Page 52 of The Rebel Billionaire

“You’re welcome.”

He pauses for a moment, and I think he’s about to say something when he turns and re-enters his room, closing the door behind him.

Did he just come out and offer me an escape from an over-friendly delivery guy?

No, he would have had to have been listening to our conversation. I’m just his lowly PA. Maybe he really does need these papers urgently.

I look down. They’re the reports I gave him earlier. I frown. He wants these copied?

I shrug. Who am I to question the all-powerful Alessandro Bianchi, CEO of St Clair Fashion House?

However, I wasn’t really expecting a thank you. I let out a breath, knowing next time I won’t need to think twice. I feel like high-fiving myself. A win for me. Although I won’t count my chickens before they hatch. Tomorrow is the real test. If I mess up, then all the lunches in America aren’t going to save me.

Papers in hand, I head to the copier and slide them in, mindlessly staring into space.

Once this is done, I can wrap Callie’s presents and make my way home… prepare for P-day and a goodbye I’m dreading.

CHAPTER 16

HARPER

Callie’s last day has consisted of me steering the ship while she fields visitors. She’s spent much of the afternoon as a weeping, emotional mess.

“These bloody pregnancy hormones,” she says, pulling the last tissue from the box as her latest visitor leaves.

She’s finally moved away from our shared desk and, like a queen, has positioned herself on the sofa by the window, holding court with minimal disruption. To say she’s loved doesn’t even come close to describing it. I’m surprised Alessandro has been decidedly quiet, leaving her to it. He has, however, barked a few orders in my direction from the confines of his room. It’s not my leaving day after all. It’s my induction into… whatever the hell this is.

“You’re allowed to be emotional,” I say, having just finished preparing Alessandro’s latest presentation and sending it to him for sign-off. “Enjoy the moment.”

I deliver another box of tissues to the table, which makes her laugh and then cry even harder.

She gets up and pulls me in for a hug, her growing bump a barrier between us.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she says, pulling back but holding me by my upper arms. “Promise me.”

I nod and smile.

“I knew I’d like you from the moment you walked in with Sophia,” she says, her eyes flicking to Alessandro’s door. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll come around. He doesn’t like change, and has yet to realise you’ve been in charge this past week.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you,” I admit truthfully, but I’ve never been one to throw in the towel, so I’ll just have to rise to the occasion.

Callie laughs again, the sound wrapping around me like a hug. She’s the same age as Kat, my older sister, and has, I realise, helped in my transition away from my family. Her friendliness has been something I’ve needed to get me through the past couple of weeks.

“I’ve worked here for over nine years, Brooke. I have a feeling that when, and if, you stay that long, you’ll be streets ahead of me.”

Her words warm my heart. Her faith in me is something I cherish.

Having always been Harper Frazer, I’ve never had to prove myself. People were happy to kiss my arse and say what they thought I wanted to hear. It was never something I enjoyed, but it was a fact of my previous life. Callie telling me that Brooke Feldmann is doing a good job makes me feel as tall as the Empire State Building.

I glance over and smile. “Well, you are loved and are going to be sorely missed,” I tell her, stepping back as the telephone rings on my desk.

I move back to answer it, Callie retaking her seat.

“Brooke, it’s Molly,” comes a breathless, slightly stressed-sounding voice. “They’ve sent birthday balloons.”

I resist the urge to drop my head to the desk and bang it up and down several times.

“Thanks for the update,” I say, smiling at Callie as she looks over.