Maybe I should’ve pulled it up. It really depended on what they were looking for, and I had no clue. In the back of my mind I couldn't believe I'd answered the ad. Mr. Dorian Black's personal assistant -- the gorgeous billionaire who rose to power and fame at just twenty-nine. I didn't have a chance in hell at the position, but Lord knows I needed the money. With less than five hundred in my checking account, I had about a month before I lost everything -- my apartment, my crappy car -- everything. This was my last shot besides working fast food. And what girl with a degree in business wants to end up flipping burgers? I hadn't had that kind of job since I was a teenager. Damn the economy! Looking at the other girls, then down at myself, I felt woefully underdressed in my T.J. Maxx blouse and Payless shoes. How did they afford designer duds like that? And maybe I should've done something different with my hair, but a bun was the only way to contain my wild brown curls. Did it look too matronly at the base of my neck?
