Chapter 4: The Secret Opportunity

Chapter 4: The Secret Opportunity

Charlotte

"Are you serious?" My voice trembled as tears of joy blurred my vision. "I can’t believe it! I’m actually going to work for a billionaire!" 

The weight of all my problems—the rent, Olivia’s university fees, everything—seemed to lift as I spun around in disbelief. Emma grinned, her excitement mirroring mine. We locked hands and squealed together, quoting our usual mantra, “BFFFF—Best Friends Forever, For Real and for always.”

I was so eager to rush upstairs and tell my mom and Olivia about the life-changing opportunity. But just as I turned to run out, Emma caught my wrist, her face suddenly serious.

“Wait, Charlotte. You can’t tell them,” she said, her tone cautious.

I frowned, confusion replacing the excitement. “What do you mean, I can’t? They’ll be thrilled.”

Emma hesitated, glancing at the floor before meeting my gaze. “Your mom won’t agree to it. Trust me.”

A flicker of uncertainty spread through my chest. “Why not?”

Her voice was softer now, almost a whisper. “Because there’s a… catch.” She stumbled over the words, as if unsure how to phrase the bomb she was about to drop.

“Emma,” I said, tension creeping into my voice. “What’s the catch?”

She hesitated for what felt like an eternity before sighing deeply. “It’s a male-only position.”

The words hung between us like a thunderclap. “What?”

“You’ll have to—disguise yourself as a man.”

The shock made my pulse quicken, and I took a step back. “Are you insane?” My heart pounded, frustration bubbling up. “That’s ridiculous! I can’t just pretend to be a guy! It’s wrong, and it’s risky!”

I stormed out of the room, my mind spinning. For a brief moment, it had felt like my life was finally coming together. And now, this? Was Emma seriously suggesting I live a lie just to get a job? The tears came before I could stop them, hot and angry, stinging my cheeks. This wasn’t the life I imagined.

I sat on the porch, staring blankly at the setting sun, trying to push the thoughts away. But they kept coming back, taunting me. 

Emma found me a few minutes later. She sat beside me in silence for a while before speaking. “I’m sorry for bringing up such a crazy idea, Charlotte. I just… I know how much you’re struggling.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes and forced a weak smile. “I know you meant well. But this... it’s too much.” 

“I get it. I’ll give you time to think. Just—remember, I’m here for you.”

---

Charles

Dinner with my family always felt like a business meeting. My father, Lucas Goldberg, the legendary mogul behind Morgan Stanley, sat at the head of the table, his expression a mixture of pride and expectation. My mother, Elizabeth, the powerhouse behind Silverstein Properties, sat next to him, with the same intense gaze. My younger brother, Noah, doodled absentmindedly on his napkin, clearly uninterested in the conversation about the family legacy.

“Remember, Charles,” my father said between bites of steak. “You’re next in line to inherit everything. The company, the properties. You have to be responsible.”

I shrugged, swirling the wine in my glass. “I know, Dad. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“You’ll need a strong personal assistant,” he continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Someone who can help you manage everything.”

“I’m working on it,” I replied, a touch more sharply than I intended. “Finding the right person isn’t easy.”

Mom gave me her usual reassuring smile. “He’ll be fine, Lucas. He always finds a way.”

I forced a smile, grateful when my grandma distracted the conversation by asking Noah about his latest drawings. Still, my father’s words gnawed at me. They didn’t understand—I wasn’t just looking for a PA. I needed someone who could handle the chaos of my life without crumbling under the pressure.

My thoughts drifted to the mystery woman I had spotted at a club last week. There was something about her—her energy, her smile—that stuck with me. I’d never even gotten her name, but she haunted my thoughts, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that our paths would cross again.

---

Charlotte

I couldn’t get Emma’s words out of my head. Disguise myself as a man? It sounded absurd. Yet, as I sat with my mom that evening, watching her struggle to keep the house running, I realized how desperate things had become. The landlord had visited earlier, angry about the overdue rent. Olivia needed money for school. And me? I didn’t even have a job to contribute.

Emma’s offer played on repeat in my mind. Could I really do it? Could I pull off pretending to be a guy just to secure a job?

The knock at the door startled us all. Olivia went to answer it, and I heard her greet the landlord. I stood up quickly, already knowing this wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit.

My mom rushed forward, trying to calm him down, but his tone was sharp. “You’ve had months. I need my rent, or you’re out.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore. Watching my mom beg, watching her fight to keep a roof over our heads—it was unbearable. As soon as the landlord left, I grabbed my phone and called Emma.

“Come over,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I’ve made a decision.”

---

When Emma arrived, I could see the surprise in her eyes. “Are you sure about this?” she asked cautiously.

“I’m sure,” I said firmly. “I need the money, and this is the only option.”

Emma took a deep breath and smiled. “Alright, we’ll make it work.”

---

Charles

The club was packed when I arrived later that night. Music pulsed through the walls, and the neon lights made the crowd shimmer like an ocean. I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off the responsibilities my father kept drilling into me.

I scanned the room, hoping to see her—the woman with the star-shaped birthmark. But she wasn’t here. Instead, I found myself surrounded by other women, all eager for attention. But none of them held the same spark. 

Still, I let myself be pulled into the music, letting the drinks and attention drown out the frustration building inside me. But no matter how much I tried to focus on the present, my mind kept wandering back to her. I had to find her again.

---

Charlotte

The next morning, as I packed up the few belongings I needed to begin my disguise, something nagged at me. This job was a risk—a huge one. But if it could change everything, if it could save my family, I had to take it.

I glanced at my reflection, barely recognizing myself with the wig and makeup. I was about to step into a new life—a new identity. Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from Emma.

“You won’t believe this. I think I’ve just found out who you’re going to be working for. It’s Charles Goldberg.”*

My heart stopped. The billionaire playboy everyone was talking about? The one wh

ose family owned half of New York? I swallowed hard. 

This just got a whole lot more complicated.

---