by M. S. Parker
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 heavy 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 9
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.
I looked at the concierge. “Is the car available?”
He nodded. “Any specific destination in mind, Miss Jensen?”
I smiled again. I was going to fulfill another of my fantasies. A Beverly Hills shopping trip.
When I told the driver where I wanted to go, my day got even better. His sister worked at Barneys. That was exactly what I needed. Someone in the know of what was hot in Hollywood right now. On the ride over, the driver told me all about Jamie and how she was working towards becoming a fashion designer. Like I'd said before. Hollywood was where everyone wanted to be something else.
The moment I stepped into the store, I felt like I was in heaven. I'd gone to one of the most elite boutiques in New York with Carrie, but that had been different. Even though Gavin had bought me something, we'd been shopping for her. Today was all about me.
“Miss Jensen?” A cute little thing with strawberry blond curls came bounding up to me. I could tell she was one of those people who always had too much energy and never walked anywhere. She also looked like she was twelve, even though I'd been told she was nineteen.
“Jamie.” I smiled at her.
“My brother said you were going to a party in the Hills?”
I nodded.
“I have just the thing.” She motioned for me to follow her. “We just got this in today. In fact, we're not even technically done putting them on the floor yet.”
I was starting to have my doubts about the young woman's ability to pick a dress as we passed gorgeous dress after gorgeous dress. Then she stopped in front of the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen.
“I had a couple in mind since I didn't know what your coloring was, but as soon as I saw you, I knew this would be perfect.”
I had to agree. If it looked as good on me as I thought it was going to, Jamie had just outdone herself. She handed it to me and pointed me to the dressing rooms. I maneuvered into the slinky garment and zipped up the side. It fit like a glove.
I turned so I could see my reflection. The hem hit me at a little above mid-thigh, high enough that I knew I was going to have to be careful how I moved or I'd flash someone. The neckline plunged down between my breasts, revealing quite a bit of flesh without being tacky. The color was a rich purple that brought out the blue-black highlights in my hair. I'd never been so in love with a dress in my life.
I stepped out and Jamie voiced her approval. Then I saw the price tag and my stomach sank. Four hundred dollars. I couldn't afford that.
“I'll give you my discount,” Jamie said, correctly interpreting my expression. “It's thirty percent off.”
I made a face. That was still a lot of money.
“You look amazing in that dress,” Jamie said. “I can show you other ones that will look good on you, but nothing like that one.”
She was right. I looked at the number again. I had spent more than that on shoes before. I made up my mind. “I'll take it.”
Jamie let out a squeal of delight and I couldn't help but laugh. She was adorable.
We chatted as she rang me up and continued to talk on my way out to the car. She talked to him then for several minutes before he was able to remind her that they were both still working. She took his gentle reminder in good stride and waved at us as we drove away.
“Back to the hotel,” I said. I would order room service so I could take my time getting ready. I was going to make sure that I was nothing short of breath-taking tonight. It would be my first impression
on some of Hollywood and I wanted it to be a good one.
Chapter 10
I had to admit that I was a little nervous. New York was big and busy, full of interesting and exciting people, but LA was different. I knew I was hot. I'd had men and women telling me that since I hit puberty, but this was the place where all of the beautiful people gathered. But, when I saw the expression on Taylor's face when I met him outside the hotel, my confidence was bolstered. Jamie had definitely picked the right dress.