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THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 187
Keisha’s insights were the foundation for everything else that followed. Once I knew the right questions to ask, the rest of the interviews went amazingly well.People were so used to accepting the status quo, they just didn’t think about it until someone brought it up. But if you happened to stumble across one of their pet peeves, that was usually a match to a can of gasoline. In fact, if you knew their pet peeve, and indicated that other people hated that thing, too, they would go off on all the things that were wrong with the company.And because of Keisha, I had a whole laundry list of potential pet peeves.I think some writer gave a speech once that started with a joke about an old fish who meets two young fish and casually asks, “How about the water today?” and then swims on. After he’s gone, one of the young fish turns to his friend and asks, “What the hell is ‘water’?”When you’re in it all the time, you stop seeing it – whether the ‘it’ is water, or bullshit problems at a cor
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 188
It was funny watching people’s reactions to my presentation. Over and over, I would say something that would incense the head of one department – yet three or four other people would nod silently and exchange meaningful looks.Of course, we cycled through each department head getting pissed off, with all their coworkers nodding or smirking in agreement.Bryce, in particular, laughed the loudest and nodded the most vigorously, occasionally throwing in a “Hell yeah, you guys always drop the ball on that one,” or “Yeah, you screw that up every damn time.”Bryce did me a favor, though, in that most people’s ire got focused on him rather than on me.Even those who were seriously pissed off were deferential and polite, though.Until I started bringing up the shortcomings of Sales.“NO. WRONG,” he barked at one point, just a few minutes into the Sales part of the presentation.“I had seventeen different people tell me that, Mr. Smith,” I responded politely.“Bullshit. Customer service always
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 189
Just as Scott promised, the check came by courier service around 5 o’clock.I about peed myself when the runner had me sign for the envelope – and after he was gone, I almost cried when I opened the envelope and saw the check.$10,000.I’d received five times that amount a month ago – but this time it was different.This time I’d earned it.Anh came home at 6 o’clock and went into a screaming fit when I showed her the check. I joined in and we jumped around like two little girls at a slumber party.“I’m taking you out,” I announced gleefully. “And we’re getting a cab so we can get smashed. Where do you want to go?”“Lily, you don’t have to do that,” Anh protested.“Yes I do – I couldn’t have done this without you.”“Oh, you would have been fine without me… I really appreciate it, but – ”“Okay,” I shrugged, doing my best to keep a deadpan expression, “we’ll order something in and drink a $5 bottle of wine.”“No, no, I was just being modest,” Anh said cheerily as she patted me on the h
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 190
The answer came on the social page of the Los Angeles Times. I didn’t read the paper regularly, but Anh did, so we got it delivered to the office. We were taking an afternoon break as we planned our next consulting gig. I was drinking coffee and answering emails. She was sitting across the desk and reading the paper when she suddenly looked up at me with something akin to horror.I glanced up. “What?”Her eyes flitted back and forth between me and the paper. “Uhhh…”I frowned. “What?”“Hypothetically… if I knew something that I knew you’d want to know, but it wouldn’t help you and would probably just make you upset, should I still tell you?” she asked in a miserable voice. “…hypothetically.”Terror of the unnamed and unimaginable surged through me. I clicked through a list of things she might be talking about – my parents were in an accident, my brother was hurt, Connor – Connor.The newspaper.There was something in there about him.Our eyes locked, and she knew I knew.She started
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 191
I turned Anh’s last questions over in my head as I raced home.Why does he even want to see me?And why right away?For the life of me, I didn’t know.Did he have some important piece of information about Connor that he needed to tell me, away from prying ears?Was there some new horrible fallout over the photos?Was… was Connor going to be there at my apartment?The thought of that made my panicked heart skip a couple of beats.Ultimately, I had no idea what I was walking into when I parked my car in the garage and hustled up to my apartment.I was several minutes early – which, if you know anything about getting from Santa Monica to Hollywood at 3PM on a Friday afternoon, you will recognize is a minor miracle.I paced back and forth in my apartment, flapping my hands, trying to stay calm and failing miserably.Then the intercom beeped.I clicked on the button. “Yes?”“We’re here,” Sebastian’s voice barked through the static.We’re here.As in, more than one person.OH MY GOD.“S-sec
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 192
The first thing we had to do was wash my hair so Javier could cut it.He gave me two fancy plastic bottles with French written on them. “I want you to lather and rinse twice with the shampoo – really work it into your scalp. Then put the conditioner all over your hair, from your scalp to the tips. Leave it in for three minutes, then wash it out. Do you have a robe?”I winced. “Um… it’s kind of ratty…”“How did I guess?” Sebastian muttered.“I didn’t know I was going to do a makeover show, jackass.”“Just come out wrapped in a towel, I need access to your shoulders anyway,” Abby said. “But before you go in, I need to strip off your makeup first.”“Um… is that necessary?”“Yes. It is.”I sighed and let her get to work with cotton balls and some sort of makeup remover. As she worked, she gave me more directions.“I’m going to give you two bottles. Use the bigger one on your body with a washcloth, and exfoliate gently. The smaller one use on your face with just your hands, and do NOT rub
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 193
Abby pep-talked me the entire time she worked her magic.“Your face is a wonderful canvas,” she said as she did about twenty-five more steps than I normally do before I walk out of my apartment in the mornings. “You have really good structure. Like Tyra Banks or Uma Thurman.”“Yeah, right,” I scoffed.“You only see them after they’ve had people like me working on them for an hour… or two… or three or four,” she said with a sly smile. Then she went back to being earnest. “I was really happy when Tyra started releasing pictures of herself without makeup. She did this book on beauty and makeup years and years ago, and that was the first time she ever allowed herself to be photographed without makeup – so women could see what she really looks like. And since then she’s been a lot more open about it. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still cute without it… but she could walk past you on the street and you’d never take a second look at her. And don’t get me started on Uma. Or anybody else you might
THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 194
I walked past the waiting lines of limos and wondered if this was what Academy Awards night looked like. It was crazy.I made my way past the valets, whose heads kept swiveling so hard I thought they might get whiplash. I wasn’t sure whether it was because of my makeover or because they might have recognized me from the news. Either way they were all polite, and I entered the lobby undisturbed.The Dubai’s lobby was just as luxurious as the first night I’d seen it. Even more so, since the opulent surroundings were filled with men in tuxes and women in evening gowns – most of them gorgeous, others daring, a few ill-advised, but all of them worth more than I used to make in a year as a secretary. There were famous faces everywhere, too: movie stars, television stars, rock stars, all of them mixed in amongst dozens of older men and women I’d never seen before, whom I figured were instantly recognizable to anybody who read Forbes Magazine.Except for one quartet in the middle of the lobby
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