Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Ew, no. Why are you in pantyhose? What are you, a grandma?”
“My mom told me I had to wear them. Great. Maybe I should stop at the restroom and take ’em off. They’re really uncomfortable.”
“And stupid. Besides that, are you prepared?”
“By prepared, you mean. . .?”
“Did you Google who you’re going to work for? Study the company? I’m no corporate guru, but I would at least do that.”
“The only thing I Googled was the address.”
“Fay! They’ll probably ask what you know about the company. What’s the name?” I spit off the name. “Damn. . . okay. Investment corporation, Fortune 500—blah, blah, blah. Buys and sells land.”
I slap myself to wake up. “God, this all sounds so boring. I don’t give a hoot about investing or land development. And when I bomb this interview, I’m going to the bakery I spotted coming in and ask if they need anyone to sweep their floors. I’ll even clean toilets to get in a kitchen again.”
“Toilets? Gross. For real, though, this does sound like a total snoozefest—wait, here we go. Theo Monroe, CEO of Monroe Investment Corp, Forbes’ youngest CEO on the Upper East Coast. His father, Alfred Monroe, stepped down last year and handed his prodigy son the title. Ever since, he’s taken the investment sector by storm. Let me Google him. . . holy shit. Your boss is hot.”
I tug at my blouse, adjusting my new pencil skirt. How the hell do people wear these clothes all day long? The elevator dings, opening on the thirty-fifth floor, and I enter the lavish office. While I’m shifting my strapless bra, my resume drops. I bend over to pick it up and feel the pantyhose tear. “Goddammit,” I hiss, lifting my eyes to a woman standing in front of me.
“Miss Evans?”
“Gotta go.” I slide my phone into my purse. “Yep, that’s me.” Ripped pantyhose and all.
“Theresa with Human Resources. Follow me.” The woman doesn’t wait for me to gather myself before walking off. Clutching my resume to my chest, I chase after her and trip over my feet, falling forward. Two hands extend in front of me, snagging me upright.
“Holy almost-cleanup-on-aisle-five,” I say, trying to straighten myself when my eyes land on the most glorious human I’ve ever seen. “Wow, yeah. Good thing one of us knows how to walk. I’m about to go into an interview. Can you imagine. . . carpet burns on my face?” I chuckle awkwardly, my gaze shifting to the woman, who looks appalled. I turn back to the man. “Hey, if I get the job,” I lean in, “which is unlikely, I owe you a coffee.” I wink at him and give the angry woman my attention. “I’m sorry, where were we?”
She opens her mouth, but the gentleman interrupts. “You were about to have an interview with me.”
It takes a second for my brain to catch up. I turn to him, my smile dropping. “You’re. . . you—oh! Yes. Hello, hi.” I shoot my hand out, almost smacking him in the chest, and wince, pulling back. “Sorry. Hi, my name is—”
“Mr. Monroe, my apologies. I’m not sure how this one got through the screening—”
“That will be all, Theresa.”
The woman nods. “Yes, of course. Miss Evans, please follow me to the exit—”
“I said she’s fine.” The woman’s eyes widen, and I look to see what has her in shock. “If you’ll excuse us.” She looks between us, then slowly nods and walks off.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
“How would you? Shall we?” He motions me into his office, and I follow, trying not to get distracted by his cologne. He sits behind his gigantic desk, and I take the chair across from him. He stares at me but doesn’t say anything. There’s interest in his gaze, and I wait for him to speak first. I’m not used to corporate interview etiquette, but I feel like I’m wasting his time without even opening my mouth.
Finally, I exhale and say, “I’m not sure I’m the best fit for this job. See, my mom—”
“I expect you to be in early and stay late. Attention to detail is a must. And I'm always your first priority.”
Okay, wait. Did he offer me the job? Or tell me I got the job? And why did that come out super-hot? Someone pinch me and remind me I’m not in one of Mindy’s fantasy pornos.
“Do I have your commitment?”
My ears perk at his deep voice. “Yes, of course. All yours.” Oh my God, shut up. I clear my throat. “I am very professional, with tons of experience working for upper management. I know what it takes to please.” Did that come out right? “To comply.” Ugh, that didn’t either. “I’m a hard worker.” I’m sure I’ll have better luck at that bakery.
He’s stiff in his chair. His smile is nonexistent. I sit up straighter, waiting for him to retract his offer. Not that I thought I would get the job or even wanted it.