Page 31 of The Rebel Billionaire

Come on, Brooke, you’ve got this! Breathe!

I close my eyes, then open them.

It’s not like I haven’t spent years helping Mum organise Foundation events. I even spent a summer working at one of the Frazer hotels before Dad died. Not to mention, I’ve spent the past few years building an audience of three million followers.

I swallow past the lump that forms in my throat every time I think of my deleted accounts. All that work building them up, only to lose them. Elijah blocked my access to the accounts and then deleted them after the scandal broke. The Seamstress didn’t need to worry. My protective big brother stepped in after he saw some messages I was receiving. No one wants to read the hate spewed by trolls and keyboard warriors.

I put down my phone and walk into the bedroom. Staring at my sparse wardrobe, I sift through the limited items I brought with me. Inconspicuous clothing. Nothing traditionally Harper, only items that will allow me, Brooke, to melt into the background.

I’m going to need to go shopping.

I pull out a trouser suit and jumper, then put them back. I think back to what Callie was wearing. Model what I know, don’t mimic. I pull out a dress that was once my grandmother’s, a classic vintage Chanel. I slip it on and stare at myself in the mirror. It’s plausible that Brooke could have purchased it from a charity shop or vintage clothes seller. Smiling, I lean down and grab some shoes, slipping them on. I turn left, then right, then left again. They want the perfect PA, I’ll give them the perfect PA. I only wish I had one of my many scarves to accessorise, but that’s a problem for another day.

I change and sit on the edge of the bed and sigh. Fashion, at least this part, is something I understand. The job itself, however, might be a different ballgame. Callie was lovely, but Alessandro doesn’t strike me as someone who suffers fools gladly. Good thing I’m not a fool. They’re expecting average student Brooke. Instead, what they’re getting is straight-A Harper in disguise. I’ve never failed at anything before, and I’m not about to start now.

I pick up my phone.

ME:

I’ve been offered a job.

SOPHIA:

Congratulations. What will you be doing?

Does she really not know?

ME:

Sue called. Apparently, I’m going to be working as Alessandro’s PA.

The message is read, but nothing comes back. Shit, is she angry?

ME:

Sophia?

SOPHIA:

You’ll be fine. Callie will teach you everything she knows.

Okay, not what I was expecting. My phone pings again.

SOPHIA:

But Brooke, don’t mess it up.

What do I say to that?

I send her a thumbs-up emoji.

To new beginnings.

* * *

I toss and turn all night, the fluttery, empty feeling in my stomach making it impossible for my brain to shut down.

I thump my pillow and roll over.