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The Billionaire's Intern, Book One: Life in a New City

Kathryn Kennedy




  The Billionaire’s Intern, Book One: Life in a New City

  By Kathryn Kennedy

  Copyright 2015 Kathryn Kennedy

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  Other Books in The Billionaire’s Intern Trilogy

  The Billionaire’s Intern, Book Two: Emily’s Chance

  The Billionaire’s Intern, Book Three: Making It Work

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Other Books by This Author

  Chapter One

  Emily was pretty sure she was in front of the wrong building. The building in the photo online had shown a place that was newly renovated with brand new windows and a new coat of paint. The view was going to be of the Hudson River in the distance. Not a perfect view, but at least Emily could say when she moved to New York that she could see the Hudson River from her apartment.

  Instead, she was staring up at a building that looked like it could have housed people on the lam. The paint was faded and chipped. The windows were so caked with dirt that all she could imagine were criminals hiding out in there. And there was a giant building directly behind the apartment complex, blocking the view of the Hudson River.

  Emily could hear her father’s voice in her head, telling her that her entire plan to move to New York was stupid and she was acting childish. If he had been here right now, he’d tell her that, once again, she hadn’t seen things through and was now going to live in a dump. She tightened her grip on her luggage. Emily didn’t want to hear any more thoughts of her dad. That was one of the reasons she had left home.

  Taking a deep breath, she opened the front door of the apartment. No security code, another fabulous bonus. Emily looked around the so-called lobby. Mailboxes were on one side and an empty front desk on the other. Music was thumping from somewhere above her. The walls looked dirty. The entire place stank of despair. The pictures online must have been ages old. She was on the brink of calling herself stupid again, but stopped it. Emily had been trying to be kinder to herself.

  She began to climb up the steps. They were metal, but creaked underneath her in a way that worried her. She was on the third floor. All the excitement that Emily had been feeling had drained out of her. Now she was just feeling a growing sense of dread. Emily stopped on the third floor and looked down the hallway. It was empty and just as run-down as the rest of the building. She had kind of been hoping that it would suddenly have changed into what the pictures had made it look like. No such luck. Emily stopped in front of her new apartment. 501B – this was it. She took another deep breath, slid her key into the lock, and stepped inside.

  It was clear that her roommate was already here. A strange assortment of furniture was in the living room. A red couch. A beige loveseat. Purple curtains hanging askew over the dirty window. A neon light on the floor, not plugged in, with a dark green carpet underneath it. Emily tried to recall what she knew of her roommate, Sareh, but not much came to mind. She had sounded as if she’d been in a similar situation to Emily – trying to get out of her current living situation, and quickly. She had said she could supply furniture and didn’t care what Emily brought as long as she could pay half the rent.

  But now she found herself questioning her new roommate’s taste. A radio was blaring in one corner and she could see a flurry of activity in another room.

  “Hello?” Emily called out.

  There was a thump and then a curse, followed by a black-haired girl sticking her head out of the room, “You Emily?”

  Emily nodded.

  The girl walked over to her. She was Asian, tall, gorgeous, and super model thin. She was looking at Emily critically. Emily was sure she would fail whatever the girl was judging her on. Finally, she held out her hand.

  “I’m Sareh.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  They shook hands and Sareh spoke again, “You just get out of Amish country or something? No offense, but your clothes are tragic.”

  Emily felt her face flush. She’d thought she had done a good job in trying to dress modern to fit into the city. She had clearly failed. Emily looked down at her clothes. She had worn her favorite shoes and skirt with a button up shirt. Was it really that bad? When she looked back up, Sareh was walking over to the kitchen, opening a box she had put on the counter.

  Emily cleared her throat, “No. I just got into town from Missouri.”

  “Same thing.”

  Desperate for a subject change, Emily stretched out her hand, signaling to the living room, “Are these all your things?”

  “That’s right. That was our deal, right? My stuff and you help pay rent.”

  “Yes. I don’t have a job lined up yet though.”

  Sareh looked at her critically, “You might want to work at that. Any ideas?”

  “I like to write. I was thinking….maybe at a magazine.”

  Sareh let out a loud snort, “Maybe that’d be easy in Missouri, but not here. You can’t just go walking into any magazine and think you’ll get hired.”

  “Oh.” It was all Emily could say.

  She was feeling over her head in every respect so far. Her apartment wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Her roommate definitely wasn’t what she’d been expecting. And now Emily was faced with the fact that she was being told she couldn’t even get a job at a magazine. She could hear her dad’s voice again, making fun of her.

  “Hey, don’t look so sad. If I were you, I’d get a job to pay the rent while you try to get a job at a magazine.”

  “What about you? What do you do?”

  Sareh’s features seemed to darken for a moment before she replied, “Modeling.”

  Emily had figured as much, but decided to stay away from the subject. Sareh didn’t look as though it was the best thing to discuss at the moment. She wandered away from the kitchen to the other side of the living room, where she guessed her own bedroom was. She walked in slowly. Sareh had already decorated it. Her bed was filled with a frilly pink comforter and bed sheet set that gave the illusion she was eleven. There was a dresser that had teddy bears on it pressed against the wall, along with a mirror that had a crack down the center. A bookshelf was against the closet door.

  It wasn’t perfect by any means, and sort of looked as if a little girl lived in here. But it was better than nothing. Sareh had probably given her the stuff she hadn’t wanted. Emily couldn’t blame her – she would have done the same.

  “You like it?”

  Emily turned around to see Sareh leaning against the doorway, “Yeah. What’s up with the strange combo of furniture though?”

  “Some of it is mine. Some of it I bought from thrift shops. I’m on a budget and had to work with what I had.”

  Emily nodded and Sareh pushed herself off the doorway. Emily saw a hint of a tattoo on her waist. Sareh slung her hair up in a messy ponytail and left Emily alone, going back to the kitchen. As Emily turned back to face her room, she suddenly felt homesick.

  Leaving home hadn’t been accomplished under the best of terms. At twenty years old, Emily was feelin
g the urge to strike out on her own and make her own life. But her tiny town in Missouri offered nothing that could ever interest her. She wanted to write and be a writer who could inspire passion, in articles or even fiction. The most her town offered was the chance to write for the local newspaper, which usually dealt with stories about yet another cow tipping.

  Emily knew she wasn’t going to make it there. She knew she had to leave. But there was another reason she’d had to go, another reason she’d had to leave, that she didn’t want to tell anyone yet.

  Pushing thoughts of her dad out of her mind, Emily sat down on her bed and tried to gather her thoughts. Maybe Sareh’s suggestion of a regular job while trying to get hired by a magazine was her best bet. She felt silly for even thinking it would have gone any other way. Obviously, Sareh wasn’t new to the city. Emily decided she would have to get a job, and quickly, so she could stay in the city.

  She just hoped she could make the cut.