The imPERFECT Guy
Page 2
“That’s because I’m not entirely sure. Gia’s been the only one who’s ever helped me, and I don’t plan to replace her. She’ll continue doing what she does, which means I need someone to assist me with everything else. It’s just that I don’t really know what all I’ll need help with at this time.”
“So you’re hiring an assistant, but you don’t have an actual job description for them?”
While I didn’t necessarily feel judged by his question, there was definitely a level of opinion to his tone that left me slightly uncomfortable. So, I figured if he could talk to me that way, then I sure as hell could return the condescending question. “Do you even know what it is that I do?”
“I have an idea, yes. Based on the little bit you referenced in your ad, as well as what I found on a quick Google search, you’re a social media influencer—primarily, Instagram. You post a wide range of products with special codes for your one-point-three million followers to use when purchasing that specific item.”
There was a good chance I didn’t hide my surprise as well as I hoped. So I shook it off and continued with the conversation as if he hadn’t just blown my mind with his knowledge of my brand. After all, he was a guy—a real man’s man from what I could tell—and I doubted he found anything about my job impressive or exciting.
“That pretty much sums it up.”
“What I don’t know is…why are you suddenly needing more help now?”
“How much did you see while looking me up?”
He glanced down for a second, as if his answer made him shy, a reaction that didn’t seem to fit with my impression of him so far. “Enough.”
“Okay…” I had no idea how to explain this. Normally, I could talk about my job all day long; it was something I was really proud of. But for some reason, trying to discuss it with him felt a little silly. “Basically, a few months back, I was promoting a sunless tanning cream, and in some of the photos, I wore a few different bathing suits, all from the same designer. They were just ones I had in my drawer. Anyway, the designer took notice and has asked me to collaborate with her. This is a really big deal. It could potentially open the door for more opportunities like this.”
“That’s incredible.” He sounded impressed, though I doubted how authentic it was.
Guys didn’t care about this sort of thing, not even the ones I dated. If anything, they were impressed by the number of followers I had or the money I made. And even then, it was only because they couldn’t believe someone could get paid that much for posting pictures, nor could they believe that so many people would be captivated by my posts.
Needless to say, even though Finn seemed impressed by my success, I struggled with how much I could believe his sincerity. Trusting a woman was sometimes easier than a man. Especially one as rugged and good looking as the guy who currently sat in front of me.
“Yeah, well…that’s why I thought it was best to find someone now rather than wait until after things get too hectic. I don’t want to risk falling behind and miss opportunities because I wasn’t prepared.”
“That makes sense. So would you say this could potentially be short term?”
His comment rubbed me the wrong way. I wasn’t sure if he’d meant my success would be short term or his position. Not to mention, this was supposed to be my interview, yet it seemed he’d hijacked it by asking me all the questions. So far, I’d only made it through one of the bullet points on my list. At least things were being answered, so I couldn’t really complain about that. “I guess it’s possible, though I hope not.”
I glanced at my notebook again, desperately searching for something to ask before he got out his next question. I needed to change his perception of me from an incompetent Instagrammer to a smart and savvy businesswoman.
That was laughable.
Recalling something Nellie had added to my list, I asked, “Why should I hire you instead of someone else?” The questions had sounded good during the girls’ discussion last night, but now that I asked them aloud, they seemed infantile. I sunk a little bit in my chair as I waited for him to answer.
He rolled his shoulders back and straightened his spine, sitting up confidently. It was enough to call my attention to his chest, which was hidden behind a plaid button-up, the top two buttons undone. It was clear he wasn’t anything like the guys I was used to—the ones who spent hours every day at the gym. Although, that didn’t mean he was out of shape. He simply wasn’t ripped.
For the first time since he’d approached the table, I got a slight nerd-vibe from him. Not the pocket-protector or snorting-when-laughing type, but the kind who silently grazed crowds, never really fitting in while never not fitting in, either.
“For starters, you won’t have to worry that I’ll try to use your platform for my own personal gain. If you couldn’t tell, I’m not interested in fashion or the latest trends.” He held out his arms, using his nondescript appearance to prove his point. “And from the sounds of it, I don’t need to be interested in those things to do my job. In a short amount of time, I went from helping out a few people to running my own business. I know how to get things done. Which is exactly what you seem to need since you’re ready to expand into something substantial that will be hard for one person to manage.”
I took another sip of my wine to keep from sounding overly impressed when I moved on to the next question on the list. “How are you at dealing with other people? Like, if I needed you to set up meetings or respond to emails, is that something you could do without jeopardizing my name?”
“Absolutely. My mom always said that I never meet a stranger. I can talk to, and get along with, just about anyone, which I think is one of the reasons my business has done so well. People are more inclined to help someone they like, and without sounding full of myself…people love me.”
I glanced at the rest of the questions on the list, and while I knew that there were quite a few good ones left, I didn’t feel the need to ask them. Which worked out, because just then, the waiter arrived with our meals. I hoped having something to eat would lighten the conversation without ending it. There was nothing worse than sitting in stony silence, even if I had food in my mouth.
“If you don’t mind me asking…” He finished swallowing and then set his fork down to look at me. “When you first started out, was your goal to become an influencer?”
“Not at all. It started when I was in high school—more so my senior year. I was really big into cosmetics and fashion, so I’d post pictures of my outfits and makeup. For some reason, people I didn’t even know started to follow me and ask where I got my clothes or what eyeshadow I was wearing. Getting paid for it didn’t start until much later, and even then, it took me by surprise. I never intended to gain anything from my posts.”
His eyes did that squinty thing again as he regarded me. I couldn’t tell if he wore a smile while he chewed, but based on his expression, I didn’t doubt it. Which only made me wonder if it was innocent humor or teasing.
“When you got your wife’s friend that job, did you expect it to turn into a real business?”
He shook his head and took a sip of his soda, likely to clear his mouth of food, which I was grateful for. “Not at all. In fact, in the beginning, I didn’t even know I could make money from doing that sort of thing.”
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, yet none pertained to this interview. For some reason, I wanted to know more about him. I didn’t understand this man; he was like a puzzle. One I so badly wanted to figure it out. Except I couldn’t, because this wasn’t a date. It was a job interview, and my decision to hire him didn’t depend on the full disclosure of his personal life.
“Yeah…that’s like me, too,” was all I could say.
The corners of his lips curled again, but this time, even more than before. It was somewhere between a smirk and a grin, and it caused creases to form next to his eyes—which had turned a soft minty color. However, he didn’t say anything. He simply went back to his meal.r />
We shared a bit of light conversation while we ate. I found it easy to talk to him, albeit, that might’ve been because it was nothing more than mindless chatter. Nothing specific or in-depth, and I certainly stayed away from anything personal. At least we were able to get through lunch without awkward silence. It was enough to keep him as a contender while I continued my search for an assistant. I figured it would be best to keep looking until I either found a competent woman or gave up. My sister already had a job she loved, so adding more to her plate wasn’t an option.
“Well, is there anything else you want to ask me?” Finn set his napkin on the table where his plate used to be.
Apparently, the interview was over, so I grabbed my purse and pulled the strap over my shoulder. “I think you’ve answered all my questions. If I come up with anything else, I’ll call you.” I felt bad as the lie left my lips, but I doubted his wife would be okay with him being on the phone with me for hours while I asked a thousand personal questions so I could understand him better. This potential situation had conflict written all over it. I’d already rationalized that it would be better to search for another candidate.
“I look forward to hearing from you, then. And thanks for lunch; I really enjoyed it. I’ve never eaten here before, but I definitely have to come back.”
“No problem. It was nice to meet you.”
It was evident in the way he regarded me just before standing from the table that he didn’t expect to get the job. And for whatever reason, that made me sad. He seemed quite capable of filling the position. Still, I couldn’t seem to get over the fact that he was a guy who had zero interest in social media.
He walked me to the exit and stood for a moment on the sidewalk. “Have a good day, Mady. Take care.”
I smiled past the ball of fire in my throat—a ball of fire I couldn’t explain. “You too, Finn.”
As soon as I walked away, I pulled my phone from my purse and sent a voice-to-text message to Julie while heading to my car. The other two would just make fun of me, so I figured I’d wait to confess my mix-up until the next time we all got together.
Me: She’s a HE. Kelly is his last name. Guess I need to keep looking for an assistant.
2
Finn
Sometimes I loved the solitude and quietness of being at home. But after spending hours accomplishing nothing, I decided to take my laptop to Starbucks, hoping the background noise would help me focus better.
Unfortunately, it didn’t, because it seemed that no matter where I was, I couldn’t stop thinking about the interview I’d gone on yesterday. Visualizing Mady’s face when she realized I was a man left me smiling. And when I thought about her explanation for why she’d thought I was a woman named Kelly, I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. However, my mood plummeted anytime I contemplated the very real possibility that I hadn’t gotten the position, which was why I couldn’t focus for shit no matter where I was.
I hadn’t applied for the job because I needed it. In fact, I only came across the posting while trying to find work for a few of my clients. After submitting their résumés, I’d decided to throw my own into the ring. I figured this could be a fun opportunity to do something new, which was why the possibility of it being short term didn’t faze me.
At first, it’d been for shits and giggles, more or less to see if I even stood a chance. But the more I thought about it, the more I looked forward to the prospect of being able to do something different. The truth was…I didn’t get out much. Aside from my best friend—whom I’d known since kindergarten—I had a handful of “buddies” that I saw from time to time. So the prospect of getting to do something else while running my own business but would give me the opportunity to be around other people, which made me excited.
Even though my business had expanded, I found myself with a lot more time on my hands. Over the years, I’d come up with strategic ways to run things efficiently, so it didn’t take as long to accomplish tasks. That was why this job with Mady had initially caught my eye.
More than anything, the idea of not getting the job was a blow to my ego, which was only intensified by the fact that Mady was a very attractive woman. Rejection was something I was familiar with, yet no matter how many times in my life I’d dealt with it—and no matter how many different ways I’d come across it—it never got easier.
I closed my laptop, deciding to call it a day. I’d managed to submit several applications for clients and responded to a few emails regarding the status of others, so at least I could say I’d achieved something. There was a good chance my business would go under if I didn’t figure out a way to snap out of this funk and find my motivation again. Being unfocused and unenthusiastic could be what eventually led me to needing a paying job. Not to mention, I found my mood incredibly irritating.
Just as I slipped my computer back into the leather bag that was housed in the seat next to me, a hot brunette caught the corner of my eye. I don’t know why I bothered to look, considering a quick glance was all I needed to identify she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d ever give a guy like me the time of day. Then again, I wasn’t the kind of guy who’d let that stop me, so I looked anyway.
She stood at the counter waiting for her drink, her attention glued to the phone in her hand. At first, I didn’t recognize her, but as soon as she tucked her long, silky dark hair behind her ear, I knew exactly who she was.
Mady Russo.
What are the chances?
Taking this as the opportunity I needed to talk to her, I grabbed my bag and made my way to the counter. It took her a moment to notice someone was next to her—or maybe she hadn’t thought anything of it until she realized I hadn’t moved away—but she finally pulled her attention away from her phone and glanced up.
Yesterday, she’d had on a pair of heels, so she appeared taller when we stood in front of one another. But today, she wore sandals, and I found something sexy about the drastic height difference. Either that, or it was the way she looked up at me, her honey-colored eyes wide with recognition, her lips parted ever so slightly as if she were in awe of finding me next to her.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I said and leaned against the counter to appear casual. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her off or make her think I was a stalker.
I was familiar with women like Mady—the ones who knew they captured every man’s interest when they walked into a room. I’d spent the majority of my life dealing with those kind of immediate assumptions. The girls who thought I was into them just because they were good looking, and then politely biting my tongue when they’d act like they were better than me. Their entire mindset was based solely on appearances: they were attractive, so that meant I wanted them, and I didn’t look like Tom Hardy, which meant I wasn’t good enough for them.
Yes, I was a big guy, always had been. Granted, I was no longer the “fat” kid I’d been in school, the chubby guy no one made fun of for fear of getting punched in the face. But that didn’t mean I now possessed six-pack abs or pecs that danced behind a tight muscle shirt, nor was my closet filled with metro-sexual shit. I cut my own hair with an electric trimmer, wore the same pair of DCs I’d had since high school, and had a drawerful of graphic tees. But after spending most of my life trying to fit in, trying to please others, I could honestly say I was happy with who I was.
“Hey.” Surprise filled her soft voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Too quiet at home, so I thought I’d bring my computer”—I patted the leather bag that hung at my side—“and get some work done while enjoying a cup of coffee. Are you staying or just stopping in for a drink?”
“Oh, I just came for my daily macchiato.”
“While you wait, would you like to have a seat and chat for a minute?” I extended my arm to gesture toward an empty table along the wall.
I’d kind of expected her to make up some excuse about being in a hurry, but to my surprise, she offered a one-shoulder shrug and stepped away from the counter.
The fact that she didn’t decline the offer had me reconsidering my initial opinion of her. Maybe I’d misjudged her; just as I’d been my entire life. Maybe she wasn’t at all like every other selfie-obsessed woman I’d ever met. Then again, it was hard to tell without spending more time with her. But as I took in her petite frame, the pair of tight ripped jeans that hugged her hips, and her flawless complexation that she hid behind needless makeup, I couldn’t help but assume she knew just how gorgeous she was.
As soon as she took the seat opposite mine, she asked, “What did you want to talk about?”
“Nothing much. Just wondered if you’ve thought about the assistant position since interviewing me yesterday. Usually, I’d wait a few days before following up, but since I saw you here, I figured, why not ask before you find someone else.”
Her eyes danced around the room while she sucked her teeth, the subtle whistling sound doing its best to hypnotize me. Finally, when she returned her attention to me, she raised her brows—like a facial shrug—and offered a tight-lipped smile. “Honestly? No, I haven’t.”
“No, as in you haven’t thought about it at all? Or no, I didn’t get the job?”
“Why are you even interested in becoming my assistant, Finn?” Utter confusion lined her forehead. “You made it very clear yesterday that you’re not into social media or what I do, so I guess I don’t understand why you’d want to work for me.”
It was apparent by her clipped tone that I was not on the list of contenders, so I tried to think on my feet and say something to convince her to hire me. “First of all, I never said I wasn’t interested in social media, just not the latest fashion trends. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what they are or how they work. And I believe I used that point to explain why you should hire me, that you wouldn’t have to worry I’ll use you for any personal gain.”
“Yes, you did, but I’m having a hard time understanding why you’d want this job. You already have one, which seems very lucrative by the sounds of it. How on earth will you juggle that on top of everything I’ll need you to do for me?” Worry crossed her brow as she ran her fingers through her hair.