Butt-dialing the Billionaire — Annika Martin

My imitation of our billionaire boss had everyone ROFL. Well…almost everyone. Worst. Butt-dial. Ever!

It was just some silly fun. A goofy imitation of the faceless mega-billionaire who owns our faceless international mega-corporation.

And yes, there was laughter. Possibly a few hoots and screams.

How was I to know that Dave from accounting had sat on the speakerphone, butt-dialing said mega-billionaire? Or that he'd listen to me make fun of him for ten straight minutes.

Ummm…he could've announced himself!

They say he's a notorious rake. A paparazzi-punching scoundrel. An international jet-set bad boy.

And now I hear he's determined to track down the jokester. Me.

Eep!

But we're tight like family in this office -- no way will my co-workers rat me out, in spite of the pressure from the top. Plus, who brings the cookies? Moi!

Things die down after a few months, and I'm pretty sure I'm safe.

Thank goodness, because I have my hands full with our lazy, arrogant new office gopher. He has the worst work ethic I've ever seen -- how did he even get hired? He doesn't know how to work a vending machine, and he's baffled when we send around a card to be signed for somebody's birthday. It's as if he's never set foot in a place of business in his life.

But little by little, we're drawing closer. He's funny. Sexy. Wicked. Still, he's all wrong for me. I like respectable men with a work ethic.

Also, I can't shake the feeling that he's hiding something…