Billionaire Secrets of a Wanglorious Bastard Read Online Free

shit? All I could muster? “I guess.”
    The hugging turned into rubbing. “It's my job to let you know what goes on in the firm.”
    I wasn't sure what that meant. “Thanks.” I tried freeing myself by stepping back.
    She wouldn't release her embrace. And I felt her nipples pop up. “You made the right choice coming here. This firm is the best. It's not like any other firm in the world.”
    “That's good to know.” I stepped to the left.
    She followed. Still hugging. “Partners care about you, and we do work so interesting you look at your watch and feel cheated you only have twenty-four hours in a day to do it!”
    I didn’t know which was worse. Being mugged by a hug or her pep. If I was in a different place, this would be great. Since I was taken, this had to end. So I stepped on her toe. “Sorry.”
    She yelped. I felt guilty until she smiled. “It is good. It's all good.” When Lola is the most normal person I'd met, you know something's wrong. So no, it wasn't all good.
    Something seemed to catch her eye. She stepped out of the office and called down the hall. “Rick? Can you come here, please?”
    “Rick” looked like a corporate tool. Too much hair gel. Too stiff in his suit. He rushed to Xandra. “What is it?”
    Xandra pulled me out of the office and pushed me into Rick. “This is Rufus. It's his—”
    Rick raised his hands, palms out. Trying to avoid a hug? “Look, I'm too busy to talk, okay?”
    He skedaddled away with a quickness I’d only seen in animal attack videos.  
    I waved to him. “Nice to meet you too.”
    My “sibling” offered a most unwelcome shoulder rub. “Don't mind him. He's the firm's biggest biller. And my role model. You could learn a lot from him.”
    Her hand lingered and I shifted my body. “So, where's my office?”

9

    WE MADE IT to my office. It would only comfortably fit one child-sized desk and computer set.
    Xandra put her hand on the small of my back. Weird. And led me to the computer.  
    “Let me show you something.” She pointed to a timer that read “HOURS NEEDED: 100.”  
    “This is your billing log.”
    “My what?”
    “The firm needs to make sure you're getting all of the experience you can get while you're here.”
    I guessed she was referencing what people complained about the summer firm experience versus post-graduation full-time working. There was a joke that the devil and God decided to give a man a choice of how they wanted to spend all eternity, and gave a preview. Heaven was full of people bowing to God and singing hymns. Hell was a party. The man picked hell, and upon his death, was shocked to see hellfire and brimstone, whips and chains, gnashing of teeth. “Wait a minute. This isn't what I was shown.” The devil laughed. “That was our summer program.”  
    Xandra wanted to give me a preview.  
    “Billables are our bread and butter. Every hour you work on a matter that is billable, you log it in. That information is then billed to the clients. Get it? Billed to the client, ergo, billables.”
    “How much do I get billed?”
    “You'll be a first year, so your rate will be two hundred and fifty an hour. You'd need to bill one hundred hours.”  
    “How long will I have to complete them?”
    “The end of the week.”
    “It’s Wednesday.”
    She shot me a look that seemed to suggest I was the crazy one.
    “What happens if I didn't?”
    “Didn't what?”
    “Didn’t bill one hundred hours?”
    “A fair and equitable man will make a fair and equitable decision.”
    “I’ll be fired?”
    She stared at the ground.  
    “I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”
    Her eyebrows rose and she pursed her lips.
    “What constitutes billing?”
    “Working on a matter for a client. For example, I billed six hours last night and three hours this morning.”
    “Doing what?”
    “When I woke up this morning I was thinking about a dream I had last night, and I realized it was about work. I slept for six hours, so I'm billing