Stepbrother Billionaire(30)
Author: Colleen Masters

I take the subway down to the Lower East Side, a neighborhood chock full of galleries, cool shops, and excellent cafes—not the mention some kickass bars. The Bastian offices are housed in a building that used to be a factory, once upon a time. These days, it has the industrial feel that’s so popular in the city while simultaneously being super high tech. The best of both worlds. I stop before the front door the office, taking a moment to check my reflection in the glass. Riley was right to suggest this top—it brings out the green in my hazel eyes nicely.

As I ring the buzzer, a strange feeling passes through me. It’s almost like deja vu, the feeling that this moment is significant, somehow. Clandestine. Maybe I’m just anticipating the interview going well? Whatever the case, there’s no more time to ponder. The door opens before me, and I step quickly into an old fashioned elevator.

The elevator doors part before me, and I step out into the high-ceilinged office space. A large communal desk stands at the center of the room, surrounded by a dozen hip twenty-somethings. The walls are covered in white board, so that people can jot down ideas whenever and wherever they occur. My jaw falls open a little as I see a fully stocked bar standing in one corner of the main room. The people running this place weren’t kidding when they described it as “off beat”.

I like it.

I’m supposed to be meeting with the founding partner and CEO of the agency, Owen Cooper. But glancing around the spacious room, I don’t see a reception desk anywhere. Silly me. As if a place this cool would ever have something as square as a front desk.

“Are you Abby?” asks one of the people at the communal desk, plucking out an earbud as the rest of the group types on.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I smile, hoping my nervousness doesn’t show.

“Cooper is waiting for you in his office,” she says, nodding toward a glass door off the main room. Calling the boss by his last name, huh? How unconventional. Another check in the plus column for this place.

I thank her and make my way toward the door. Before I can raise my hand to rap against the frosted glass pane, it swings open before me. Standing there is a man I recognize from the Bastian website as Owen Cooper himself. He’s super young for a CEO, in his late 30’s or so. He’s dressed in jeans, a sweater, and a friendly smile.

“Abby!” he says, as if we were old friends. I guess being able to check out interviewees’ social media profiles makes everyone fast friends these days. “Come on in. Coffee?”

“Sure,” I reply, “It’s nice to meet you Mr.—”

“Just ‘Cooper’ is fine,” he cuts me off, pulling a shot from a fancy espresso machine sitting on a table against the wall. “So, thanks for coming in. Even if this is a bit of a formality.”

“What’s that?” I ask, happily accepting the rich cup of espresso.

“Your portfolio is excellent,” he tells me, sitting down at his desk. “Top notch. I knew I wanted to hire you from the second I saw your work. Sorry…did I forget to mention that in my last email to you?”

“That you did,” I say, sinking into a chair opposite him in mild disbelief. “Are you saying…I already have the job?”

“You do if you want it!” he smiles, “You’ll have to forgive my absent-mindedness. My brain is always hurrying onto the next task, so I sometimes skip over what’s right in front of me. Anyhow, yes! The job is yours for the taking.”

“Well, I absolutely want to take it,” I grin, “Thanks Mr…Er, Cooper.”

“Yeah!” he says, clinking his coffee cup to mine. “And you’re in luck, too. One of our managing editors from the European office is going to be lending me a hand here in New York for a while. He’s much less of a scatterbrain than I am, so he’s going to be the one showing you the ropes. I can’t remember if I told him that…”

“That sounds great,” I reply, sipping the fine espresso as I try to play it cool. I can’t believe I stressed out all week for an interview that was actually a job offer! I guess with the fast-paced aspect of the tech world, hiring practices are a little quicker at places like this.

“So, what else can I tell you…” Mr. Cooper continues, propping his sneakered feet up on his desk. “Salary is 60K. Full benefits. Three weeks vacation…”

I stare at him, practically salivating. I try to never think that something is too good to be true, as a rule. But this whole situation is testing me.

“Well, what do you say?” He presses jovially, “Are you interested in the job, Abby?”

“I’m…very interested. Absolutely,” I grin, “This is my dream job, Mr…Cooper. I can’t tell you how I excited I am—”

“Yes, yes. Very good,” Cooper says, standing abruptly. “Well, like I said, our brilliant managing editor is back from Europe this afternoon, and he’s going to be helping you get settled here at Bastian. You’ll trail him to meetings, sit in on brainstorming sessions, all that good stuff. But for today, just go home and relax. Take the Friday to yourself. This is a fast-paced company, Abby. You’re going to need all your stores of youthful energy come Monday.”

“Sounds great to me,” I say, standing as Cooper opens the door for me.

We walk back out onto the main floor together, but I might as well be walking on a cloud. This whole week, I’ve been stressing out about an interview that was actually an offer! What a screwy industry this is.

I think I’m going to love it.

The other employees look up with interest as Cooper leads me to the elevators. It’ll be so nice to work with people my age at a company on the cutting edge of creative innovation. And I didn’t even have to get grilled to score my place here! This day could not get any better.

Though of course, that just means it could get much, much worse.

“See you next week!” Cooper says, as the elevator dings to a stop at our floor.

“Thanks again for giving me this job,” I tell him, giving his hand a quick shake. “I promise you, you won’t be sorry.”

Beaming, I turn to the elevator as the doors swish open. So blinded am I by my luminous good fortune that I stride into the elevator car without noticing the person trying to step out of it. I reel backward, having collided with the human equivalent of a solid brick wall. Jeez, I thought this was a tech company, not a holding room for the Iron Man competition. I think I actually bruised something on this guy’s sharply cut muscles.