by Nikki Bopp
“Hi, I'm here for an interview.” Giving her a warm smile, I'm not at all surprised when her facial expression doesn't change. It's almost as though she's frozen solid, her blue eyes locked onto us. “Um…,” trailing off, I glance towards the elevators in hopes that someone will miraculously appear and save me from this weird situation.
“Are you going to tell me who you're here to see or not?” She snaps, making me jump in surprise.
“Oh, I’m not sure who I’m meeting, but I’m here for the Executive Assistant position.”
“You're Jennifer Ray?” A familiar voice inquires, making me jump again—double shit. Turning towards Nicholas, I nod my head, unsure if our previous meeting was going to be a good thing or a bad thing.
“Excellent! Well, you're here to meet me, I’m the head of HR, and I'll be leading the interview this morning.” Flicking his eyes down to Eva, I can see the question already forming before he can speak the words.
“My babysitter backed out last minute, but I was hoping Eva could go sit in the lobby,” shooting the blond a look that assures her that would never happen, “Or I thought she might be able to go visit with a friend who works on the tenth floor.”
Nicholas runs his hand over his jaw, the rasp of his whiskers loud in the large room. “I'm sure that would be fine. Our meeting is on the fifteenth floor, so we can stop at ten to drop her off.” Gesturing towards the elevators, he stops briefly at the blond’s desk to exchange a few words but quickly makes his way to us when the ding of the doors opening echoes around us.
Neither of us says a word, and Eva practically crawls inside of my blazer in an attempt to hide until the doors slide open on the tenth floor. Darting out of the enclosed space, she lets out a squeal of excitement when she catches sight of Mia sitting at the receptionist’s desk directly in front of us. Her black hair is tied back in a conservative twist to match the business suit she's currently rocking. Mia’s sapphire eyes rise at the sound of the elevator ding, widening in shock at the whirlwind rushing towards her.
“Vanni!” Mia gasps jumping up from her desk to hug Eva. “Oh my gosh, look how big you've gotten!” Nicholas’ chuckle from beside me pulls my attention from Mia and Eva’s long-awaited reunion. We haven't had a chance to see Mia since arriving in town, but they still talk to each other at least once a week on the phone.
Mia and I grew up together and were inseparable until the day I met Jonathan. Another reason to hate the bastard. Being the amazing human being that she is, though, Mia didn't take it as an offense and still tried to be there for us even with Jonathan controlling every aspect of our lives. When I called to tell her that I was leaving, she immediately offered her couch and a warm meal. Fortunately, I had a nice nest egg hidden away from Jonathan, and I was able to find us a decent apartment with second-hand furniture sans any bugs or rats, so that's a good thing.
“Hey Mia,” leaning in to hug her, I'm surprised with the tightness of her grip.
“It's so good to see you,” Mia whispers just loud enough for me to hear, the waver in her voice easily heard to my trained ear. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, of course. Breezy had to bail last minute, so I thought that Eva could come and sit with you while I'm in my interview?”
“She can help me shred a bunch of paperwork. Doesn’t that sound fun?” Eva gives her a deadpan look that makes a giggle slip from between my lips. A smile stretches across Mia’s face when she turns back towards me.
“Maybe we can grab some lunch this afternoon? It's been so long since we’ve been able to sit down and talk.” Her blue eyes flicker between Nicholas and myself, her mouth tightening to a thin line, obviously wanting to say more but holding herself back in front of him.
“Yes, I think that would be awesome! I’ve missed you so much!” Pulling her in for another bone-crushing hug, I only pull away when Nicholas clears his throat in an attempt to move us along. “Alright, I've got to go, but we will catch up later. Eva,” my voice turns serious, causing her eyes to focus back on me. “You be good. Remember our deal?”
Her vigorous nod makes Mia chuckle and wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, mom, we’ll watch out for each other.”
“Thank you,” I thank her again, giving her hand a final squeeze before stepping back onto the elevator with Nicholas. We’re both silent as we ride up to the fifteenth floor, the only sound is the squeak of the doors when they finally open to admit us to our level. The typical marble desk is staffed by a particularly tired-looking blond who stands up to greet us with a forced smile.
“Welcome to the executive floor; how may I help you?” I've never been to an office that announces the floors to visitors, but her haggard appearance makes me brush aside the oddity. I'm not sure if it’s a good thing to work here, especially on the executive floor, if you look so exhausted all the time. There are hallways to each side of the foyer but no other person in sight.
“Good morning Ingrid, we’re here for the executive assistant interview.” Nicholas braces himself on the desk and watches as Ingrid rifles through a stack of papers on her desk.
“Yes, of course. I’ve been trying to get caught up since getting back, but I do remember seeing that here.”
Humming in his throat Nicholas gives her a sympathetic look, “Did you at least have a nice vacation before having to come back to this chaos?”
“Oh, it was wonderful, but almost not worth it when I do have to come back to this,” her sigh of exhaustion makes me feel bad, especially since it's not even nine am in the morning. She's going to have a hard day ahead of her.
“Well, hopefully, we can get someone to take on Angie’s position soon and take some of that stress off of you.”
“Yes, that would be nice. Ah, there it is!” Pulling a single piece of paper out of a stack of probably hundreds, her eyes quickly scan the document. “This is Jennifer Ray?” Ingrid inquires, her eyebrow raised in question. When Nicholas doesn’t answer, I step forward with what I hope is an excited smile.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“You're late,” She immediately answers back without having to look at a clock.
“Yes..uh, we had a bit of an issue downstairs…” trailing off unsure how to go about explaining my daughter and our meeting with Nicholas. She would be someone that I would be directly working with every day, and I certainly don’t want to come off as a bumbling fool, let alone give her the impression that I'm going to have childcare issues going forward.
“Well, you see Ingrid,” flashing her a blinding smile, Nicholas leans in as though he’s telling her a secret. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, and we had a bit of a collision. So, it is technically my fault that Ms. Ray is late for her appointment.”
Ingrid’s face doesn’t even twitch at the charming tone. “I see, well, I’ll let you explain that to Mr. Price.”
“Um, will I get to meet him today?” I ask, smoothing down my skirt self-consciously. I didn’t expect to be meeting any of the incredibly sexy company heads today.
“Of course. They prefer to interview all candidates themselves.”
“Oh,” my breath leaves me in a rush, my body heating up in excitement at the thought alone of seeing not only Mr. Price but Mr. Maccini and Roswell as well. My tone causes Nicholas to glance over at me with a raised brow making me realize how inappropriate it would be to fawn over the executives, especially with the head of HR in the same room.
“Mr. Price, your interview is here,” Ingrid cradles her phone between her ear and shoulder as she looks over the paper with my interview information listed. “Yes, I know she's late. Mr. Grant says that he’s at fault for her tardiness.” There are more words said on the other line, but without speaking, Ingrid drops the handset into the phone cradle before picking up a pen to scribble fiercely on a notepad to her left. A handful of moments go by before she lifts her head from the pad to give us a ‘what the hell are you still doing here’ look.
“You didn’t say which conference room,�
�� Nicholas prods.
“The main conference room,” Ingrid answers with a dismissive tone turning to rifle through another leaning stack of papers. Huffing out a breath, Nicholas wraps his hand around my upper arm to lead me down a long hall to the right. Rather than marble, as I’ve come to expect from the rest of Price tower, the walls are glass and allow me to see in the multitude of empty offices and meeting rooms. Once again, the unusual absence of anyone else filters through my head, but before I can question it, Nicholas steers me into a brightly lit room. The massive table can comfortably seat thirty people with an entire wall overlooking the bustling city outside. There is a large flat screen at the end of the table, a buffet table stacked to overflowing with every breakfast food imaginable, and even though I ate a bagel before coming, my stomach rumbles at the fantastic aroma.
“No breakfast this morning?” Nicholas asks, smirking at me as he takes a seat at one end of the table, his voice rising to reach me from across the room.
“No, I did,” a blush of embarrassment makes its way across my face. Instead of grabbing the chocolate croissant that I’m positively salivating over, I take a seat, making sure to keep a couple of chairs between myself and the head of HR. He gives me a curious look but doesn’t comment. Picking up a briefcase that I hadn't noticed before, Nicholas opens the top and pulls out a sheaf of papers to stack them into three separate piles.
“I brought a couple of copies of my resume with me if you'd like them…” my words trail off, unsure what else to say. Given the number of papers he just pulled from his briefcase, I'm sure there is a resume floating around in there somewhere, but I still want to make sure he knows that I didn’t come empty-handed.
“You owe me five bucks,” a deep voice crows behind me. The sound sends a shiver of lust down my spine. Twisting my neck, three well-dressed men come into sight and nearly sends me into a heart attack. The CEO, CFO, and COO are all focused on me with varying expressions from hilarity to annoyance. The annoyance from Daniel Price is enough to overshadow his cohorts, but when I jump to my feet, my hand outstretched in greeting, he simply brushes past me without a word. The smile I am working so hard to keep in place wavers, my arm lowering with his rejection. The only thing that stops it is the warm palm that encompasses mine. I jerk my head up in surprise to meet Patrick Roswell’s sky-blue eyes and a smile that displays every single one of his perfectly straight teeth.
“Ignore Daniel. He gets huffy when his timetable is thrown off,” we both ignore the grumble of annoyance from the other side of the room where Daniel has taken a seat beside Nicholas. “Good morning, my name is Patrick Roswell, COO of Price Research International or PRI.”
“Hi,” my voice breaks with the words. Clearing my throat, I duck my head in embarrassment before remembering where I am and jerk it back up to meet his gaze directly. His smile widens at the move. “Hello, my name is Jennifer Ray. Nice to meet you, Mr. Roswell.”
“Oh stop, just call me Patrick,” tilting his head towards the third member of their trio, he introduces him with an annoyed smile, “and this is Edward. He is our resident jackass.”
Turning my attention towards the CFO, I don’t miss the flicker of his eyes as they take in the skirt skimming my thighs. When I left this morning, I thought my entire outfit was very professional and well put together, but now I can't help but wonder if I should have picked something frumpier.
“Nice to meet you miss Ray,” his voice is deep and smooth, the one who crowed about winning a bet. Shifting, he holds his hand towards me, making me realize that I’m still gripping Mr. Roswell’s hand in a fierce grasp. Uncurling my fingers, I duck my head at his knowing look and reach out to shake Edward Maccini’s outstretched arm.
“Mr. Maccini, very nice to meet you as well. I hope your day is starting pleasantly.”
“It most certainly is Ms. Ray, especially since your professionalism just made me five bucks within the first thirty seconds of meeting you.”
“Uhh…” I drawl, unsure what else to say. He's obviously not hurting for money given the expensive sheen and cut to his immaculate suit. Before I can respond, a throat-clearing jolts me back into the here and now.
“Shall we get to it then?” The distaste is evident by the tone of his voice and the downward curve of his mouth. Such a shame, I think to myself. Daniel Price has those perfectly plump lips that every woman strives for. I wouldn’t have thought it would be attractive on a man, but couple it with disheveled hair and five o’clock shadow that seems to be ever-present.
“Yeah I guess, I've got a round of golf in an hour,” Edward moans, out of annoyance or excitement, I’m not all that sure.
“Very well,” Nicholas sits forward in his chair, passing around a copy of my already printed resume to the executives. Still, without even looking at the information, Mr. Price slides the page to the side. Leaning forward in his chair, he props his chin on his clenched fists, his elbows resting on the edge of the table as he focuses entirely on me.
“Why do you want to work for PRI?”
Well shit, right off the bat, he wants to jump into the hard stuff.
“Well, I am very interested in the goals of the company, and what it is that’s being done here. I feel like my goals very closely align with the company and that I would be able to help the company in profit, efficiency- “
“How many times have you read the business objectives of the company?” Mr. Price interrupts with a sharp voice.
“Um..I’m sorry, what?” Stumbling over my words, I look towards Mr. Roswell and Mr. Maccini for help, but they are both focused on the resume in front of them. When I look towards Nicholas, he simply shrugs.
“How many times have you read the business objectives for Price Research International, Ms. Ray?”
“I don’t understand –“I begin, my mouth snapping closed at Mr. Price’s scoff of annoyance.
“It’s a rather easy question, Ms. Ray. Or, if you prefer, you can just tell us why you really want to work for the company and forget about this professional bullshit. I have important matters to attend to and if you can't answer my question truthfully, then this interview is done. I don’t hire liars and people who are incapable of doing what they're told.” With the last of his words, Mr. Price stands up, his chair rolling away with the sudden motion. Buttoning the front of his suit, he lifts a brow at me, which only pisses me off.
Shoving back my chair, I wince at the sound of it smashing into the glass wall behind me, which thankfully doesn’t shatter at impact. “Excuse me? How much of an asshole do you have to be to fault someone for wanting to come across as professional and eager to do the job assigned? I wanted this job because I need a job, and I'm more qualified than anyone else you’ve had apply for it, and you'd be damn lucky to have me. I need this job so I can put food on the table and take care of my daughter, which is obviously something you know nothing about given the assholery that seems to ooze from your very soul.”
Inside I'm cringing at the words that seem to be spilling from my mouth, but at this point, I'm incapable of stopping them. And the tears I feel beginning to pool. Grabbing my bag, I shove the pristine resume’s inside, ignoring the crinkle and tear of paper. “Maybe you wouldn’t have such a difficult time finding a replacement if your CEO wasn’t such a dick.” A snicker of laughter follows behind me when I shove open the conference room door so hard that it nearly hits me in the face on the backswing.
Not letting it phase me, I storm back down the marble hallway to the waiting elevators. Ingrid looks up from her desk with a look of sympathy but doesn’t say anything, instead offering a mute nod.
I don’t know that it does any good, but I hit the down arrow at least five more times before the sound of shoes draws closer, the sound faintly echoing around us. Panic rushes through me. Is it security? Is it one of the men coming to tell me off? Thankfully the ding of the elevator arriving saves me from even more embarrassment. Stepping into the metal box, I am just able to make out a glimpse of Patrick Roswell b
efore the door slides closed between us.
Letting out a shaky breath, my body slumps against the wall in exhaustion. I’ve never in my entire life, spoken to someone so brazenly, especially someone that I had hoped to hire me but the moment the words spilled from my lips, I knew it was the right thing to do. I’ve spent the better part of my adult life under the thumb of my ex-husband. After years with the man, I learned to watch my tongue around him. A misstep on my part would quickly earn me a fist to the side of the head, or a knee to the ribs.
Listening to Daniel’s scalding words triggered something in me, something I haven't experienced in what feels like forever. Anger definitely, but below that, a string of arousal that I choose not to examine too closely. I've ruined my chances of working for Price Research, that’s pretty much a given, and I certainly don’t need to be jonesing for the CEO more than I already am.
My anger begins to morph, worry, and panic moving to the forefront. I needed this job. I only have enough savings to get us through the month, and with childcare, that’s going to quickly drain me of every penny I have. I don’t know how single mothers do it. Daycare costs more than a car payment! Luckily, I sold my BMW M3 for a beat-up Toyota the moment I arrived in town. It certainly helped with the deposit for our new apartment but didn’t take away the fact that it’s expensive as hell do it all by yourself.
I shouldn’t have put all my eggs in one basket, conveniently labeled Price Research International.
The ding of the elevator makes me jump in surprise; I didn’t even realize that I was moving.
“Mommy!” Eva screeches, throwing herself at me with a beaming smile. Complete happiness and excitement only makes me feel worse about my outburst. This little girl is the reason for everything.
“Hey, baby girl, how are you doing? Were you good for Mia?” Pushing a lock of hair out of her face, I can't help my heart from expanding with the joy that just pours from her innocent soul.