The Billionaire's Assistant: The Billionaire's Assistant, #1

By Sara Lapierre

Elise Cortez has an unfortunate blend of poor coordination and bad luck, leading her from one job loss to another. At the end of her rope, she's offered one last chance: a nanny and assistant position. But instead of caring for just one child, she's handed the responsibility of three. To complicate matters, these are not the sweet, angelic children she'd envisioned; each carries the weight of their own troubling past, despite their tender years.

 

Enter Dante Palmert, a highly successful businessman. As broken as the children he's raising, Dante's rigid ways and intolerance for mistakes — especially when it concerns his parenting style — have resulted in a string of resignations from past nannies. Out of options, he takes a gamble on Elise, a complete novice in the childcare realm. Yet, this might be the most serendipitous mistake he's ever made.

 

In a world where temptation hides behind every corner and desires lurk beneath polished surfaces, this tale entices with the intoxicating allure of forbidden passions. Beneath the daily routines and stern facades, raw passions simmer, waiting for the spark that will set them ablaze.

 

Venture into the seductive realm of Elise Cortez, the novice assistant whose innocence is tested and tantalized, as she navigates a web of secrets and lust.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Lapierre
• Release date: Oct 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223528203

Book preview

Prologue

Oh, my God, now I'm screwed for good. I don't know how I ended up in such a situation. I'll better explain the situation.

Do you know when everything is going well, and then a shitstorm shows up and a river of shits surround you? No? Then, I will have to explain better, and if yes... Well, we're in this river of shits together.

I'm a bit of a klutz, just a tiny bit, okay?! But it's that tiny bit of clumsiness like spilling coffee on the boss, breaking the office's copy machine, and knocking over the plant pots lodged in the corners of walls, among other little things I think are not necessary to mention here.

In short: I got fired!

I know, unfair. It's not my fault I caught the boss making out with the secretary from the floor below. I didn't even make a scene at the company, but this didn't cause my dismissal, I really hope not.

I was at work arranging the office's contract paperwork for my boss and quite innocently I dropped the papers on the floor, I went to pick them up and put the papers back again, however, I bumped into the table and my coffee cup fell on top of the papers. At the very moment, my boss walked out of his office catching me in an awkward dog-like position, I feel embarrassed remembering this scene, he saw me down on all fours and I froze because of the scene. I tried my best to pick up the papers as quickly as possible before he got near me, however, he picked up precisely the one soaked in coffee. Still in dog-like style, he looked at me with such anger and said or shouted: YOU'RE FIRED, ELISE!

I swear to god I pleaded that it wasn't my fault, that it was an accident, but it was to no avail. The contract paper he precisely picked was the one worth millions, dealing with the Italians or Spaniards, according to what he told me in the middle of his fit. He could've gotten another copy, it would've cost nothing.

Now I'm here in my tiny apartment shedding gallons of tears.

It does not matter now, I'm unemployed and the worst is that my rent is extremely overdue. I have one week to pay or I'll be kicked out of my cozy little place. Oh God, I must have been born under an unlucky star. Since being lucky is out of the question, and now how will I survive? I think I'm gonna have a heart attack from worry, can we have a heart attack like this? It would take a miracle to save me from this mess I got myself into.

Chapter 1

Luck has really never been on my side, oh my father, what have I done to suffer so much? Not that I suffer from pain, but it's like a suffering from nothing going right. Anyway, whoever understood, understood. I'm very desperate, but really desperate. How will I manage to get a job so quickly and in less than a week?

Screwed, done for?

How can a twenty-five-year-old woman, with a degree in advertising, not get a lousy job? In the three years I've lived here, I've changed jobs more than I've changed my beautiful panties. Oh, life's cruel, huh, and now how am I going to live? I'm not dramatic or anything, I just think I've really fucked it up this time.

And now Tica, what are we going to do? I ask my teddy bear that has been with me since I was seventeen, you must be thinking I'm crazy now.

A slightly older woman has a purple teddy bear and even talks to her as if she were a normal person. I'm not crazy and there's no reason to send me to the loony bin! I got this teddy bear a while before mom passed away, she gave it to me so I could remember her whenever I feel bad ....

That's it!

Do you know when a little light bulb lights up on top of your head when you have an idea? So, it just happened.

Mom, can you hear me from up there? I really hope so... You know my life is upside down and I need your little help. I know it's not right to ask for help, however, I really need it, mom! Can you help me get a job? Please, mom? I swear I won't screw it up this time. Just a little help, mom, a piece of cake. You don't even have to make much effort...

Yes! Now yes, send me to the loony bin, I've just confirmed I'm a crazed scatterbrain. Where have you seen asking for help from a mother who is no longer present? Well, I have really asked for help and I'll wait for her to help me. But I'll also look for it, since I only asked her for a little help. I think I'll ask for big help, it will be easier with the job, right?!

I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

I can't believe it! Thank you, mom, it took you a while, but you helped me. I got a job, like not exactly a job, I got an interview for a prospective position. Do I know what I am getting into or what position I'll occupy?

You can bet I don't!

But it's still a job, right? I'm so happy, finally my life will change, now I'll go to bed, after all, the interview is tomorrow morning, precisely at nine in the morning. Wish me luck, because, as clumsy as I am, I'm very likely to trip and fall on all fours when I walk into the room, just like Anastasia Steele.

Chapter 2

Iwake up to the horrific sound of a duck being strangled, yes, my alarm clock has the sound of a duck being strangled, there's nothing more to it. I get up unwillingly, and soon I remember that I have a job interview, for which I have no idea what role it is for. Then you ask me: How do you agree to do an interview if you don't even know what job you are interviewing for?

Easy! I need a job, they need an employee, I just combined business with pleasure. Mom, thank you so much, I love you so much and with your help, I hope I don't lose this job, it has to be mine.

The secretary of this Mr. Palmert, said he was urgently in need of someone for a job, she said that he would deal with me better regarding this supposed position, that is, even she probably doesn't know what he urgently needs. But I don't mind, I'll go to the end, the things a desperate person does for a job.

I get up and go to the bathroom, I do my morning hygiene and take a long bath, because, besides relaxing me, it will make me fully awake. I'm so excited about this job that nothing will make me give up on it, but what if I don't make it in this job like the others? God, I can't miss out on this opportunity for anything. I put on a worn blue jeans that flatter my bum and legs, slip into a long-sleeved white button-up shirt and put on my black flats because, excuse me women, I hate heels. I leave my hair down, it’s long and brown, I love them and do my best to take care of them. I opt for only mascara and a light pink lipstick. I'm not very vain, but I do my best to avoid any dryness on me.

I call a taxi since I have no clue where this address is. I check the time, it's eight thirty-five in the morning, and luckily I'm not too late—or so you might think. Actually, I am late. Traffic was terrible, and to top it off, I stubbed my big toe on a rock. I don’t know where it came from, but I hit it. My big toe is throbbing and I pray it's not bleeding—I hate blood and am terrified.

I arrive at the address, it's a huge company. On the entrance, it reads Palmert's Company. I've never heard of this company, but from the outside, it looks beautiful with its dark glass windows. It’s impossible to see the top of the building when you tilt your head up. Upon entering, I’m speechless at its beauty—simply marvelous. It smells of pure luxury, with a massive reception area, and several people moving back and forth in their impeccable clothes. But I have no time to observe, I should have been here at nine o’clock and I’m already five minutes late.

I approach the reception and a beautiful woman is in charge. She's blonde, wearing a flawless uniform, with blue eyes and enviable breasts... What? It doesn't hurt to look, besides, mine are very small, which sometimes bothers me. I approach the lady and see the name Michele written. She looks at me with a friendly smile which I awkwardly return.

Good morning, how can I help you? she asks kindly and so politely that I'm disoriented by her kindness.

I have an interview with Mr. Palmert and I'm already late! I reply, as politely as I can, hoping that my tardiness won't ruin the measly job opportunity that appeared in my life.

I'm sorry! she says after checking her computer. But there is no interview scheduled, are you sure it was planned for today?

Oh yes, it was scheduled for today, I say desperately, as the delay only increases. I arranged the interview with a woman named Morgan, could you please confirm with her?

One moment, she says and picks up the phone. Morgan, was an interview with Mr. Palmert scheduled for today? A girl is here waiting, saying you arranged it with her. Alright, okay. She ends the call and smiles apologetically at me. It was a last-minute interview, so I wasn't notified, she says and hands me a visitor badge. Last floor, just take the first elevator to your left, swipe the badge before pressing the button for the last floor. Good luck with your interview.

I grab the badge and thank her before heading towards the indicated elevator. I walk quickly as I don’t want to be late for another minute. However, I realize there are many floors—top floor? Seriously? I can't stand enclosed spaces and often avoid elevators, preferring stairs instead—there's no risk. I get in and panic when I see it's twenty-five floors—God help me to reach the president's floor.

After a small freakout in the elevator and a crowd of people deciding to use it too, I arrive safely on the top floor.

Oh Miss Cortez, we were expecting you. I'm sorry for the misunderstanding at the reception, Morgan doesn't seem much older than me, perhaps twenty-seven or so. A redheaded woman with green eyes, she is indeed attention-grabbing.

I notice from the people who got into the elevator, but until now, I have only seen beautiful and very sophisticated people in their elegant and well-ironed clothes. They all certainly have amazing resumes and are proud to work at a company like this—I wonder what my position will be.

Forgive me, I'm late too, I need to apologize, in case the owner of this place is an old, arrogant grump who can’t stand even a slight delay. My former boss was really a pain and would scold you for any little thing. I look at my wristwatch and damn! Almost fifteen minutes late—I certainly lost the opportunity.

Don't worry, he will understand after I make up a little excuse, Morgan smiles at me complicitly, giving me a small shiver.

Why do I get the impression that she really wants me to do this interview even without knowing me?

Ah, okay! I respond, somewhat suspiciously. So, is it now that I go in for the interview?

Oh! I'm sorry, I'll inform your entrance, just a moment.She raises her index finger and picks up the phone.Sir? Yes, she's here. I understand, but I forgot to inform the reception. No, I'm the one to blame for not informing the receptionist. I'll let her in and she better behave.She talks to him as if she were his mother and I pretend not to hear anything. She looks at me and gives a forced smileNo, Dante. It's you who needs it, isn't it? Better than the last one, alright.she says and hangs up, she looks a little embarrassedMr. Palmert is waiting for you, you can go in, darling!"Her smile smells fishy, maybe there's something else, yes, she's probably up to something. I nod and go to the indicated door.

Be careful, Morena! He can drive you crazy!

I turn around in fright and only now do I notice that one of the guys who was in the elevator is sitting in one of the waiting chairs. Who is he? He is blond with light eyes, the chair looks small for him and I have to admit he is very handsome.

Shut up, Matt, you idiot! Morgan reprimands him and Matt, whose name I now know, shuts up, but keeps chuckling softly and I look frightened at MorganDon't listen to what this idiot says, Dante is a sweetheart!

Dante? So that's his name. A very nice name.

I decide not to say anything and timidly knock on the door, as I don't receive a response I enter anyway. As I enter, I freeze at the scene I see. Standing and leaning against his desk, he looks at me in an interrogative way and I gulp nervously. Nobody told me he's so handsome, he's as handsome as the blond guy called Matt. With his dark brown hair and blue eyes, he's intensely analyzing me as if he could read me, and it's impossible not to blush and feel uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

I dare to assess my future boss and I have to control my heart rate, he has his arms crossed, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, showing the bulging veins in his arms. Men with veins popping out of their arms have always been my weakness. I dare not look any further, that would probably be disrespectful on my part.

Please, have a seat! he indicates the chair in front of him and I gulp nervously, forcing myself to walk towards him. Somehow, I feel like an animal being drawn into a hunter's trap.

I sit down in the chair, very nervous, and I fold my trembling hands over my bag.

He turns around and sits in his chair in front of the desk, I release the breath that I didn't realize I was holding and I stare at him. I think I would prefer the fat old guy in some way.

So, you're Elise Cortez, right? he asks in a husky voice, leaving me disoriented.

Focus, girl!

Yes, sir! I respond in a shaky voice.

Well, you probably know what we came to discuss, right?

NO! Nobody told me what it was. Should I tell the