Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3 by Laura Burton (learn to read books .TXT) 📕

the room. Eight minutes until she could go home—or until she finished the hem on the skirt she had been working on all day. There were about ninety workers sitting at their own machines, in rows silently getting on with their work. The tiny windows let in very little sunlight, which did not offer the best lighting for Julie’s work. The department was tucked away in the basement; Estelle’s dirty secret. This was not Project Runway.

Frank prowled up and down the tables, his narrow eyes flitted from desk to desk, looking for a reason to fire someone on the spot. He loved two things; drama and being in control. He was also quite fond of peppermint tea. The minty aroma followed him wherever he went, and he almost always complained of a stomach ache.

Julie figured that Frank loved to stir up drama so that everyone couldn’t think about anyone other than him. Behind the harsh look on his face, Julie saw a pair of fearful eyes, probably dreading the day someone called him out for who he really was. A fraud.

Julie watched him approach a small woman with bright red hair. She was slumped over her desk immobile; she’d evidently caught his attention. He stopped one foot away from her desk and leaned toward her with rounded shoulders like a lion creeping up in its prey. The slow and steady rise and fall of the woman’s back told Julie that she might have nodded off—an easy thing to do with the steady sound of machines whirling like white noise. Yet an unforgiveable offence in Frank’s book.

Had Julie been any closer, she would have kicked the woman’s ankle or something. But being two desks behind only offered her a perfect view of a situation that was entirely out of her control. The sounds of the machines dissipated as everyone—including Julie—understood what was about to go down.

“Ms. May,” Frank snapped. The woman’s ginger hair nearly stood on end as she jumped. “I’m sorry. Was I interrupting a siesta? Pleasant dreams?”

“I’m sorry, my daughter is teething, and I didn’t get much sleep last night––”

“Oh, interesting. So, you think it is acceptable for Estelle to pay haggard mothers to catch up on their shut eye?”

Julie clamped her hands over the edge of her seat as her blood boiled. She imagined herself charging across the room to the woman’s defense.

She remained frozen in her seat.

The woman was crying now. Her whole back wobbled as she mumbled her apologies. Frank straightened and curled his lip. His eyes glinted.

“Don’t let it happen again,” he said with a sneer. The room as a whole sighed with relief.

Crisis averted. There will not be any firing today.

Satisfied the danger had passed, Julie returned to her skirt and finished sewing the hem. She resisted the urge to look up as she sensed Frank walking, his peppermint fumes lingering. She looked up expecting to see him gone, but he was standing over her desk. A rising sense of nervousness caused her muscles to stiffen.

“A word with you in my office.”

Julie glanced around the hall. Though Frank spoke in a low voice, she noticed the room’s attention was now on her. A silence hung in the air like a dark cloud. Julie swallowed and rose to her feet and followed Frank, who was looking at the floor.

It was a long, slow walk to Frank’s office. Wild scenarios flashed across Julie’s mind as she attempted to work out what Frank wanted to speak to her about.

“You’ve won the company lottery. Here’s a check for one million dollars. Noelle loved your work so much, and she wants to hire you as her personal seamstress.”

She was not sure which scenario was less likely.

They reached the small office and Julie stood in the same spot she was in when Noelle burst into the room the day before. Frank took his place at the leather seat behind his desk and lowered himself down like a king. He gestured for Julie to take a seat opposite. She obliged and rested her hands in her lap, waiting for her fate.

“I want to make it irrevocably clear that you broke a serious company policy.” Frank poured a drink and surveyed Julie over his glass. She eyed the tangerine-colored liquid, as he swirled it around, then swallowed.

“Are we still talking about the dress?” she asked. Frank put his glass down and closed his eyes for dramatic effect.

“The materials in this building belong to Estelle. Employees are not to take anything home. Not only could something happen to damage the product––”

“But nothing happened, it was fine. Noelle––”

“Don’t say that name in here.” Frank opened his eyes and glared at Julie as if she had uttered the worse curse word known to man. Julie fell silent and pressed her lips together to stop herself from humming with disapproval. Frank picked up his glass and stood. He turned his back on her and looked out the large window overlooking Central Park.

“Belligerent. That’s what you are.”

Julie’s mouth fell open. Frank was known to be paranoid about his position, always thinking the workers were plotting mutiny. Julie could not fathom how he came to the conclusion she was hostile. Did she not do everything he asked? The dress was fine. Noelle got what she wanted. The photoshoot went ahead and she even helped with that too. And when he shouted at the poor mother moments before, she held her tongue and just watched.

“You have a total disrespect for rules and company policies. And you often have a look of contempt.”

Flashbacks crossed Julie’s mind as she remembered Emily telling her she could read Julie like a book.

“I always know when you’re mad at me. You have a look of thunder on your face.”

Julie chewed her lip and curled her fingers, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

“I’m sorry, Frank, it won’t happen again.” She tried to sound genuine. But her skin was burning, it were as if her blood had come to a boil and was