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Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Tech Billionaire's Assistant

Octavia jumped so abruptly the chair flew back, and she toppled onto the floor. She scrambled to her knees and jerked up suddenly—and promptly smacked her head against the thick, heavy edge of the desk.

She cursed, scuttled backward on her hands and knees, and finally stood.

“You might have missed your calling on the stage,” a pleasant voice said. A woman stood in front of the door Octavia had left open, staring at Octavia with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

An enormous sigh of relief escaped Octavia’s mouth when she realized the speaker was not, in fact, the inspiration for her impression.

“Thank god! I thought you might be—” She stopped herself. “Um…no one. Never mind.”

The woman didn’t lose her smile. “Was I not the intended audience?” she said cheerily.

Her dark, peppered hair curved around her high cheekbones and stopped just below the neckline of the coral-pink pantsuit she was wearing.

Her bronze skin was weathered in some places around her mouth and at the corners of her eyes, but her face was alive with an energy that made her seem young.

“I never intended for there to be an audience,” Octavia said with a sheepish grin.

A look of mischief danced across the woman’s eyes. “Oh really? Not even a certain someone by the name of Kentworth?”

“Especially not him,” Octavia said, sliding the jacket off her back and draping it once more over the back of the chair. She walked around the desk to where the woman stood and held out her hand.

“I’m Octavia, Mr. Kentworth’s assistant,” she said.

The woman shook her hand with a firm, warm grip. “Yes, the young lady told me you would show me to his office. I didn’t see anyone in the lounge out there, so I just walked in,” the woman said.

Instead of replying, Octavia frowned. She felt that the face before her was familiar, though she knew she’d never met the woman.

Octavia gasped when realization struck. Her hand, still poised in the handshake, went stiff and cold.

“You’re Indira Bhandari! CEO of Curie Chip Technology!” she spluttered.

“Yes,” the woman responded without losing her smile, “that is what it says on all my business cards.”

When Indira released Octavia’s hand, Octavia brought both hands to her cheeks in amazement.

“Oh—My—God! I worship you! I did a paper for a class on you!

“I follow you and your company on every social media site there is, and I keep tabs on how your company is doing in the stock market. I even dressed up as you for Halloween.”

Indira gave a light laugh. “I don’t imagine you were very recognizable.”

“Well…not to most people,” Octavia admitted, “but when I went to a party for the Women in Engineering club, everyone knew who I was at the first glance.”

Indira smiled graciously. “I’m flattered.”

Another thought occurred to Octavia. “I guess you’re here to meet my boss, right? He’s not here right now. Won’t be back till three. He has a meeting with some big shot then.

“I don’t know who, though, it’s been kept pretty secret”—Octavia shrugged—“Probably some old, boring, super-rich dude.”

Again, the twinkle of amusement lit up Indira’s eyes. “I am a few hours early. I got so bored at the hotel I thought I’d swing by to see if he was here anyway.”

Octavia’s eyes, which were already bulging, grew to the size of dinner plates. “Shit! That’s you! You’re the old, boring big shot!” Octavia cringed. “That was stupid of me…I’m sorry.”

Indira waved it away. “Nonsense. I rather like being considered old—gives you an air of distinction, I think. Though I wouldn’t call myself ‘super-rich’…and I certainly hope I’m not boring you.”

“Of course not! You’re such an amazing person!” Octavia declared.

“I can’t even believe I’m here, talking to you. I guess knowing the Deplorable Ass is good for something!” The words flew out of her mouth faster than she could catch them.

“The what?” Indira inquired.

“Nothing,” Octavia said quickly, “I said nothing.” Again she smiled sheepishly. “…And if you could forget the last part of that…I’d be extremely grateful.”

Ms. Bhandari laughed, a warm, rich sound.

“Already forgotten. I have an idea. Since I’m rather early to the meeting, I was thinking of having a cup of tea at this lovely café I spotted not too far from here. I’d love it if you could join me.”

“Oh my god—yes!” Octavia blurted out. But then her bright face darkened. “But…I don’t know if my boss would approve of me leaving the office.”

“You’d be with a potential partner. How’s that any different from being with a client? And besides, if he asks, I’ll tell him it was by my request,” Ms. Bhandari said reassuringly.

Octavia thought it over for a second before looking back to Ms. Bhandari and nodding.

Seconds later, they were strolling out the lobby door, Ms. Bhandari having left a gaping-jawed Lauren with the message that they’d be at the Purple Lotus Café down the street should anyone ask for them.

It was a short walk to the café, during which Ms. Bhandari asked Octavia questions about her life, where she’d gone to school, and what she’d studied.

“And how did you become Mr. Kentworth’s assistant?” Ms. Bhandari asked once they were seated at a table in a secluded corner of the Purple Lotus.

It was a step up from the dingy coffee shops Octavia usually frequented—a huge step.

The space was large and decorated in gold, lavender, and royal blue, with a waterfall trickling lightly from a stone structure on one end of the wall.

There was some kind of shrine on the opposite wall from which lazy, twirling strings of smoke rose from sticks of incense.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Octavia said, stirring the creamy brown liquid in her cup.

Surprisingly, the Purple Lotus had hot chocolate on their menu, and they were accommodating enough to serve it with the choice of almond, goat, or camel milk.

Octavia settled on hot chocolate with plain, old cow milk. Ms. Bhandari had ordered a chai tea and an assortment of cookies.

The waiter had placed their dishes in the center of the gold-trimmed tablecloth with a flourish.

“May your meal nourish and replenish your body; may our service nourish your souls,” the waiter said before bowing and walking away.

Octavia had blinked at his words before taking a tentative bite of the cookie. It tasted like any other cookie to her; she wasn’t sure whether the cookie was of the “nourishing” variety.

To answer Ms. Bhandari’s question, Octavia said, “I needed some temporary work while I completed a project of mine. And they were hiring.”

“What kind of project?” Ms. Bhandari asked. Her face displayed genuine interest.

Octavia hesitated but eventually dove into an explanation of the computer program she had been laboring over the past few months.

“When I’m done testing it, working out the bugs and stuff, it should be a really amazing application,” Octavia finished excitedly.

“It will provide a clear, understandable interface for all kinds of companies. Just imagine if a designer could put their drawings into an app.

“Then one click of a button spits out the machine drawings, the assembly work instructions, the sales quotes, and the marketing summary. It could save companies a shit-ton of time.

“Plus, with the group work interface, it could provide different departments with a space for collaborative innovation.

“A place where they can communicate across departments without worrying about not being understood by someone in a different field!”

Ms. Bhandari nodded thoughtfully.

“It can’t have been easy to come up with something that complex. You must have used a combination of code from CAD programs, software applications—not to mention the mathematical analysis tools.”

Octavia shrugged. “Yeah, it took a while. And it will take me longer to work out the bugs.” She sighed. “It doesn’t help that I spend so much time with this assistant job of mine.

“I’ve barely had the chance to look over it in the past few weeks. I don’t know how I let Gracie talk me into this. I had to quit my old job just to be able to work on this project.”

“Where did you work before?” Ms. Bhandari asked.

“Oh, it was nothing.” She hesitated. “I was a…a software design engineer at Alta Solutions.”

Ms. Bhandari was impressed.

“Alta? That is rather prestigious. They’ve been one of the most profitable tech companies in the past five years. How long out of college were you when you started working there?”

Octavia kept her eyes on the spoon she was swirling around in the remaining liquid of her cup. “Oh, not long. Right out of college, actually.”

“If I may say, you seem to be an exceptionally talented young woman,” Ms. Bhandari said.

Octavia looked up. “Not like you! God, I could only hope to accomplish half of what you’ve done so far during my lifetime.”

“It’s really not that much.”

Octavia furiously shook her head in disagreement. “Yes, it is! I know everything about your career.

“You studied material engineering at college, graduated with honors, and then went on to do a master’s and PhD in semiconductor materials and microprocessor technology.

“Then you worked in a research lab with some of the most prestigious researchers on conductive technology before finally starting your own company.

“It was just you and a friend tinkering with samples of materials in a makeshift lab in your basement.”

As she spoke, the excitement in Octavia’s voice grew. The light in her eyes was shining brighter and brighter.

“When you created a prototype for a microprocessor chip that was ten times as fast and used five times less energy than the leading brand on the market—that was the beginning of Curie Electronics!”

Ms. Bhandari responded with a smile. “Well, when you put it like that.”

“Myself and just about every other girl in my classes—even most of the guys—we just idolized you,” Octavia continued. “And here I am. Sitting down to tea with THE Indira Bhandari!”

“But you already have had a chance to be starstruck, haven’t you? Raemon Kentworth is just as much a tech celebrity as I am, maybe even more so,” Indira said.

The light in Octavia’s eyes quickly died down. “I suppose. But knowing him makes a difference.”

Ms. Bhandari’s head tilted, considering Octavia’s words. “What makes you say that? Is he such a terrible person?”

Octavia reluctantly shook her head, “N-n-o-o-o-o…,” she sounded out carefully, “he’s not…terrible. Just…um…difficult.”

“Difficult?”

Octavia sighed, pushing her cup away from her. She stared at the table, noting the threads of the tablecloth fabric under the dishes spread out before them.

Her brows furrowed as she sank into her thoughts.

“It’s such an amazing opportunity to work for someone like him,” Octavia began. She was responding to Ms. Bhandari, but her words seemed to be directed to herself.

“A million people would kill to take my place. They’d die just for the opportunity to be his assistant. To be at his beck and call, to wring themselves out just to make whatever he wants to happen, happen.”

A short, spiritless laugh shook her body. “I’m the lucky person who gets to enjoy the privilege of being his assistant. I get to take orders from him all day.

“I get to experience his oh-so-charming personality, Monday to Friday, nine to five. Well, actually it’s more like Monday to Monday, seven—sometimes six—to whatever time the man goes to sleep.

“Which I’ll bet he doesn’t. He probably lies awake all night thinking of new and innovative ways to test the resolve of his unfortunate assistant for the next day.”

There was a rustle directly behind her, and shortly afterward a deep, ominous voice said, “You do have a flattering impression of me, assistant.”

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