Page 37 of The Rebel Billionaire

I pull a face, and she laughs.

“You will. You’ve been here for two days, and you’re already picking up the systems faster than I could have imagined. You’re a smart cookie, Brooke. You’ve got this.”

If I don’t, Alessandro will get one of the women he interviewed, whether he likes them or not, because at least they’ll be familiar with what’s needed.

If I’m honest, the past two days have been fun. I’m enjoying the mental challenge. I’ve always loved learning new things. Mum always said I’m resourceful and quick at assessing situations.

Callie’s inbox pings.

“Great, the report is here,” Callie says, pulling it up and sending it to the printer in one of the other rooms. All reports are printed behind locked doors so no one can intercept them.

“I’m in need of a toilet break. Little Button here is pushing on my bladder.”

I smile, thinking of the number of times Leah said the same thing when she was pregnant with Callum. It must be a thousand times worse now she’s carrying twins. My stomach twists sharply at the thought of what I’m missing, Callum growing up and Leah blooming during her pregnancy. I blink a few times.

“Are you okay?” Callie asks, a crease forming between her brows.

“Sorry, yes,” I say, flashing her my brightest smile. “Something in my eye.”

Callie looks unconvinced but doesn’t call me out, even when I grab a tissue and dab at the offending lid. Instead, she pushes herself up.

“Hold down the fort while I’m gone,” she says.

I pull out my notebook and begin looking through my notes.

Callie’s phone rings.

Oh fuck!

No, not oh fuck. You’ve got this!

“Alessandro Bianchi’s office. Brooke speaking. How can I help you?”

“Hi, Brooke,” an American voice comes over the phone. “No Callie today?”

“Callie has just stepped away.”

“Ah, you’re the Callie in training? Welcome,” he says warmly. “I’m Pete from the London office. I need to arrange a meeting with the big man and our Italian supplier. Can you do that for me?”

“Of course.”

I pull up Alessandro’s diary as Callie showed me.

“He has availability after lunch next Thursday, or Friday morning,” I say.

“With the time difference, we may be safer going with Friday.”

He gives me the supplier’s name and his own.

“Thanks, Pete, I’ll send confirmation as soon as it’s arranged.”

“Great, have a nice day, Brooke.”

“You too.”

I stare at the screen and open my notebook. We’ve gone through appointments and meetings in great depth, mainly within the New York office but, nevertheless, it can’t be that difficult.

I log the meeting, add the attendees and hit send, letting out a sigh of relief.