The Broke Billionaire (ON HOLD)

Frozen On First Sight

Chapter 1

"Come on! Just do it!" I screamed at my reflection in the foggy mirror. I glanced at the halter neck dress my best friend, Sherry had picked out for me. The first job interview of my life was one hour away and here I was, naked and quivering with fear to wear the dress she had chosen for me.

Why? Why? It was because I was curvy and had the widest ribcage anyone could wish for. I wasn't size zero, I was a size twelve. I watched what I ate because one extra oreo and the pounds would begin to show. One extra can of coke and my tummy, well let's just say people thought I was pregnant. I was that bad. My boobs were too small for my wide chest and my ass, was a Jamaican hall dancer's ass.

"Get the hell out of there NOW!" Sherry screamed and banged the door, "Dylan Hunter, get the HELL OUT OF THERE, or so help me God, I will break this down!"

Knowing how serious Sherry could be, I wrapped a towel around myself, grabbed the dress and opened the door. I was greeted by a punch in the chest by Sherry. She knocked the wind out of me, "What the hell!" I grunted, rubbing the sore spot. Sherry frowned at me, her brown eyes twinkling with confusion, "Why aren't you wearing this?" Her black hair was dishevelled and her cheeks were red.

"Because I don't want to wear this." I simply said.

Sherry frowned again, "Dyl, you have to wear this. C'mon! It's Bateman Industries girl, not KFC!" I grabbed Sherry by the arm and pushed her inside the bathroom, "Take a bath, Sherry, we'll talk later. I am getting dressed so don't dare enter my room." I turned away without waiting for a reply and headed towards my bedroom. I entered it and closed the door, locking it behind me. I walked towards the floor length mirror and dropped the soaking towel. It gathered around my feet.

I stared at my reflection, why couldn't I be slim? Why couldn't I be hotter? Why did I have to be stuck in such a body? I sighed. My black hair came down to the middle of my back, I didn't have a bikini body but my stomach was flat. It didn't really have Gisele Bundchen-y abs. My thighs were two fat poles of fat just jiggling around when ever I walked. I was a walking wrecking ball. I just knew it. This job interview would suck and the looks that I would get would leave scars on my already delicate self-esteem. My eyes were deep brown, almost obsidian in colour. My skin was stuck in this everlasting shade of bronze and I hated it. It made me look dark, and I always stood out in the photos. All this was due to my half-Indian, half-Italian heritage.

Thanks mum and dad. I thought to myself bitterly.

I had to be interviewed for the position of a personal assistant. A job at Bateman Industries. God, of all the places why that one? I thought to myself. Bateman Industries was one of the richest companies in the world. It was an MNC, but it's HQ was here, in Manhattan. It was a producer of jewellery, watches, fine clothing, drinks and everything else that was required in the high life. There were a million people who would kill to be me right now. Having an interview was more than enough to send people reeling. It was not easy to get in but it was easier to get kicked out.

The company was spear headed by Nicholas Bateman, a twenty-six year old. He, apparently, had started this business at the age of eighteen, the capital coming from a very lucky hand at Blackjack. Eight years down the line and now he was one of New York's most eligible bachelors. I, for one, didn't even know what he looked like.

I glanced at the clock and sweared.

It was seven thirty, I had to be in the office for the interview in half an hour.

***

I walked as fast as my seven inch stiletto heels would take me to the Bateman Industries building. It was a majestic thing, all steel and glass overlooking the busy streets of Manhattan. It was imposing, and it made me shudder. It was beautifully dominant in appearance, it looked...great.

I walked even faster looking into my CV when I bumped into someone, causing the person to spill their hot coffee all over themself. I heard a deep voice swear, "What the fuck, lady? Can't you watch where you are going?" I looked at the coffee that had fallen to the ground, splattered all around, "You don't have to be so rude." I said and looked up.

I froze.

In front of me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He had brown hair all messily styled up, it looked as if he had just gotten out of bed and made his way here. His white shirt was stained brown due to the coffee and parts of his black trouser stuck to parts of his legs giving me a good idea of how well developed his muscles were. His eyes were hazel brown and framed beautifully by thick lashes...oh and did I mention the way the soaked shirt clung to the ripples on his chest? Oh God, he truly was Adonis!

"Can't speak?" He asked me rudely.

"Jesus, I am so sorry. I..here, let me give you my number, you can charge the dry clean-" but he cut me off by just walking away from me and into the Bateman Industries' building.

I sighed, and walked towards the entrance. I did a once over and made sure that my black pencil skirt had not ridden up my thighs. My white shirt was still intact and untouched by the spilt coffee and my CV paper was clean too.

"Best of luck," I muttered to myself and entered the elevator.

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xx

Aurora