Under His Billionaire Roof novel Chapter 8

Leighton woke up to an email notification at eight in the morning.

She grabbed her phone, squinting at the screen.

Her heart jumped when she saw the sender: Knight Security Solutions.

Noah's company.

Her stomach dropped.

She opened it.

Dear Ms. Hayes,

We're currently seeking a Senior Brand Designer for our marketing department.

Your portfolio was recommended to us, and we'd like to schedule an interview at your earliest convenience.

The position offers a competitive salary, full benefits, and opportunities for creative leadership.

Best regards,

Jennifer Martinez

Director of Human Resources

Leighton read it three times.

Then she threw off her covers and marched downstairs.

She found Noah in his office, door open, on a phone call.

He glanced up when she appeared in the doorway, his expression neutral.

She held up her phone.

Waited.

He finished his call and pulled off the headset.

"Morning."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't play dumb. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

She walked into his office and set her phone on his desk, the email still open.

"This."

He glanced at it.

"Looks like a job offer."

"From your company."

"We're hiring."

"You can't just. You can't do this."

He leaned back in his chair.

"Do what? Have my HR department reach out to a talented designer who's looking for work?"

"You told them to contact me."

"I forwarded your portfolio to Jennifer. She makes her own hiring decisions."

"That's the same thing."

"It's really not."

Leighton grabbed her phone back.

"I'm not taking it."

"Why not?"

"Because it's charity."

"It's a job."

"A job you're giving me because you feel sorry for me."

His jaw tightened.

"I don't feel sorry for you."

"Then why did you do this?"

"Because you're good at what you do, and my company needs someone good."

He stood up, moving around the desk.

"This isn't charity, Leighton. It's business."

"Bullshit."

His eyebrows rose.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. This is bullshit. You saw me crying yesterday and decided to fix it by handing me a job I didn't earn."

"You did earn it. I've seen your work."

"For five minutes. While I was having a breakdown."

She shook her head.

"I'm not taking a job from you just because you feel guilty about being cold to me when I moved in."

"That's not what this is."

"Then what is it?"

"It's me recognizing talent when I see it."

"You're lying."

"I don't lie."

"Everyone lies."

"Not to you."

He moved closer.

"I'm offering you a legitimate position at my company because you're qualified. Better than qualified. You're exactly what we need."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"Because people don't just hand out jobs to people they barely know."

"I've known you for fifteen years."

"You didn't even remember me a week ago."

"I told you I was lying about that."

"Maybe you're lying now."

His eyes flashed.

"I'm not."

"Prove it."

"How?"

"Tell me this isn't about yesterday. Tell me you didn't see me fall apart and decide I needed saving."

He was quiet for a moment.

Then he said, "I can't tell you that."

Her chest tightened.

"Because it's true."

"Because it's part of it. Not all of it, but part of it."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Yes, I saw you yesterday. Yes, it bothered me. But I sent your portfolio to Jennifer because after I looked at your work, I spent an hour on the phone with her talking about how we need someone who can rebrand our consumer-facing products. Someone with fresh ideas who isn't going to play it safe. And I kept thinking about your designs. About how they had personality. How they took risks."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not."

"Do you know how many designers I've looked at in the past six months? Forty-three. Your work is better than most of what I've seen."

She wanted to believe him.

God, she wanted to believe him so badly it hurt.

"I can't take a job from you."

"Why not?"

"Because if I do, everyone will think I only got it because I'm living in your house. Because I'm Chloe's friend. Because you felt sorry for me."

"Who cares what people think?"

"I do."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to be the girl who slept her way into a job."

"We haven't slept together."

"Yet."

The word slipped out before she could stop it.

The air between them changed.

Charged.

Dangerous.

"Yet," he repeated quietly.

She swallowed hard.

"That came out wrong."

"Did it?"

"Noah, I just. I can't do this. I appreciate the offer. Really. But I need to find something on my own. Something I earned."

"You would be earning it. You'd have to interview. You'd have to prove yourself to the team. Jennifer doesn't hire people just because I recommend them. She's turned down three of my suggestions in the past year."

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because those people weren't living in your house. Weren't. Whatever this is."

"And what is this?"

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. But I know it has nothing to do with this job offer."

"Everything is connected, Noah. You can't separate it."

"Watch me."

He moved closer.

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