Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“How were you able to work and get your MBA?” Charles asks, sounding like a mega jerk.
“I already had my bachelor’s degree from UCLA, and that’s all that was needed for the medical job. The hours are flexible, and I was able to juggle both school and work.” He leans over, pointing at his résumé. “As you can see, I was President’s Club the past three years while maintaining a 3.7 GPA.”
“You do realize that the position you applied for is a marketing analyst. You would be taking a deduction in pay. Why would you want that?”
“Yes, sir, I realize that. I’m looking to get out of the med device business. It’s cutthroat and demanding.”
“And you think this job isn’t going to be just as cutthroat and demanding?”
I kick Charles in the shin. His head turns to me, and he glares.
I don’t know why he’s being so combative. This was his choice. He’s the one who squeezed Reagan in for an interview.
“No, sir. Not at all. I know it’s a tough gig. I’ve always been interested in advertising sales, and Cavendish’s reputation is growing. I want to be a part of it. I think it would offer a unique experience with huge growth opportunities within the company.”
“Very well stated,” I offer, hoping to make Reagan feel a little more comfortable.
“And if I can be frank with you, money isn’t really an issue, as I invested wisely with the NFL salary given the two years I played. I’m willing to take a pay cut to get the experience in an industry I’m passionate about.”
“I love to hear that,” I say, ignoring the scowl on Charles’s face.
Charles grunts. “All right. Let’s start the questions.”
I look at him in confusion, and the next thing I know, he’s full throttle into an interview method we already discussed would not be the right way for these types of discussions.
Steam is practically coming out of my ears. I’m so angry.
The way he’s acting is absolutely ludicrous, yet Reagan handles him like a superstar, answering every question he’s asked like a pro. My anger quickly melts away as I sit back with a smirk, enjoying the way Reagan is soaring and Charles is getting pricklier.
We both shake Reagan’s hand when the interview is over, and I escort him to the lobby.
“Thank you for coming today, Reagan. It was very nice meeting you.”
“I’m not getting the job, am I?”
I blink, not having a clue how to answer that. “Mr. Cavendish and I have many applicants, but we’ll be in touch soon.”
He nods, offering a tight-lipped smile. “I really want this job, Miss Bennett. I hope you can convince him to take a chance on me.”
I offer him a smile. “We’ll be in touch.”
He walks out, and I can’t help but think that he could really be an asset to Cavendish. Except I think Reagan and I both know that Charles had something against him from the moment he saw him.
“Charles, what the hell was that?” I ask, barging into his office without so much as a knock on the door.
His brow rises. “Pardon me?”
“Why were you trying to antagonize him? If you were trying to be an asshole, you succeeded.”
His head jerks back. “I did no such thing.”
“Don’t act like you weren’t being entirely rude back there. And why? He was your choice. You’re the one who arranged for that interview.”
“He’s horrible for the position. Every woman in this company would be too busy gawking and flirting to do their job. You included.”
“What?” I shriek. “Have you lost your mind? What is wrong with you?”
Me? Flirting? Okay. Maybe I was a little. But that’s beside the point.
I take a deep breath. “I wasn’t flirting, Mr. Cavendish. I was excited by the experiences he brings. Imagine him working on the AlteredX line. A former NFL player would be amazing.”
He groans, running two hands down his face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t agree. I think we need to move him out of the running.”
“You’re making things very hard. You and I need to fill these positions, and that man nailed that interview. So whatever shit you have going on, pull yourself together and be professional.”
I spin around and tear the door open, preparing to storm out.
“Shut the door now, Raven.” His voice is low and threatening.
I look over my shoulder to see him stand from behind his desk and stalk toward me.
I turn, placing my back against the door, but it’s no use. He stomps right up to me so our breaths mingle, placing both hands on either side of my head.
“Do you think I wasn’t being professional?”
“Not a bit,” I say softly. “You were being a dick.”
His eyes widen, and one side of his lips raise. “A dick?”
“Yes. A big, huge dick.”
“Raven, you have no idea how big of a dick I can be.”