It has to be the same Mr. Stone. How can I be so ridiculously obtuse?
I cursed quietly under my breath, knowing that the smart thing to do would be to leave immediately.
If I can’t figure out what one plus one is, I’m obviously unfit for the job.
“Forgive me, Ms. Kaufman, but I assumed that I would be interviewing with you,” I said with a wobbly smile, scrambling to think of a way out of the situation.
“I’m sorry?” She looked confused by my statement.
“I, um…” I stuttered as I tried to think of something – anything that might prevent me from coming face to face with Alexander Stone again. “I didn’t realize that I’d be interviewing with Mr. Stone. I assumed that since you were a large company, you would have an HR department handle your hiring,” I explained, not able to come up with anything better. I could only hope that this actually was a large company.
Realization dawned on Laura’s face.
“Mr. Stone must be considering you for an important position, or else that would normally be the case. Our human resources department usually handles the initial applicant screening. However, Mr. Stone personally conducts all of the interviews for high potential candidates,” she clarified with a smile.
High potential?
My palms began to sweat as I silently followed the strawberry blond Laura to the conference room. Her subtle red hair was a reminder of all the articles that I had read online about Alexander Stone’s preference for redheads.
But surely that can’t be a prerequisite for working for him? Or can it?
My stomach constricted into a nervous knot. Everything about the situation was terribly wrong. Not only was I a fool for not connecting the dots, but I also had the wrong hair color for the job.
Someone like Alexander Stone would want to hire someone smart and witty – not someone who’s tongue got stuck to the roof of her mouth every time he was near. This was a disaster in the making. He was too distracting, nothing but sex and sin and every girls spiciest fantasy. I couldn’t imagine the thought of going through an entire job interview with him.
I felt like I was walking through a tunnel, my nerves gradually taking over every rational part of me. Apprehension caused my steps to lag slowly behind Laura as she made towards the door at the end of the corridor.
I toyed with the idea of bolting right then and there, but my window of time for a quick exit had ended. We had reached the conference room. I took a deep breath and made a conscious effort to still my fidgeting hands.
Keep it together – it’s a job interview. I’m overreacting.
Feeling only slightly more composed, I stepped through the door that Laura held open for me.
Maybe it’s not even the same Mr. Stone.
But it was.
CHAPTER 6
Alexander Stone stood facing away from me at the far end of the room. Even though I couldn’t see his face, there was no mistaking his powerfully built physique. He was on the phone, with one hand in his pocket, looking out through floor to ceiling windows at the Manhattan Skyline.
He turned to see Laura and me standing there and motioned to me to sit down. I looked at Laura for direction. She smiled and pointed to a chair near the end of a large etched glass conference table. I sat down and took a minute to further calm my nerves and take stock of my surroundings.
The furniture was sleek and modern. The table at which I sat was large enough to seat at least thirty people. The center of the table displayed a long, boat-shaped glass bowl, filled with blue, white, and black stones. There were several high-tech looking videoconference phones on the table as well.
The walls were all painted the same bright white as the waiting area. Two enormous flat screen television panels adorned the wall to my right, one of them tuned in to Bloomberg TV with the volume muted. On my left, recessed shelves held a collection of blue vases, all varying in shade, size, and shape. The far wall was nothing but glass, revealing and impressive view of New York. The room surely exhibited power and wealth, but it was nothing compared to the man who stood in it.
I studied Alexander Stone as he paced the back of the conference room. He wore black suit pants and a white shirt. He wore no jacket again today, but I saw that he had one draped over the back of one of the conference room chairs. His silver tie was loosened at the neck and his top button was undone. He looked comfortable and self-assured, and carried himself with an air of sophistication and poise. He appeared larger than life, as if he were holding the world in the palm of his hand.
“Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea, water? Mr. Stone is just finishing up his call,” Laura offered, her voice low so as not to disrupt her boss. I looked up at her mannerly smile. I had almost forgotten that she was there.
“Yes, please. Water would be great,” I accepted, mirroring her hushed tone. Holding a glass of water would give me something to do with my hands, which fidgeted once again in my lap. Any sort of caffeine would just wreak havoc on my already tremulous nerves.
Just as Laura placed the glass of water on a coaster in front of me, Alexander ended his call and turned around to face us.
“Thank you, Laura. That will be all for now.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone.”
With a small nod, Laura quietly exited the room, leaving me alone with the formidable Alexander Stone.
He turned his attention to me and flashed a dazzling smile, revealing perfect white teeth.
God, this man is undeniably gorgeous.
“Good morning, Miss Cole. I apologize for the wait. I hadn’t anticipated my call to run so long.”
That’s okay – I was enjoying the view of your scrumptious behind.
“It was no trouble at all,” I murmured, rather than voice my real thoughts.
He made his way towards me, his swagger ever so prominent, and sat in a chair next to mine. He leaned back, crossed an ankle over one knee, and casually folded his hands together. For some insane reason, I felt myself blushing. I had to remind myself to breath.
“Miss Cole, are you okay? You look flushed.”
My hands immediately went to my face as I scrambled to find my voice.
“I’m fine. It’s the high elevation. Sometimes it makes me light headed,” I lied as I reached for my glass of water. I swallowed a huge gulp.
“High elevation?” he questioned skeptically.
I took another drink of water.
“Yes, this happens to me whenever I’m in tall buildings,” I said, continuing the fib in a rush.
Tall building is an understatement. Stone owns a skyscraper.
“I see,” was his only response.
If I wasn’t mistaken, I thought he looked amused.
He probably is. Women must fall all over him every day.
However, I didn’t have the luxury to be amongst those women. I had to put the breaks on and get my wits about me. This was a professional interview for a real job. I could not allow myself to blow this because my stalled out libido decided to suddenly kick into overdrive.
“Did you know that I was the one you were interviewing? Because I don’t believe in coincidences,” I blurted out.
Smooth, real smooth.
“Of course,” he answered without prevarication.
“I figured as much. But I have to ask, how did you get my résumé?” I asked with honest curiosity, finding myself relaxing a bit.
I can do this.
“It was only a matter of making the correct inquiries, Miss Cole. I was intrigued after our meeting at Wally’s and wanted to find out more about you. I asked a few simple questions, and I learned that you were a marketing major. An informal background inquiry filled in the blanks. Since I happen to have a position available in marketing, I arranged an interview with you.”
“You ordered a background check on me?” I asked, instinctively feeling violated.
Didn’t he need to obtain my consent for that?
I wasn’t sure what to think about the infringement of priv
acy.
“It was nothing that technical, I assure you. Everyone I consider for employment receives a basic check before an interview is even scheduled. It makes things easier.”
“Easier in what way?” I asked.
“Easier for all parties involved. You’d be amazed at what social media can reveal about a person,” he replied nonchalantly, a smile forming ever so subtly on his lips. We sat there in a silence that seemed to stretch on for hours, yet I knew it was only a few seconds, a minute at most. I’m sure he sensed my unease, but he continued to watch me with one eyebrow tilted up, his eyes alight with humor, before finally speaking again. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“That I’m amusing you somehow,” I admitted frankly.
“There’s nothing amusing at all, Miss Cole,” he said, the corners of his mouth switching. I knew he was fighting a smile and it was irritating.
What the hell was so damn comical?
“Really? Then why does it seem like you’re trying not to laugh?” I retorted, a little bit too harshly.
“Your behavior tells me that you didn’t know I would be conducting your interview today. Is my assumption correct?” he asked, humor still evident in his features.
I’m such an idiot! I should have prepared for this!
“Um…sort of. Yes.”
My statement earned a small chuckle from him and it was maddening. I couldn’t help but jump on the defense.
“Do you always laugh at your prospective employees?” I challenged.
“I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing more at the quandary that I find myself in. I’ve never met a woman quite like you. I find your innocence refreshing. Most women I meet are very calculating and extremely predictable. You’re different somehow.” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing. “It’s a nuisance, actually.”
His arrogance astounded me and I found his generalization of women insulting.
“I’m sorry that I don’t fit into a preselected mold, Mr. Stone. Would you rather I played into your defined notion that all women are the same?” I asked him, my voice loaded with contempt.
“You’re asking an awful lot of questions, Miss Cole.”
He had stopped smiling now and his eyes turned icy.
Oh, shit. He’s right.
The entire situation was beginning to spiral out of control. I was asking too many questions that I had no right to ask. I was probably fired before I was even offered a position, and it was one that I gravely needed.
My kneejerk reaction was to lash out. But I was too outspoken for my own good and it could cost me this job. Temper aside, I knew that I was being a hypocrite. After all, I was the one who thought that all men were the same. So I silenced my tongue, feeling ashamed at my boldness, and looked down at my hands.
He is Alexander Stone, mega-rich millionaire, and I’m being rude.
“Can we proceed with your interview now?”
“Yes,” I answered meekly.
“Yes, Mr. Stone,” he added with an air of quiet authority.
My head snapped up.
Yes, Mr. Stone?
He hadn’t yelled. Yet, there was no need to. His subtle command was enough to detonate through my system, causing a knot to form in my gut. He was a man well accustomed to getting what he wanted.
Warning bells went off as I recalled my conversation with Alexander from the day prior. My initial impression of him was correct – he really was a control freak. Every instinct that I possessed was telling me to leave the room immediately and that this was bad. Really bad. Yet, for some totally insane reason, I found myself mildly aroused by his assumed authority and the power that emanated from him. It compelled me to stay rooted to the chair.
“Yes, Mr. Stone,” I repeated like a parrot.
I was like an errant child who had just been scolded, my voice small and pathetic to my ears. I couldn’t believe that I was actually listening to him.
The mood swings that I had experienced since entering this room were making my head spin. Anxiety, anger, embarrassment, and lust – I had felt them all and I struggled to find stability within the hurricane.
I saw him looking down at my fidgeting hands. I stilled them immediately and took hold of my glass of water.
I need to remember why I’m here – I need this job.
“That’s better,” he murmured. He sounded satisfied, his face revealing a tiny smile. Whether it was because I stopped fidgeting or because I followed his order, I couldn’t be sure. The one thing I did know was that the balance in the room had rapidly shifted. I remained quiet and waited for his lead.
“There is a position at Turning Stone Advertising that needs to be filled. While the company is merely a subsidiary of Stone Enterprise, I occasionally get involved in their day to day business requirements.” He got up from his chair and walked to the window. With confident grace, he clasped his hands behind his back and continued, “I am always on the lookout for qualified and experienced applicants. In my world, incompetence is not something that is tolerated. I like my people to be driven, reliable, and efficient. When I give a direction, I expect it to be followed to the letter, without question. When I find an individual that fit this persona, I hire them, and pay them well so that they continue their employment with me. You, Miss Cole, have displayed that potential.”
“I appreciate you seeing the potential in me, Mr. Stone,” I responded respectfully, making sure to say his name properly.
“Exactly how much still remains to be seen,” he said thoughtfully, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
He turned to study me for a moment. His careful scrutiny was intimidating. He reminded me of a lion stalking his prey. If I gave him the opportunity, I knew this man was capable of stripping my soul bare. No man has ever affected me in this way. He was irritating, arrogant, and alluring all at once. My stomach began doing that annoying flippy thing and I shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze.
“Tell me about your job duties at Wally’s.”
“Well, um, sir – Mr. Stone,” I stumbled over my words, trying to remember whatever the hell it was I did at my current job. “I mainly stock shelves and build displays. Occasionally, Mr. Roberts will have me bring groceries as a courtesy to the homes of our elderly clientele.”
“That’s a very noble thing to do. It makes me feel good about my investment decision.”
“So you’ve decided to invest in Wally’s?” I excitedly asked, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to maintain a professional demeanor. As much as I wanted out of my current place of employment, I enjoyed my time there. I didn’t want to see Wally’s close and was happy to learn that the grocer might be saved.
“I am not going to invest in them per say. My business is in real estate, not retail food chains. I’m just going to buy their buildings, which will help relieve some of their overhead expenses. There are a few wrinkles that still need to be ironed out, but I’m confident that an agreement will be reached sometime within the next month.” He seemed annoyed at my interruption and didn’t elaborate any further about the deal. Instead, he continued on with his interview questioning. “You have a bachelor’s degree from NYU in marketing. What made you choose that as your major?”
That question had me stumped. Nobody had ever asked me that and I never seriously considered the reason why I had chosen marketing. I just liked it.
I mused over his question for a moment before coming to the conclusion that my fascination was in sales. I thought that answer might sound lame, but I had nothing better so I went with it.
“I understand and appreciate the power of persuasion. Marketing, in a sense, is sales. If marketed correctly, you can sell anything. You just need to accurately target the buyer.”
“The power of persuasion?” he seemed surprised at my answer and tapped his finger thoughtfully on his chin.
“Yes. I believe that persuasion through advertising can be viewed of as a form of art. For example, a television commercial may convince
an individual to buy a product that they don’t really need if it’s marketed correctly. Images, music, presentation – it is all one big package, crafted and bundled up to influence the consumer.”
“Very true,” he said with an appreciative nod. “Now tell me, what persuades you, Miss Cole?”
He cast me an unsettling look, one that made me feel another little twist in my belly.
“Persuades me? I’m not sure that I follow you.”
“What influences you, or sways you, to do something you normally wouldn’t?”
“Music,” I stated simply, fighting to keep my faculties together. He cocked one sexy eyebrow at me, waiting for me to say more.
Focus on the question – not his eyebrow!
“Care to explain?” he pushed.
“Music can be a powerful source in marketing. For me, the right tune has the power to influence me one way or another in just about anything.”
“That’s very interesting insight,” he said with a catlike smile, making me think that he had a secret that only he was privy to. He leisurely walked back to the table to reclaim his seat next to me. “I’m curious. What sort of music would influence you?”
“Um…” I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair. “Well, I guess it would depend on what you were trying to sell me.”
“Ah, but maybe the bigger question would be – are you looking to buy?” he asked suggestively.
Heat flooded my face for what seemed like the five hundredth time in the past three days. I hated that I blushed so easily and I automatically brought my hands to my face to hide my cheeks. A strange and unfamiliar ache began between my legs, only adding to my mortification.
“High elevation getting to you again?”
“Something like that,” I mumbled, and I would swear that my face turned ten shades redder.
Turned on by interview questions. Great. I’m out of my tree.
“Tell me about your experience,” he said suddenly, changing directions.
“My experience with what exactly, Mr. Stone?”
His cryptic line of questioning was confusing. I couldn’t keep up. Perhaps I really was going crazy. It was either that, or his mere presence was turning my brain to marshmallow. I couldn’t be sure.
Heart of Stone Page 6