutely nothing. I guess there are worse things in the world that bosses ask from their employees. Besides, the presentation would only last for fifteen minutes. Even if the fifteen minutes was a living hell, it would only last a mere fifteen minutes.

With that in mind, I painted a half-genuine smile on my face and readied myself to move forward. “Okay. I’ll be here as your emotional support. I’m sorry I have been difficult. I’ll try to stay positive.”

She gave me a friendly slug on the shoulder. I would have preferred a ‘Get Out of Presenting Free’ card, but a slug on the shoulder was better than being threatened with termination. Some people see the glass as half full, and others see it as half empty. I always saw the latter, and I will concede that I need to do better at seeing things with optimism.

I looked at my clothes and frowned to myself. I wasn’t wearing sweatpants with an oil stain, but I was hardly formal, either. I had a skirt, and a button shirt that looked just okay. Given that we only had an hour until the presentation, I wasn’t able to go home and change my clothes.

I guess if I had my choice, I would have picked something really nice. Maybe a nice dress with high heels. The colors wouldn’t matter as long as they matched, and were conservative. If I knew I was going to present, I probably would have prepared by purchasing a nice outfit.

That boat already set sail, and I didn’t have that opportunity. I blame Franca for making it a little worse. She insisted that I wear my wool jacket. I obviously like my jacket – why would I wear it if I didn’t like it? It didn’t look very nice, though.

First of all, the jacket was just a little too small. What happens when a woman approaches her thirties? Generally, she gains a little weight and her metabolism slows down. That’s what happened to me. I put on fifteen pounds and the jacket wasn’t a smooth fit anymore. It also didn’t button.

“I’m just going to go to the restroom” said a plain-faced Franca as she strolled off.

“Fine. Flush away” I thought to myself as I upped myself and pulled my little body in various directions so that I could have a little stretch. I felt my back make a little pop, and reminded myself that dexterity and flexibility is something that starts to recede for people in their thirties as well.

When I bent over to continue stretching, I heard a loud chime and saw the elevator door open. There were several people there. In fact, I’m only half-exaggerating when I say that I think they had enough people to hold a conference in the elevator.

I stayed bent over and kept my head focused on them. The blood was draining in the wrong direction, so I stood back up and had a major goofy moment. I lost my balance and fell onto this guy that was walking in my direction. God, I felt like an idiot.

Even worse, when I fell onto him, his phone flew out of his hand across the marble floor. I lost my documents too. They flew all around and went all over the place. It was embarrassing for me as a woman who is shy and collective, but also as a business person.

I can’t tell if he was mad or amused. He looked over at me with a paused face – kind of like what a deer looks like when it gets caught in the headlights. Even so, he was nice enough to help me collect my papers and put them back into an organized bundle. “I’m so sorry. I apologize for bumping into you.”

He drew a grin across his face that was a bit puzzling. On past occasions, I remember watching my sex partners put on that kind of look before I climbed onto them and…yeah.

He smoothly assured me that life would go on. “We all have our accidents. Maybe next time try doing yoga without the high heels.”

Without another word, he strolled away while I finished composing myself. I would never publicly admit it, but I was a bit intrigued, if not attracted to him.

Women tend to be the serious ones. When we have something in mind that we want to do – whether huge or small – we don’t play or joke our way to victory like many men do. We put our eyes on the target and push for it. That’s true whether it is something like landing a business deal, or putting a rowdy child to bed. It doesn’t matter. In many ways, we’re all business.

As I got done composing my papers and regaining my balance, my little heart took a few fast beeps. He wasn’t only humorous and confident, but he was also handsome – another obvious plus.

He looked like he was maybe a few notches short of thirty years old. That meant that he was old enough to understand and reason with the important things in life. He wouldn’t be the twenty two year old kid who would go to the bar and get himself wasted. His age was most likely beyond that milestone.

He had brown hair, brown eyes, and wasn’t overweight. I couldn’t tell if he had muscle, but it looked like he might. Many women – including myself – like men to have a little muscle, but not to the gross extent of being a steroid-infused bodybuilder.

Call me corny, but I also liked his jaw. He didn’t have a butt chin, double chin, or squared jaw. It was smooth and round. It pushed itself out just a little so it gave him a little character. It was chiseled and well-proportioned.

I also like a man who is well-dressed. Nothing is a bigger turnoff than a guy who looks like a complete slob. Even a normally attractive man would repulse me if I first met him while he was wearing an stained T-shirt and sweatpants. Yuck.

He was wearing a fancy suit and nice pants. I’m not by any means a fashion expert, but I bet it cost him around $1,000 easily for the outfit. The suit was a dark grey and his shoes were a warm brown leather, obviously expensive.

I couldn’t tell if he was cocky, but I suspected that he might be. Whatever he did for a living, his appearance made it clear that it was something important. He looked way too nice to be an auto mechanic, obviously.

I took my mind off him and refocused on my important project. I had to be serious and think about business. Romantic attraction could wait. If I didn’t let it wait and let it distract me, I might get damned by not making a good presentation.

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