A Millionaire, His Suit, And Poor Me
A Millionaire, His Suit And Poor Me Chapter 1

I flipped through the pages of the portfolio without interest. It was horrible. I already knew my boss, Victoria, would hate it. With a sigh, I threw it in the trash. I sipped a coffee and, realizing it was too bitter, added another teaspoon of sugar. My door opened and my best friend and roommate, Jace, walked in. He was wearing tight black pants and a nice dark green sweater that brought out his blue eyes.

"Hey, bitch," he greeted, looking at me. "You look beautiful today."

I turned around, smiling and popping my narrow hips out of my leather pants. "I try."

"We have a meeting in ten minutes. I assumed you'd forget, so here I am."

"Thank God one of us is organized," I said, grabbing my phone and laptop, then following him toward the exit.

Walking side by side, we discussed the latest trends as we entered the meeting room. We took our places at the end of the table, mine next to where Victoria would sit and Jace at the one in front of me. We exchanged a glance and I tried to hold back my laughter as Victoria entered.

"Coffee, Noras." He said abruptly. I immediately got up and went back to the employee lounge. I waited impatiently for the coffee to be ready, then put a lump of sugar in it, just the way she liked it, and returned to the meeting room. She gave me a nod of thanks and the meeting began.

"So, next month's theme," Victoria began, looking through some papers. "I'm thinking about style in the workplace."

"I'd talk about leather, it's all the rage right now." Jace immediately offered. Everyone nodded and wrote on their Macbook pro.

"How about an article on female bosses? Powerful and sexy?" A girl named Alice gave it a try. She was a pretty blonde with a bob who never had original ideas, but once she had a good idea, she was able to put together a perfect article.

"Done and done." Someone complained. Alice glanced around until Victoria spoke again.

"I agree," he said. "We need something fresh."

Everyone tossed out ideas, some immediately rejected with disgust, others considered. I bit the end of my pencil and collected a few ideas. Then one came to me. So I waited for a moment of silence and began to speak.

"What do you think of the idea of being your own boss? Someone who got to the top on their own, worked hard to get there and has divine taste in style?". I tried.

Victoria gave me a strange look before smiling. I like her. But who does? Think of the people."

"What do you think of this blogger, Leighton something? She founded a blog that's becoming very popular. And she's beautiful, too." One man, Aaron, said.

Good idea. Could be interesting. Any other candidates?" Victoria asked.

"Oh my God." Jace suddenly exclaimed. Everyone turned to look at him and he clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Henris Steve!"

I heard murmurs of agreement around the room as everyone typed something on their laptops. Everyone seemed to know who he was, except me. "I'm sorry, who?" I asked with confusion.

Jace chuckled and sipped his coffee. "Oh, my little, unsuspecting, North Carolina girl. Henris Steve of Steve Enterprises. Self-made millionaire, only twenty-four years old. And he's super sexy, too. Always well-dressed. And kind of a mysterious bad boy that everyone loves."

"Oh," I replied, typing his name into Google. "Holy shit, that's cool!" I exclaimed.

Victoria stared at me, and I blushed in an instant.

"I mean, oh wow, is she... attractive?" I said in a voice an octave higher than usual. She rolled her eyes as I clicked through a few sites, ignoring the rest of the conversation. The first article is from Business Weekly.

Henris Steve, 24, is officially a multi-millionaire. His company and brand are growing exponentially, as is his wealth. He recently purchased a two-story mansion valued at 3.7 million. He owns six cars, each valued at over $100,000. His beach house is valued at 1.5 million. And he did it all by himself.

Impressed, I clicked on the next site. This time, from the blog New York Socialite.

British Steve was recently spotted dating Victoria's Secret model Adriana Lima. He could not be reached for comment, but Adriana claims the two are "just friends". But she's not the only woman Steve has been with. He's known to be a "womanizer", so watch out ladies!

Interesting. In English? That's a point in his favor. I was looking at the photos, intrigued by his mysterious green eyes, when I heard someone call my name. "Hm?" I asked, turning my attention away from the screen.

"Nice of you to join us," Victoria grumbled. "I just wanted to let you know that your job will be to get Steve to agree to the interview, since it was your idea."

"Oh. Sure, that's fine. No problem." I said nervously, writing my note. He gave me a strange smirk that I didn't really understand.

"Meeting adjourned. Noras, I expect an answer from him by Friday."

I nodded, closed my laptop, grabbed my coffee and left the room. I heard Jace call my name and slowed down so he could catch up.

"Do you understand what he just did?!" He exclaimed as he pulled me into his office. I shook my head and sipped my lukewarm coffee. "He's setting you up for failure! Steve doesn't do interviews, ever. She knows it won't work."

"Really?" I groaned, collapsing into her chair. "Not even one for a magazine as big as Vogue?"

"No," he replied. "Apparently, he hates publicity. He beat up something like six paparazzi. God, he's so hot. I bet she's very strong. I can imagine if..."

"Jace! Check your hormones," I ordered and he rolled his eyes. "I'll try anyway, I'll call your office or something."
"Good luck." He laughed as I left the room. I went back to my office and sat at my desk, gathering my hair into a ponytail as I searched online for a number for his office. I found it and called.

"Steve Enterprises, this is Jessica," a young woman answered.

"Hi, this is Noras from Vogue magazine. I was wondering if Mr. Steve was available to..."

"I'm going to have to stop you right there, Mrs.," he interrupted. "Mr. Steve doesn't give interviews. Thank you for your understanding."

I heard a click and the line closed. I squeezed the bridge of my nose and sighed, looking for another number, an e-mail address, anything. I found a work e-mail from Henris Steve and wrote to him immediately.

To: Henris Steve

Mr. Steve, the article for next month's Vogue magazine will highlight a powerful person who has worked hard to get where she is now. Someone who is her own boss. We agreed that you would be the ideal person to represent this. We'd love to interview you for our magazine. Please let us know if you are interested and which day you prefer.

Thank you for your interest,

Noras Wishe, Vogue Fashion

I waited nervously for a reply, tapping my red fingernails on the desk. It came quickly, a small sound echoed in my office. I opened the email enthusiastically.

From: Henris Steve, head of Steve Enterprises

Ms. Wishe, thank you for your offer. Please do not contact this address again or a restraining order will be placed. My apologies for the inconvenience. Thank you,

Henris Steve, Manager of Steve Enterprises

I couldn't hold back the nervous chuckle that escaped my lips the moment my forehead touched the desk. I repeated the action, louder. I remained in position when I heard Jace enter my office. "I take it you agreed," he teased.

I turned and gave him an annoyed look. "I sent him a perfectly written e-mail and he threatened to place a restraining order."

"Oh my God," Jace laughed. "It probably wasn't him. Chances are his secretaries respond to most stupid emails."

"So mine was stupid?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He held up his hands defensively. "For him, probably." I crossed my arms over my chest with a pout on my face. Jace looked amused and, leaning against the wall, said, "Want some advice?" "Please," I sighed.

"Go to his office. Talk to him in person. You're sexy and he obviously likes girls, unfortunately, so use your charm and try to get him to accept you."

"I have the charm of a dying horse."

"You're not wrong."

"Thank you for boosting my self-esteem."

He shrugged, "You're going. It's the only chance of getting a legitimate answer from Steve himself."

"Okay." I said, groaning. I put my chin in my hands. Jace winked and walked away. I stared at my computer, from where Henris Steve's stupid millionaire face laughed in my face. What had I gotten myself into?