“Lizzieeee!!!”, I squealed through the phone.

“Yes baby”, Lizzie answered. I’m sure she was puzzled.
”Come over”, I said blandly, dropping the call.

About thirty minutes later, Lizzie came in. I was lying on the couch, eating ice cream.
She rushed towards me, looking concerned.
”Are you okay? Ice cream is a code for deception, right?”, she asked, touching my forehead.
”Lizzie-“, I started but she interrupted me.
”Shush! I know you’re hurt and I’m really sorry. I had no idea… I thought he was just gonna see you and offer to give you the job. Mon dieu, quel con!” (My god, what a stupid man!)

“Lizzie”, I laughed. She was getting really worked up over nothing.
”C’est vraiment un imbécile de la pure espèce! Je vais lui dire ce que je pense vraiment de lui!”, she fumed, making me burst into laughter (He’s really a fool of the highest order. I’m going to tell him what I really think of him)
She looked and angrily and said, “It’s not funny, Gisele”

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looked at me murderously then started laughing, “I’m going to kill you Gisele. How could you?!”
She jumped on me and started a tickle war, then we ate ice cream while she gave me tips on how to seduce a billionaire.
”You should be cla**y but

laughed along with her, then forced her to help

said abruptly.
”Huh?”, I asked, confused.
”Slate. I told you to call me Slate”, he repeated with a smirk.
”Oh sorry”, I said, blushing even more. Sometimes I really hated my quick-to-blush skin.
”Next time you slip, I just might have to punish you”, he said, smirking even more broadly.
”Punish me?”, I asked, not sure I wanted to know what he meant by that, my cheeks heating up more. I had discovered that the extent to which I could blush was unlimited, thanks to Mr. Hendrick.
”Punish you”, he repeated

a question. “Oh! My dad is French and my mom is from Texas”, I answered, still looking out of the window. I really didn’t feel like talking about my family at that moment.
”And you’ve lived here all your life?”, he asked, wanting to keep the conversation going, not realizing my current mood.
”No Slate. I moved here with my parents when I was 3. I’ve lived here since

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and we started laughing along with each other. “You should have seen your face sir”, I gasped out in between laughs.

eyebrows.
”Je fais de mon mieux”, he replied, making me giggle and clap. He spoke quite well and his French did not have an accent.
He bowed, making me laugh


”I hope you

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