by Whitney G.
I made my way into the ladies’ restroom and looked over myself in the mirror, smiling at the form-fitting red dress and sleek grey jacket Sarah Kay sent me.
A brunette stood next to me at the sink and pursed her lips. “I love your beige bag,” she said. “Well, I love what your bag is attempting to be. It’s like a terrible version of a knock off Birkin. Can you tell me where you bought it, so I’ll know to never go there?”
“Becca, stop.” Her blonde friend laughed. “You’re being a little mean. We both know she probably bought it at some corner-shop flea market.”
“That’s exactly where I got it from,” I said, sliding the bag over my shoulder. “The same place where you two got your make-up done. Although, next time, maybe you should ask for something other than the clown-face bitch look, you know?”
I walked out before they could utter another word, coming face to face with the tour guide.
“Ah, Miss Kennedy.” He smiled. “You can follow me now. You’re in Group D.”
I started following him through more frosted glass hallways. After we’d walked for five minutes, I realized no one else was joining us.
“Is there anyone else in Group D?” I asked.
“Nope.” He opened the door to an open and airy room with a white leather sofa and a coffee bar at its center. “It’s just you. Someone will come and get you when it’s your turn to meet with the board.” He made me a small cup of coffee and handed it to me.
“Good luck today.” He headed to the door.
“Wait a minute.”
“Yes, Miss Kennedy?” He looked over his shoulder.
“Am I in this group because I received the worst test score?”
“I honestly don’t know.” He looked genuine. “Even if I did, they’d fire me if I revealed that type of information.”
I nodded, wondering if I’d misread all of the so-called “signs.”
“For what it’s worth, your score can’t be that bad,” he said, stepping into the hallway. “The CEO is only making an appearance at your interview.”
the reckless rage
Kate
I PRESSED MY FACE AGAINST the massive window, trying not to check my watch for the umpteenth time. My interview was supposed to be “anytime between seven and seven thirty,” but it was now nearing noon.
Have they already picked someone else? Are they trying to figure out the best way to break the news to me?
My mind raced a mile a minute, but there were no answers to be found. No staff from Pier Autumn Coffee ever entered into the room to confirm or deny my thoughts.
Holding back a sigh, I looked down and spotted a sleek black luxury car speeding, then swerving into the company’s private turnaround entrance across the street. It parked right on top of the company logo, right above the sign that our tour guide specifically said was illegal.
A suited man stepped out, and then a grey and white dog jumped out from the passenger side.
Even with his back turned, I could tell he was an ass by the way the doorman slowly approached him. By the way he kept walking away without even acknowledging him.
I hope he doesn’t work here...And that his car gets towed.
“Miss Kennedy?” A man who looked about my age cleared his throat, making me turn around. “The board is ready for you now.”
I grabbed my bag and followed him down a never-ending hallway, straight toward an oversized black door. When we were halfway there, he stepped aside and motioned for me to walk the rest of the way alone.
Confused, I continued walking—trying not to stop and stare at the other subtle homages of Edgewood that were etched onto the walls.
I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, and I found myself inside the most opulent and stunning boardroom I’d ever seen in my life.
With wall to wall panoramic windows that revealed a stunning view of the Puget Sound on the right side, and the silver skyline on the left, I had to bite my lip to prevent my jaw from dropping. Its high-vaulted ceiling was stamped with wooden beams that held six shimmering chandeliers. The glossy mahogany table at the center of the room was set with seventeen plush red chairs―eight on each side and one at the center.
“Good afternoon, Miss Kennedy.” A grey-haired man entered the room behind me. “I’m Joseph Jewell and I’m the chair of the board. Our apologies for starting your interview so late today, but our CEO ran into a bit of trouble with one of his private jets.”
He has more than one? “That’s fine,” I said, smiling. “I totally understand.”
“We’ll have to start the first part of your interview without him.” He pointed to the front of the room. “Feel free to take your place there, set up any materials you may have, and let us know the moment you’re ready to begin.”
I obliged and moved to the podium. I set my purse on top of it and inserted my flash drive into the mini-device that was next to the screen. I organized the flashcards for my five-minute pitch and made sure that my cell phone’s ringtone was set on silent.
Taking a deep breath, I silently counted off in my head, like I was about to perform on a stage.
“And one ... two ... one, two, three, four ...”
“I’m ready.”
“Great!” A woman in a red sweater flipped open a folder. “Let’s cut straight to the chase, Miss Kennedy. We were highly impressed with all of your essay answers and the attention to detail. So, we’ll keep this simple. Why are you interested in becoming our new marketing director?”
“I’ve always loved advertising and coming up with unique concepts to lure in customers.” I said. “For the past several years, I’ve worked my way through ad agencies all over the country—with a few odd jobs here or there, and I’d love the chance to work on a much larger scale with your organization.”
“Do any of these companies have names with substantiated proof that you worked there?”
“Yes.” I opened my bag and pulled out the stack of portfolio files I’d crafted late last night at FedEx Office. “I’ve brought copies of my previous work and results, and I look forward to sharing them during my five-minute pitch.”
Her lips curved into a smile, and a few of the other board members sat up a bit straighter.
An intern grabbed my portfolio stack and set a copy in front of every chair.
“On one of your application questions, you mentioned that you’d be willing to immediately relocate to Seattle from your current residence in Philadelphia. Is that still true?”
“Yes.”
“Our marketing chief is now required to meet with the CEO and the board at least once a week. We’d prefer if you didn’t send an intern or junior associate in your place. Would you agree to those terms, if we considered hiring you?”
“Absolutely.”
“Would you be willing to―” She paused as the door opened on the other side of the room. “Ah, here he is now, finally deciding to grace us with his presence. Miss Kennedy, this is our Chief Executive Officer, Mr. Sean Holmes.”
A suited man strolled into the room, his eyes focused on his cell phone, his wrist watch sparkling under the shimmering lights of the chandeliers. He stood still and continued tapping his screen, enwrapped in a private conversation, as if no one else was in the room. As if we all needed to wait until he felt like talking.
He finally slipped his phone into his pocket and took a few more steps toward the table, stopping dead in his tracks when he looked up at me.
He blinked a few times, taking half a step back as he slowly looked me up and down.
I felt my jaw unhinging as his beautiful green eyes met mine, and I lost all train of thought.
His lips parted as recognition sparked between us, and I tried to rack my brain for an explanation as to why these people had just referred to him as “Sean Holmes.” Why they didn’t know him as the man who’d dominated my dreams for damn near a decade. The man who’d loved and left me, breaking his promise and ultimately ruining my life.
James Garrett..
.
Whenever I’d fantasized about him and all the things we could’ve been, I envisioned him exactly like he was in the past. Always wearing a white T-shirt that clung to his rock-hard abs and dark jeans that exposed his perfect “V,” always ready and willing to take me down, whenever and wherever.
But seeing him now, in a custom dark grey suit with diamond cufflinks that glistened under his boardroom’s lighting, put all of those fantasies to shame.
He was still staring at me—pinning me to the spot with his gaze, and my mind was starting to run wild with our old memories.
“We’d love it if you joined us for the interview, Mr. Holmes,” the man who was seated at my left said. “So far, we’re finding Miss Kennedy quite impressive.”
“I’m sure you are ...” His jaw clenched at the words ‘Miss Kennedy’ and he took his time walking to the table. Keeping his eyes on mine, he took his place in the center seat, directly across from me.
“Are you feeling okay, Miss Kennedy?” Mr. Jewell asked. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Maybe she has,” James said. “I’m starting to think that I’m seeing one, too.”
“Let’s get some water in here before starting again, shall we?” Mr. Jewell pressed a button. “Michael, could you bring in a water cart for the board, please?”
The doors opened immediately, and a crew of four placed pitchers and cups in between every person within a matter of seconds.
Picking up my glass, I brought it to my lips, and I realized that James was now glaring at me.
“Now, let’s get back to business,” Mr. Jewell said. “Carol, please resume the questioning.”
“Miss Kennedy,” she said, smiling. “We’re looking for someone who is willing to join our ranks for an extended period of time. We would prefer for this person to be permanent, but at the very least, we would like this person to wait five to ten years before pursuing other employment. Do you think you could wait for five to ten years?”
“She couldn’t even wait for two.” James sipped his water.
A few board members shot him confused looks, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I’m definitely looking for a permanent place to work,” I said. “I’ve been going from city to city for the past several years and I’d like to finally settle down.”
“Settle down is quite the interesting choice of words ...” James looked at my left hand and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t think everyone shares the same definition of what that word really means.”
“Excellent, Miss Kennedy.” Carol ignored his intrusion. “Just in case we do consider you for this position, do you have any travel phobias? We do have our own fleet of private planes for executive use, but some team members prefer to take the bus or the train.”
“I haven’t flown on a plane in years,” I admitted. “But I’m more than willing to do the oh-so-difficult job of flying on a private plane, if you hire me.”
A few of the board members laughed. James remained stoic.
“Do you have any additional hobbies outside of your passion for marketing?” Carol said. “I noticed you left that interview question blank.”
“How the hell did she get a perfect score if she left a question blank?” James intruded again, his gaze as intense as ever.
Mr. Jewell shot James a look, but none of the other board members seemed bothered by his outburst.
“Can you tell us a few things about yourself?” Carol asked. “Perhaps a few things that will be different from whatever is in your five-minute pitch?”
“Well, I’m a huge fan of coffee and—” I paused. I’d anticipated this question, rehearsed my answer hundreds of times in the mirror with perfected mannerisms to match, but I was done with fake smiles.
“I’m a hopeless romantic,” I said. “I have an unhealthy obsession with romance novels because they always give me a happily ever after, even if it only lasts until I pick up the next book. I’m the worst person to take to the movies because I always ask questions out loud and I like to guess the plot twists.” I let my guard down a little more. “I always order water at fast food restaurants, but I secretly fill the cups with Coke because these days, I can’t afford to go ten cents over my budget. I know my way around twenty American cities, and you may not believe me, but I was once one of the most promising cello players in the world. I also know, without a doubt, that if you give me a chance and let me show you all the things I can do, I will be the best marketing director this company has ever hired.”
The room was silent.
Every board member was staring at me, expressionless.
Several more seconds of silence stretched into minutes.
I waited for Carol or Joseph to say something, for James to throw out a rude remark, but no one said a word. They just stared.
Determined to make an impression, I decided to launch into my five-minute pitch without asking for permission.
I took a few sips of water and cleared my throat. “The most recent campaigns I managed were for Girl Boss, Inc., and Rain Tea Café. On page five, you can see my initial promo plans for each company’s product goals and the modifications I made over time to help them exceed sales of ten million dollars.”
Silence.
I moved on to the next part of my presentation—remaining enthusiastic, even though the members continued to sit quietly. I played a mock-up commercial I personally designed on their massive screen, handed out custom coffee cookies I purchased with Sarah Kay’s money, and ended with what I thought was a perfect promise.
“I understand that there are tons of other candidates vying for this position,” I said, “but I can guarantee that none of them will outwork me. I promise that I’ll surpass all your expectations, if you just give me a chance.
The member at the end of the table, a woman in a cream-colored suit, rose to her feet and clapped. A couple other members followed her lead, and within minutes, every member was standing and giving me a loud round of applause.
Every member except James.
Mr. Jewell raised his hand after a full minute, motioning for them to stop clapping.
“Thank you for coming in today, Miss Kennedy,” he said, extending his hand. “I truly enjoyed your presentation, and I believe I can speak for everyone here when I say that it was one of the best we’ve experienced.”
“You don’t speak for everyone ...” James tapped his fingers on the table. “I’ve experienced better.”
Joseph smiled at me, clasping his hands. “We still have quite a few more interviews to conduct, but we hope to have an answer for you by the end of the week. Thank you for coming.”
“Thank you for having me.” I picked up my bag and made my way around the table to shake every board member’s hand.
When I reached James—who was still sitting, he raised his eyebrow and locked his green eyes on mine. I extended my hand, and he hesitated for several seconds before shaking it.
His touch sent a familiar jolt of heat through my veins. Making me realize just how little it took for him to affect me—how one touch from his fingers, one kiss from his lips, was still capable of consuming me whole.
He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but no words fell from his lips. He slowly averted his gaze to my bare left hand, muttering something I couldn’t quite understand.
Letting his hand go, I immediately felt an emptiness. I moved past him and shook the other board members’ hands before leaving the room.
Leaning back against the door, I shut my eyes as my heart raced uncontrollably in my chest. I tried to process the interview, to think about the good job I’d just done, but all I could think about was seeing James. James kissing me, James promising me, James fucking me.
James leaving me ...
“Miss Kennedy?” A soft voice made me open my eyes.
“Yes?” I smiled at the tour guide from earlier.
“Would you like to join the rest of the applicants for the complimentary lunch on behalf of
the CEO, or would you like me to give you the second part of the tour?”
“Neither. I need to leave.”
“Um ...” He looked confused. “You need to go leave now?”
“Right now.”
(and) the pain
Sean
I LEANED BACK IN MY chair and tried to process what the hell had just happened. I blinked a few times to make sure that this was reality, processing the facts line by line.
Kate “Kennedy” walking into my boardroom.
Kate Kennedy still wearing red and looking sexier than ever.
Kate Kennedy looking for a goddamn job?
None of it made sense, but with every word that fell from her cherry coated lips, I couldn’t help but remember when all of her kisses belonged to me. When one taste of her mouth was enough to bring me to my knees.
When she laughed at her own jokes, I felt a twinge of happiness upon hearing the sound that once made me smile years ago. For a moment, I thought she was still the same, that maybe, fate was throwing us together again so we could start over. But then she’d introduced herself to the board with that fake sob story about not being able to afford a cup of Coke in a fast food restaurant, about actually knowing what the word “budget” meant.
Bullshit.
Nonetheless, I couldn’t deny the obvious.
Her presentation—lies aside, was honestly phenomenal. If she were anyone else, I would’ve halted her pitch halfway through and hired her on the spot.
That’s not happening today, though...
“Mr. Holmes?” Mr. Jewell cleared his throat, interrupting my thoughts. “Mr. Holmes, is something wrong? Your face is red.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Sir, there are veins popping out of your neck.”
“I said, I’m fine.”
“Okay, then...” He moved to the front of the room and clasped his hands. “Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we’ve just found our new marketing director.”
“No, I believe that we need to take a vote.” I sat up.
“Ah, finally.” He smiled. “Good to see you behaving like a team player, Mr. Holmes. Does anyone want to say anything before I begin the proceedings?”