But that’s all he knows. And keeping it that way just got that much harder.
Fuck!
6
Evelyn
If it had been up to me, I would have made this interview first thing in the morning rather than wait until eleven. Better to get it over with; it’s not like I was going to sleep in, anyway. I’ve been getting up early for work for years, my body is accustomed to the hours. Instead I’m lying in bed with over two hours to kill before I even have to start getting ready.
Two hours to continue to worry and stress about the first interview I’ve been able to land since leaving Edward.
At least now I know that he’s the reason for the lack of interest my résumés have been generating. Even without his confirmation on Saturday, I suspected he might have something to do with it. He’s a vindictive asshole. So now I’m left with him spreading lies or threats about hiring me all over town, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. Trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do is what kept me up all night.
Well, that and thinking about him. Bash.
Loud-mouthed, arrogant, son of a bitch.
Tattooed motorcycle thug.
Smoking-hot alpha male with the cock that could be used as a mold for beautiful, over-sized dildos.
Bash.
Bringer of orgasms.
Haunter of dreams.
The truth was, what little sleep I did get last night was interrupted by the image of either his grinning, stubbly face, or his monstrously beautiful, dribbling cock. In either case, when the images chased me, my dream body always found a reason to let herself be caught.
I try again to push the thoughts of Bash and his dick from my mind. I don’t need that distraction today. I have to get my head in the game. This might be my only interview, and God knows why I was even lucky enough to get this one. Maybe they’re the one company in town that don’t have some sort of tie to VI or Edward.
Whatever the case, I can’t afford to screw it up by letting my thoughts wander back to a one night flight with a leather-clad buffoon that I’d be happy to never see again. Even if the sex was pretty incredible. No one has ever gotten me that hot before they even touched me, and I don’t remember ever having come from just sex before.
Of course, a guy like Bash has probably been with hundreds of girls. Probably in that very back office. Even still, when he asked me if I wanted to stay for another round, I was tempted to say yes. When would I ever have sex like that again? With someone like that again? The Evelyn that took over my body that night wasn’t me, but now that I’ve had time to reflect, I don’t regret it. In a lot of ways, that Evelyn was a version of me that I really wish existed. A more laid back Evelyn, more willing to take risks and go with the flow.
And getting fucked by the most dangerous man I’d ever been close enough to touch sure was a risk.
A risk I haven’t been able to get out of my head all day yesterday, or last night.
I need to get it out. I need to forget about that one-time, throwaway encounter and move on. I’ve been out of work for a couple of weeks now, and if I don’t land a job soon, money is going to start to get tight. Edward paid me well, but he also convinced me to move into this apartment, which was only affordable on the salary he was paying me. When I moved in with him, I kept it around. Partly because we were so busy I hadn’t had time to move all my stuff over to his place, but I think partly because I wanted to make sure things worked out. Me trying to minimize my risks again.
I bet Bash has never passed up an opportunity to minimize risks. He probably does things just because they’re risky. He’s an outlaw, living like he does because he’s an adrenaline junkie. He lives hard and fucks harder. Oh God, does he fuck hard.
It’s no use. I have an abundance of time and stress that I need to reduce, and thoughts of Bash that I need to banish. I need to tell someone my secrets. And who better than Jackie?
She’s my best friend. That’s what she’s here for. Right?
I get out of bed, grab my cordless landline, and plug in her number. Usually, I’d text her at this hour. Jackie works as a waitress and she’s almost never up before the afternoon when she has to go in, and texting saves me getting chewed out for waking her up.
But to my surprise, she picks up on the second ring. “Good morning, sunshine,” she chirps.
“Good morning to you, too,” I reply, a bemused smile tickling my lips. “What’s got you up already?”
“Coffee, mostly,” she laughs. “And I had to walk that bartender from Axle’s to the door. Seems he’s an early riser, and in more ways than one.”
I roll my eyes. I was hoping to get my mind out of the gutter, and yet here I am, listening to my best friend’s sexcapades and feeling jealous. I could have done with a morning lay, myself. There’s no better way to relieve this kind of tension, other than forgetting about it completely. I’m hoping spilling the beans will help.
“I was in a similar situation Saturday night,” I confess, padding out to my living room. “With Bash. You remember—the guy who chased off Edward.”
“Oh, my God,” she whispers. “I wondered where you disappeared to, but when you came back out you didn’t say anything! You skank!”
I laugh. “You were rather preoccupied with Andy that night. If I recall, you sent me home on my own so you could wait around for him to get off work, remember? And Bash wore me out enough I just wanted to go home to bed instead of waiting around.”
“You’re right. Damn.” I can almost hear her shaking her head at me. “So, how was it? Do those muscles hold up when it counts?”
“Definitely,” I say, starting up my own Keurig coffee pod. “Kinda wish he’d kept his mouth shut, though. Guys like that are meant to be seen and not heard, I think. It’s better that way.”
Jackie cackles. “Listen to you, Evelyn! I think I’m rubbing off on you, finally. Did it help? You know, your mood.”
“Mostly.” I drum my fingers on the counter, waiting for my coffee to percolate. “But now… I can’t stop thinking about it. I know, it’s silly. It was just a one-night stand. And I don’t really want a guy like that…”
“Damn right, you don’t,” Jackie says, cutting me off. “Not for a relationship, anyway. But a little casual sex won’t kill you. But you’re right, you just got out of a relationship. You don’t need to be jumping into another one just yet, especially not with a guy named Bash. When the time comes, you want someone stable. Someone who can take care of you, when the chips are down. Someone who doesn’t make a living breaking pool cues over people’s heads, you know? Besides, that’s more my type…”
I sigh. She’s right. And this is exactly what I need to hear, what I need to get Bash out of my head. He’s no good for me long-term, and the kind of girl I am at heart, I couldn’t make it a casual thing without wanting to get more deeply involved. I’d basically be trading one awful relationship for another. Edward was a controlling bastard, sure, but his weakness was a wall of muscle like Bash. If Bash turned out to be a problem, who could stand up against him? What was his weakness?
No. He’s dangerous. Jackie’s right. Even if that’s the very thing that turns me on about him…
“That helps,” I say. “Keep it coming.”
“You don’t need a man muddling things up right now for more reasons than that,” she continues. “Sure, I worry about your heart, but I also worry about your career. And I know you do, too. That’s what you ought to be focused on right now, Evelyn—getting a new job, getting your foot in the door, climbing that corporate ladder. You’re so much better than what they give you credit for, hun. You weren’t meant to be an executive assistant forever.”
I’ve talked with Jackie about this very thing plenty of times. She knows my aspirations. She knows what I went through with VI, and how underappreciated—and overutilized—I was there. Sometimes, it didn’t pay to show aptitude at projects outside your job description. Too many people were willing to take advantage of that, es
pecially billionaire CEOs always looking to cut costs somewhere.
At my next job, I’m going to have to show them that I’m capable, but aware of my value. I won’t let myself be bullied into performing multiple jobs while only being paid for one. Not ever again. I deserve the pay and the credit. And like Jackie said, having a man around would just be distracting. I owe it to myself to stay focused on my future.
I straighten a little, my resolve reignited. “You’re a real friend, Jackie. Thank you for reminding me that I have a right to a life that’s all about me. At least, for now.”
“Anytime, Evelyn.” I can hear the grin in her tone. “Now, how about I tell you how my night was?”
“Later,” I promise her. “You just got my mind off sex, and I’m afraid if we start talking about it again, I’ll find myself in the same state I was before I called you. I’ll call you after my interview today, and you can tell me all about it then—all the dirty details.”
“It’s a date, love you,” Jackie says before hanging up.
I set the phone down on my kitchen counter, thinking over how far I’d come. I’m not a vulnerable teenage girl anymore. I’m not an outcast, not the sweet baby bird I used to be. I’m a grown woman now, in charge of her own destiny. It’s a powerful realization, and one that takes the weight of the world off my shoulders… for now, anyway.
Confidence. Confidence is the key to success. After getting fucked by a veritable sex god last night, listening to a pep talk from my best friend this morning, and basking in the results of my own introspection, I feel like I can do anything now.
Except get Bash out of my mind. No matter how hard I try to forget him, or tell myself otherwise, he’s there in the back of my head, the memory of his arrogant smirk making my body betray my brain.
Don’t be so hard on yourself, I think as I sip my coffee and stare out the window at the waking city, even Hercules had a weakness.
But did mine have to be a criminal I’d probably never see again?
Even after my quick dildo date and nap, I’m still a few minutes early for my interview. I’m nervous, but I’ve done all I can do at this point. I spent extra time fixing my hair into a half up-do that frames my face, and I’m wearing a black jacket, striking red blouse, and long pencil skirt that ends conservatively around my knees. I even spent more time on my makeup than usual. If I don’t look the part of an executive assistant now, then I don’t know my job as well as I think.
I’ve also researched the hell out of this company. Piston, Inc.
After not hearing back from my first round of résumés, I got a little less discerning last week and began sending them out to a wider range of companies. I’d never heard of Piston before seeing them advertise on the job site, but a quick Google search told me all I needed to know for this interview.
The company is less than ten years old, but has already made a name for itself by building and designing quality engine parts. They’re worldwide and went public only last month, but they’re already valued at north of a billion dollars and have a few thousand employees. It’s a big company, but VI was far bigger, so the size itself doesn’t intimidate me.
There have been a few executive changes in the past, but the current CEO, Hans Peterson, took over about five years ago. I’m not sure I’ll even meet him, though, as the position I’m applying for is to assist one of the executives, which is perfect. I’m done with CEOs for now. I need time to step back and lick my wounds after Edward. I thought I was on track to become an executive myself at VI, but all of that work is lost. Edward would never back up any claims I could make as to the work I did over there beyond being a straight EA. The deals I worked on, sometimes on my own, the relationships I built with clients. It’s unfair, but given the power Edward wields, it’s clear that all I can do is learn from it and move on.
For now, I’ll be happy just finding the right company that I fit into and then deciding on where to go from there. Piston is likely just a stepping stone toward that. But I need something to put on my résumé now that VI has left an unreferenceable void.
The building I’m in now is their new headquarters, right in downtown Chicago. It’s a uniquely designed building that is tall and starts thinner at the bottom and then tapering out at the top. From what I read, the shape was supposed to be reminiscent of an actual piston. I’ll have to take their word for it.
The interview is on the twenty-ninth floor, which, according to the rows of elevator buttons in front of me, is second from the top. At this hour, I’m the only one going up. Piston owns the entire building, with the executive offices on top and sales and R&D down below. Manufacturing is done mostly overseas.
I learned all of that while researching them online. Exceptional research skills is one of the strengths I list on my résumé. Most people think that searching for something online begins and ends with putting a term into the Google box and hitting “search,” but there’s so much more to it than that. I can usually find a lot more about a company or client than is on their typical homepage with a little bit of effort.
Usually.
Piston wasn’t the only thing I had time to research this morning. Just out of curiosity, I looked up the Chrome Soldiers MC. There was surprisingly little info about them out there. I guess motorcycle gangs aren’t generally looking for publicity, but some of the bigger clubs at least had a website, or some mention of them. I did find a couple of passing references, but nothing major. It could just be that they are too small time to get much media attention. Finding that out made me feel a little bit better, anyway. At least it wasn’t like I slept with a contemporary of the Hell’s Angels.
Probably. I guess it could also mean that they just haven’t been caught doing whatever it is they do, yet.
The elevator chime brings my thoughts back to the present and I shake away the remnants of leather and stubble that seem to still be drifting through my head. I need to focus on this interview. Right now, this job is my only hope.
The reception foyer is mostly decorated in shades of gray and black, with smoky glass tables and a lot of sharp angles. Behind a big desk made of metal with chrome finishings sits a woman staring at a computer screen. Her eyes flit over to me as I approach, and she smiles.
“Evelyn Silver to see Miss Li?” I say.
The receptionist nods and stands. “Of course, she told me to bring you right in. Follow me.”
I’m led through a door behind her desk and down a corridor until we reach an office. The name plate says Catherine Li, HR. After a quick knock, the door opens and the receptionist nods a goodbye as a young Asian woman greets me.
“Miss Silver?”
“Yes, how do you do?” I ask, shaking her hand. Catherine smiles and motions to a chair as she closes the door.
“So,” she says, picking my résumé up from her desk and glancing down at it, “tell me about yourself, Evelyn.”
It’s a question I’m completely prepared for, and I launch into the best sales pitch of myself that I can. Catherine listens and asks a few follow-up questions, and within twenty minutes I’m feeling much more confident. I can tell from her body language that Catherine is satisfied, and even impressed, with my answers.
“Well, you certainly sound qualified for this job,” she says at last. “I assume at this point you might be interested to hear more about the specific position and who you’d be working for?”
My heart starts to beat a little bit faster as a smile breaks out across my face. “Absolutely.”
Catherine turns and opens up a drawer in her desk, removing some papers and placing them between us. “At this point, then, I will require you to sign an NDA. There are certain aspects of the company that we wish to keep secret, but that we will need to discuss if we are to give you more information. I realize it is not completely standard to sign an NDA during an interview, however, it is absolutely a requirement if you wish to proceed. Feel free to take all the time you need in reading it.”
I nod as I pick up the pap
ers. I’ve worked with enough NDAs under Edward to know whether or not they were on the up and up, so it only takes a quick skim to see that she’s telling the truth. There is nothing out of the ordinary about it, so I see no harm in signing it.
“Excellent,” Catherine says, as soon as I drop the pen back down onto the table. “So, this position is very similar to the one you described working in at your last company. The only difference, or at least the main difference, is in who you will be working for.”
“Right, I understand that it won’t be for the CEO. I’m okay with that.” She’s probably worried that I’d consider reporting to anyone less than the CEO a step down, but in reality, it is exactly what I’m looking for.
Catherine purses her lips for a moment and nods. “Piston is structured a little bit differently than most companies, but Mr. Redding has asked me to allow him to explain.”
“Mr. Redding?” I ask. Catherine stands up and so do I, as a reflex.
“Yes, he’s the one you’ll be reporting to, and if you’ll follow me, he’s also the one that will take over the interview from this point. He has asked to meet personally with any candidate’s that I feel are qualified, and as I mentioned, you certainly are that.”
“Uh, sure,” I say. My earlier confidence is waning a bit, but I remind myself it’s perfectly normal to have a second interview with the person that you would be directly reporting to. There’s no reason to worry now. It’s a good thing, in fact. They aren’t making me wait by the phone for days and then have to come back for a second interview. She thinks I’m qualified enough to go straight through.
By the time we get back to reception, I’m walking a little bit taller and the smile is back on my face.
“He’s just above us,” she says as she leads us into the elevator and presses the number thirty.
Bounty Page 58