by London Casey
“It’s a half-hour drive,” Taylor said, as if he could read my mind. “We’d have some time to enjoy the view, then I could get you back to the hotel before it was even really dark. Plenty of time to rest for your second interview.”
After another moment, I nodded. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Seven
The Santa Monica Pier. I’d seen it in movies, but it was even more beautiful in real life. The ferris wheel against the backdrop of blue sky. The sounds and smells that could only be found in a place like this. All of it was everything I’d ever dreamed.
We walked slowly, sometimes talking, sometimes just enjoying the setting sun. Just before the sun reached the horizon, the lights came on, turning the pier into something almost magical. We stopped at a distance so that I could get the entire panoramic view.
I sighed as I leaned against the railing. The smell of salt water mingled with the other scents and I could hear the gentle lapping of water beneath my feet. It was the week after Labor Day, so most of the vacationers had gone home, leaving the pier virtually empty, at least by New York standards. If you weren’t pressed shoulder to shoulder with complete strangers, it was almost empty.
I was watching the sun slowly starting to disappear when it happened. Taylor put his hand over mine. I jerked back automatically, turning towards him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He shrugged, giving me a grin that I was fairly certain he was used to charming the pants off of women. If I hadn’t wanted this job so badly, it might’ve worked for me, too.
“Maybe I’m off here, but I could’ve sworn I was sensing some attraction.”
Dammit. I hadn’t been as careful as I’d thought.
“I was under the impression that you liked me.”
I sighed again, this time not out of contentment. “I do like you,” I confessed. “But you’re a client of Mirage. I can’t date a potential client.” I laughed. “Look, if this was New York and I’d met you there with no strings attached, or even here under different circumstances, I totally would’ve jumped your bones. But I’m trying to make something of this opportunity, not just continue on as if I was back home.” I gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
He took a step towards me, closing the distance down to just a foot between us. “Come on, Krissy.” His gaze was heated as it ran down my body and back up again. “I’m just one small client with Mirage, not even close to their top one hundred. They don’t give a shit about whether or not we hook up.” He reached out and ran the tip of his finger down my arm. “I swear, I won’t say a word. No one will ever know.”
“I’m sorry, Taylor.” I kept my voice cool and firm. “It’s not going to happen.” I turned my back on him to watch the rest of the sunset. I really hoped he’d take the hint because I wanted to enjoy my view for a bit longer.
He was silent as he moved to stand next to me, but I didn’t sense any animosity, which was good. He kept a respectful distance as we finished watching the sunset and I was able to relax and let myself absorb the beauty of what I was seeing. We stayed standing there for several minutes after the last sliver of sun had disappeared, waiting for the first of the stars to begin to come out. The lights from the Pier kept them from being as bright as I knew they’d be out in the country, but it was still far more than I’d ever seen in New York or Chicago.
Finally, I pushed back from the rail and broke the silence. “I should be getting back.”
He nodded and flashed me a polite smile that made me feel like perhaps things would be okay between us. That was good. As bad as it would be to date a client, I had a feeling Mirage wouldn’t look too fondly on a client being pissed at me either.
We made small talk on the ride back to my hotel, keeping it light and nothing personal. By the time he pulled up in front of the hotel, I had regained the sense of wonder I’d had when I’d first stepped off the plane.
“So,” he said as he flashed that beautiful white smile again, “What do you say to a night-cap in the bar?” He winked at me. “Or in your suite?”
He was like a dog with a bone.
“You’re super cute and very persistent.” I kept my voice polite. “But I can’t do this. You’re a client and I’m taking this job opportunity very seriously.”
If anything, his grin widened. “But what if you don’t get the job?”
Now I was annoyed. Persistence was one thing, but if he kept pushing it, even his pretty face and rock-hard body weren’t going to be enough to keep me from saying something I’d regret. “If I don’t get the job and you’re ever in New York, look me up.” I opened the door. “I’m sure you’d be fun for a couple days.” I didn’t wait to hear a response, but rather climbed out of the car and headed for the front doors.
I really hoped that put an end to it. I so didn’t need a client stalker.
Chapter Eight
This time when I was called out of the reception area, I was taken to the elevator I’d seen yesterday. The receptionist didn’t say a word as we reached the second floor and the doors opened. She just gestured for me to go ahead without her. Based on what I’d seen yesterday with Mr. Ricci, I had a feeling he was the type of man who appreciated a strong woman. At least professionally. Something about him told me that in his personal life, it might be a bit different.
I stepped off the elevator and knocked on the heavy wooden door now directly in front of me.
“Come in.” An annoyingly familiar voice came from the other side of the door.
As I stepped inside, I saw that DeVon’s office didn’t look like the rest of the building. Instead of glass and metal, his office was dark with a heavy curtain covering what must have been a window at his back. He had heavy wooden furniture that matched the door I’d knocked on. The color scheme was dark brown and a deep red that almost looked like blood. It looked like something out of a Godfather movie. Or a vampire flick.
DeVon was sitting behind his desk and didn’t get up when I closed the door behind me. I really hoped that wasn’t his normal way of behaving and he wasn’t only being an ass to me because of yesterday. I walked towards him, waiting for him to look up from the paper he was reading and greet me. He didn’t. In fact, all he did was point to one of the chairs in front of the desk.
I was tempted to take the other one, just to see what he’d do, but I didn’t. As much as he annoyed me, being intentionally antagonistic wasn’t a good idea. No matter how much I wanted to.
I crossed one leg over the other, folded my hands in my lap and waited. I was normally impatient and impulsive, at least according to my friends, but when it came to a battle of the wills and sheer stubbornness, winning trumped everything else.
Finally, after what was probably a good ten minutes, he closed the paper and set it aside. His expression was unreadable as he looked at me. “Krissy Jensen, I liked how you handled the situation yesterday.”
Apparently, he didn’t believe in opening with small talk. That was fine with me. The less time I had to spend with him, the better. He might have been pretty to look at, but I wasn’t fond of the attitude.
“That was a test, you know.”
No shit. I didn’t say that, of course. “I figured that much. A little unusual, I must say.” Carrie would’ve been proud of my self-control.
“What can I say?” He shrugged. “I do things differently.” His eyes narrowed, studying me. “I don’t like fake people and this town has too many of them already. I want one hundred percent honesty and trust from all my employees. In return, I don’t bullshit them, either.” He rested his hands on his desk. “Do you think you can do that? Be honest no matter what?”
That was an easy one for me to answer. “Absolutely. And I couldn’t agree more. I hate liars.”
He was silent for several minutes and I could feel his eyes boring into me, like he was trying to read something deep inside and determine if I was telling the truth. I tried very hard not to fidget. I’d never been very good at sitting still and his he
avy gaze wasn’t making it any easier.
Finally, he spoke. “I’m not so sure you can be completely honest.” He leaned back in his chair and set his elbows on the armrests. He pressed his fingertips together and peered at me over them. “How do I know you’re not just saying that to get the job?”
I tried not to take offense at the question. He had a right to be suspicious. Some people would’ve had a problem promising honesty and actually delivering. For me, I actually liked that he required it. In fact, his statement about liars was probably the first thing I actually liked about him.
“I would say to trust me, but if you don’t believe I’m telling the truth, it doesn’t matter what I say.”
He inclined his head, leading me to believe he approved of my answer. “I could conduct the interview in an…unusual way to determine if you will provide me with answers you believe I will want to hear or if you will answer honestly, no matter what you think my opinion will be.”
That sounded like a very bad idea.
“I have found,” he continued, “that if I ask questions of a personal nature – a very personal nature – I can determine if they are lying or not.”
Yeah, agreeing to this ‘unusual’ interview was definitely not a good idea.
“A benefit of this will be that I will be able to provide you with a yes or no regarding the job once we are finished.”
He was tempting my impatience, but that wasn’t the main reason I wanted to agree. He’d caught me off guard yesterday, and while I’d managed to recover nicely, he’d still shocked me. I had a feeling whatever he was going to ask would be sexually loaded and he wanted to see if I’d crack. It wasn’t just about honesty. It was about seeing if I could handle the pressure of working in a place like this. Whether I got the job or not, I was determined to let him know that he couldn’t break me.
“All right,” I agreed.
I could see a pleased light in his eyes for a brief second before it was gone again.
“My questions will deal with things that you may not feel are appropriate for a work situation, and I will not take kindly should you decide to complain after having agreed to this interview.” His tone was sharp as he gave me the warning.
“I’m waiting for the first question,” I said mildly. No way was I backing down.
He chuckled. “Then we begin.” He crossed one long leg over the other. “Are you a virgin?”
I almost rolled my eyes, but remembered that I needed to keep it professional, no matter how unprofessional the questions were. “No.”
“What were the circumstances surrounding your first sexual encounter?”
One side of my mouth quirked up. “I was fifteen and my boyfriend and I did it in the back of his car.” I raised an eyebrow as if to ask him if that was all he had.
“And your most recent sexual encounter?” He didn’t react to either my answer or my change in facial expression.
“I hooked up with a guy at my friend’s burlesque club. I think his name was Frank.” If that didn’t tell him I had no problem being honest, I didn’t know what would.
“Do you make a habit of fucking strangers?”
Okay, so that’s how we were going to play it.
“I do it sometimes, but I wouldn’t consider it a habit,” I admitted. I’d never been ashamed of my sex life and I wasn’t about to begin now.
“But you refused to join me yesterday.”
“That’s not a question,” I retorted.
This time, his lips definitely twitched. “You’re right. My question then: what was the reason for declining my invitation?”
I almost cringed. He wanted me to be honest, but I knew he wasn’t going to like my answer. “Two reasons. One, I don’t fuck my boss, or potential boss. Two, you were being an asshole.”
He did smile this time and it was all I could do not to smile in response.
“Have you ever slept with someone you worked with?”
I nodded. “Co-workers, yes, but never someone in a position above or below me.” I bit back a laugh at the obvious joke there.
“Have you ever had sex with someone in exchange for a favor?”
I frowned. “Does sleeping with my college tutor count?” When DeVon didn’t answer, I clarified, “That wasn’t how I paid him. It was more like a bonus…for both of us. But, no, I don’t ask for things in return for sex.”
He nodded, but I couldn’t tell what he thought about my answer. “Have you ever dated a client?”
I noticed the change in verb but didn’t ask about it. “It depends on your definition of client.”
“Spoken like a true lawyer,” he said.
“I haven’t slept with or dated anyone who was my direct client,” I answered. “But I have had relationships with men who were clients of other lawyers in the firm where I worked.”
“You understand that this is not acceptable at Mirage,” he said, his tone almost scolding.
My temper flared. How dare he talk to me like he was on some high moral ground? I didn’t snap at him, though. Instead, I said, “Completely. I would never consider propositioning anyone involved with the company or accepting a proposition from someone Mirage represents.”
A flash of amusement crossed his features and I knew he’d understood my dig at his behavior yesterday. “Do you consider yourself sexually adventurous?”
I couldn’t quite stop myself from being a bit saucy in return. “I’m always open to new experiences.”
“Good to know.”
I shifted in my seat as I felt a sudden zing of arousal. Dammit. I didn’t care how sexy his voice sounded when he’d said that. He was going to be my boss. And he was an asshole. Both reasons why I hadn’t slept with him yesterday were still applicable today.
“Do you have any problems taking orders?”
That question made me blink because I wasn’t entirely sure if he was still asking sexual questions or if he’d switched to more job relevant inquiries since he was satisfied I was telling the truth. Something in his dark eyes told me that his question wasn’t entirely innocent.
Two could play at that game.
“It depends on who gives them,” I answered coolly. “I’m no pushover, but I also don’t have a problem obeying someone in charge. If he’s worthy.”
This time, DeVon was the one shifting in his chair. He made it look like he was just switching legs, but I had a feeling it was actually something else. The air had a thickness to it that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“Are you willing to accept…consequences for wrong behavior?”
“As long as the required behavior and all possible consequences are spelled out beforehand.” I was now very sure that he was lacing his questions with double meaning and I fed my answers out the same way. “I don’t think it’s right to expect behavior that isn’t explained.”
He nodded, and I could see that he agreed. He leaned forward and rested his hands on his desk again. “It seems to me that you were indeed telling the truth. I have to consult with Mr. Duncan, but we will have answer for you tomorrow before you fly home.”
Once again, my mouth decided to act before my brain could intervene. “Who’s being dishonest now? You told me if I went along with your interview, you’d tell me yes or no at the end of it.”
He smiled, and I wondered if that had been another test, one to see if I was willing to hold others to the same standard to which I was being held. “I did promise that,” he said. “Perhaps I was too hasty. What I can tell you is that your answers mean you’re still in the running. Had I not been pleased with what you said, I would’ve just told you no and sent you home.”
He picked up his paper again and I knew the interview was over. I stood. I would just have to be satisfied with what he gave me. My stomach gave a little twist as my brain automatically translated my innocent statement into an innuendo. Shit. His questioning had got me thinking that way and now it was going to take forever to stop.
I really disliked that man.
> Chapter Nine
I was considering heading back down to Sunset Plaza for lunch again but as soon as I stepped into the hotel lobby, I knew I was going to have to go somewhere else, just to avoid the awkward moment I was currently experiencing as Taylor beamed at me from where he was leaning against the front desk.
“Krissy.” He took a step forward. “I just got an invite to this fancy party in the Hills tonight and was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”
I was shaking my head before he’d even finished speaking. “No.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “It’s not a date. I was just thinking that you might want to come because there are going to be a lot of actors and potential clients. It’ll be a great chance to mingle.” He added, “Think of how good it’ll look when you get the job if you already know the names of clients as they come in.”
He had a point. I crossed my arms and gave him a stern look. “All right,” I said. “I’ll go.” He opened his mouth to speak and I held up a finger. “Only if you stop flirting.”
He grinned. “I can’t promise anything one hundred percent, especially if I get some alcohol in my system, but I’ll do my best.”
A try was probably the best I could hope for. I nodded. “Okay.”
“Great!” He turned and did that thing where he was walking backwards and talking to me at the same time. I’d seen it on movies but didn’t think anyone actually did it. “I’ll pick you up a little before eight. We want to make an entrance, after all.”
I couldn’t believe I was going to my first Hollywood party! I smiled so widely that it hurt my mouth. This was going to be amazing! I took two steps towards the elevator and realized that I didn’t have anything to wear. I’d brought a business outfit for a second interview, comfortable clothes for the flight home tomorrow and two cute dresses for sight-seeing. None of those were going to be right for a party in the Hills. I should’ve brought my green dress, the one Carrie referred to as Christmas ribbon.