That, of course, got me to thinking about being overpowered by them. Don’t ask me why.
And suddenly, the room had heated about fifteen degrees.
Should’ve nixed the blazer.
Two
“IF YOU WOULD FOLLOW US, we’ll set you up in the conference room,” Justin said, his voice deep but clear, with an authoritative ring to it. I didn’t detect an accent of any kind.
I met his smoldering blue eyes and nodded.
Turned out, I only ended up following Justin while the other three pulled up the rear. They resumed their conversation from the elevator, which, from what I could tell, was a rundown of their meetings for the day. I briefly wondered whose calendar the interview was on.
Justin stopped at a tall glass door, inserted a key to unlock it, then pushed it open. He allowed me to precede him, so I stepped into the room.
I was right about the windows. They ran the length of the room—floor to ceiling—and didn’t have blinds to obstruct the view. The awesome view, I might add. The conference table that sat in the center and filled about three quarters of the space looked to hold roughly fifty people on a good day. I’d never seen anything like it. It was very modern with an opaque-glass top that appeared to be several inches thick. The chairs were black leather, all executive style. I had to wonder how many clients they had in there at a time. That seemed like a lot to me.
“A few times a year, we fly all of our managers in for meetings,” Justin informed me, apparently reading my mind.
A lot of employees, then. I nodded and tucked that information away for later use.
Landon—I could tell the difference because he was wearing glasses and his twin was not—pulled out a chair and I mumbled my thanks as I slipped into it, careful to keep my skirt from riding up too far. As it was, I was baring quite a bit of thigh and the last thing I wanted was for them to think that I’d done it on purpose.
“Can we get you anything? Coffee? Tea? Water?” Langston offered. Now, he did have an accent, a sexy twang that hinted at his down-home roots. It wasn’t local, I knew that much.
“I’m good, thank you.” I felt as though I should’ve been offering them something, but I refrained. I would save that for my first day on the job. And no, I wasn’t talking about offering up my body. Although…
“Would you mind giving us a few minutes?” Justin requested.
“No, not at all.” I kept my tone sweet, meeting each of their eyes in turn.
I watched as all four men then walked out of the room.
“D-ay-um, Kristen. Where have you been hiding these guys?” I whispered to myself, then quickly jerked my gaze up to the corners of the room.
I was wondering if they had surveillance cameras. And yep, lookie there. They did. Several, in fact. Which meant I should probably stop ogling and undoubtedly stop muttering to myself.
Keeping my back straight and my hands tucked into my lap, I continued my perusal of the room. Aside from the ginormous table, there were three couches in this room also. These were black leather with neatly squared cushions, set in the same U formation as those in the lobby. Rather than facing a desk, though, they were positioned in front of a projection screen on the wall. Seemed like a good place to go through presentations to me.
Unlike the lobby, where the tiled floors were a dark gray rectangle in an offset pattern, the floors in here were big, oversized squares, neatly aligned and gleaming white.
Black, white, and chrome seemed to be the theme in this room.
It seemed a little sterile to me. On the other hand, it was professional. If it were mine, I would’ve decorated it with a few bright-colored floral decorations. Something to draw the eye and give a little life to the place.
Several minutes passed and I fought the urge to fidget, hyperaware of the cameras. I wanted to make a good impression, not look like I was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice.
When the door opened again, Ben was the one who stepped inside. His smile was still firmly on his face, and I was still transfixed by it. He carried himself like a man who was comfortable in his own skin. The smile came across as warm and friendly, which instantly put me at ease.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” His voice was deep and it suited him nicely. No accent either.
Unless you’re on the menu, then no.
“I’m sure. But thank you.” I effectively ignored my inner hussy.
His charcoal suit highlighted his dark skin and looked spectacular on him. I could only imagine how nice his butt looked in those slacks without the jacket. Not that I was looking.
Fine, I had looked, but my attempt hadn’t been successful.
He nodded, then took the seat directly across from me and placed a manila folder on the table.
Crap.
I didn’t bring an extra copy of my resume. I knew I had forgotten something that morning.
Ben opened the folder and relief hit me like a tsunami. The first sheet was a copy of my resume. I was happy to see it for two reasons. One, it proved they were expecting me. And two, I forgot the extra one.
“Why don’t you start by telling me a little about yourself, Luci.”
Smoothing my hands over my skirt, I forced myself to maintain eye contact while making a concerted effort not to look constipated. Although I should’ve been a pro at these things by now, interviews weren’t my forte. I got nervous, I sweated in places I shouldn’t sweat, and I had a hard time speaking. Put me in front of a super-hot guy and it got doubly worse.
“As you can see by my resume, I have a significant amount of reception experience,” I said, keeping my voice even, cheerful.
Ben’s smile widened. “How about a little about you first. I’m more than aware of your work experience.”
“Oh.” That took me somewhat by surprise. “Like what? I mean, what would you like to know?”
“What are your hobbies? Where did you grow up? Those types of things.”
Although his voice sounded professional, there was something in his eyes that said he would prefer to know my bra size. Then again, I could’ve been imagining that because I wanted to show him my bra so he could find the size himself.
Wait.
No I didn’t.
I was no hussy.
Not like you could put a handsome man in a suit in front of me and my hormones took the reins.
Okay, they did.
That probably had a lot to do with the fact that I was single and the only orgasms I’d had in the past, oh, I don’t know, two years had been from my trusty vibrator. Well, to be honest, it had been two vibrators. I wore the first one out completely. I had always had a powerful sex drive, but I was quite adept at sating my own urges. Porn and my vibrator were my two best friends, I wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
Shit.
I was mentally off topic and now Ben was staring at me, his honey-gold eyes reflecting what I could only assume was amusement. If he knew what was going on in my head, I’m not sure he’d be smiling.
I took a deep breath, let it out.
What were my hobbies? Probably shouldn’t tell him about porn and my vibrator.
So, that meant I had to go with the growing up part.
“I grew up not far from here,” I told him. “My mother’s a dentist, my stepfather’s a firefighter—he adopted me when I was six—my real father died when I was three and I don’t really remember him. I have no siblings, and they wouldn’t let me have a pet growing up, but now I live in an apartment, still don’t have a pet because I don’t have time for one, but that was up until three weeks ago, anyway.” Yes, I was a rambling mess. “Technically, right now I have plenty of time since I don’t have a job, but that’s not to say I don’t want one, because I definitely do—a job, not a pet—and as you can see, I’ve got a ton of reception experience.”
This time Ben laughed, a dark, rich sound that dripped with sexiness and made me grateful I’d worn panties.
I replayed what I’d just said in my head and realiz
ed I sounded like a total moron.
Great.
Ben leaned forward, closed the folder, then got to his feet.
Shit.
Did I seriously just blow the entire interview with one ridiculously long run-on sentence? Well, two ridiculously long run-on sentences, to be fair. I had taken a breath in there somewhere. I think.
“Is the interview over?” I asked when he stepped away from the chair.
“Certainly not.” His face was expressionless, his eyes assessing me again. “I’m going to have Mr. Parker come in. Then Langston and Landon. After they’ve all asked you a few questions, we’ll convene and let you know.”
“Oh.” Okay then. I briefly wondered why he referred to one of his colleagues as mister but referred to the other two by their first names.
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Luci.”
“Thank you.” When he shook my hand, this time I was reluctant to let go, but I forced my fingers to release his as he once again smiled down on me.
My brain suddenly conjured up an image of me on my knees and…
Oh.
My.
God.
I’d completely lost my mind.
•
By the time Mr. Parker—Justin—strolled into the conference room, I had managed to battle back the blush that heated my face when Ben was on his way out. I knew this because I had glanced at myself in the reflection of the table and it appeared I was as pale as I had been when I walked in the office.
Not that that would be the case once Mr. Parker began talking, but at least I got a clean slate to start from.
He didn’t remain standing for long, so I only had a few seconds to take in the dark blue suit that emphasized his navy-blue eyes. He was taller and broader in the chest than Ben was, narrower in the hips as well, but I couldn’t confirm on the butt because he, too, was wearing a jacket.
“I see you’ve held a multitude of jobs over the years.”
“That’s true,” I agreed.
“Was there one that held your interest more than the others?”
I thought about that for a moment, then shook my head. “No, Mr. Parker, not that I can recall.”
“Please, call me Justin.”
Okay then.
“So, Luci, tell me a little about your experience at”—he opened the folder and skimmed the extensive list of companies I’d worked for—“um…Super Cuts?”
I smiled because this was the easy part. “I worked there for about three months as a receptionist back when I was just out of college. I answered phones and scheduled appointments. Sometimes they had me sweep the floor if I had nothing else to do.”
Did I say easy?
I really meant lame because now that I heard myself, I was no longer wondering why no one was hiring me. Any idiot could work as a receptionist at Super Cuts if they were solely responsible for answering the phone and sweeping the floor. Sheesh.
Yes, Justin. I’m an idiot. But I take orders well.
I forced my mind not to wander because I felt Justin’s eyes on me and I didn’t want to imagine him ordering me to go to my knees.
Fuck.
I was completely out of control.
Someone shoot me now.
Before I could think of anything else to add, Justin leaned forward, closed the folder, then got to his feet.
Son of a bitch.
I was on a roll this morning.
Although Ben had assured me I would be meeting with all four of them, I wasn’t sure that was the case any longer. After all, I had heard myself. I made eye contact with the handsome Justin and asked, “Is the interview over?”
“Not yet, no. I’m going to send Landon and Langston in. Once they’ve run through their questions, we’ll meet and then let you know.”
Okay, good. So that was still the plan. I felt a little better. Granted, this interview was a bit strange what with the lack of questions or details, but I figured I couldn’t complain. They hadn’t booted me out yet.
“Thank you for meeting with me.” I shook his hand when he offered.
“My pleasure.” He pivoted, then slipped out of the room.
“Okay, Luci. Time to make like Stella and get your groove on.” I was no longer worried about the cameras overhearing me talking to myself. Wasn’t like I could look more like an idiot than I already had.
I glanced over at the counter, noticing the bottles of water. Glass bottles. Fancy ones. The kind no one really drank, but they set out so they looked like they had class and money.
Not that I was doubting that these guys had either, but…
The door opened and I turned to see Landon and Langston coming in. Their suits were a conservative black, shirts a crisp white. Landon’s tie was a deep burgundy while Langston’s was a shimmering royal blue. They looked nice, professional. Sexy.
Langston grabbed one of the glass bottles of water and unscrewed the top before taking a sip, disproving my theory that they were only for show.
Landon sat down in the chair across from me and Langston perched his hip on the cabinet behind him. Both men seemed to be observing me intensely. I fought the urge to squirm under the scrutiny of their gazes. It wasn’t easy, especially when my eyes met Langston’s. There was something about that man, something that made me think of smoking-hot sex.
Finally, Landon spoke. “What makes you think you’re qualified for this position?”
He had the type of deep, raspy voice that single women wanted to hear whispering in their ear moments before they were rocketed into the ether riding the waves of an intense orgasm.
Yep. Flip me over. I’m done.
Landon’s dark eyebrow lifted and I realized he was waiting for me to speak.
“Well…” I smiled, then my mouth ran away from me when I blurted, “I’m not sure how to answer that since I haven’t the faintest clue what the requirements are.”
“If you don’t know the requirements, why’d you apply for the job?” His voice rang with amusement. And sex. Mostly sex.
Damn it.
That wasn’t him, that was me.
I didn’t want to tell them that I applied because my friend told me I should. That didn’t seem very responsible. It wasn’t like I was expecting to get it simply because I knew Kristen either. Sure, we’d become good friends over the past two years, but I certainly wasn’t trying to ride her coattails. Then again, I wasn’t above latching on and taking a short ride if it meant steady employment. Hell, the idea of having to live with my parents was enough to have my desperation ratcheting up a notch or twenty.
I kept the smile on my face. “Because I’m quite aware of the reputation of this company and I felt I would be a good fit here. I’m a hard worker, speak well with clients, and I’m looking for something to broaden my horizons.”
“Very nice answer,” Landon stated at the same time Langston muttered, “Good girl,” from his spot near the wall, his hazel eyes pinned on me.
There was something about the way he said that. Something that made me want to continue to have him praising me in the future. Like I said, I was losing my mind. But hey, I’d already dug a deep enough hole to hide in; what was the point in trying to climb out now?
Unlike Ben and Justin, Landon didn’t open the folder.
“Tell me how you know Kristen Morrow.”
Okay, so they evidently knew how I’d heard about the job, and I had to assume that they knew her as well since they were the only ones who’d asked about her. “She’s a friend of mine,” I admitted. “We met at yoga class a couple of years ago. We hang out from time to time.”
My answer seemed to placate them.
“I noticed you have a degree in accounting.” Landon’s eyes scanned my face as he spoke.
“That’s true, I do.”
I’d been told to never provide additional information that they didn’t require because it overshadowed the interview and if they weren’t in need of an accountant, what did it matter anyway?
“Are you
interested in the secretary position, Luci?” Langston asked.
“Yes, sir. I’m actually interested in any position.”
Jeezus. Did I really just say that?
There was a flash of something in Langston’s eyes that instantly had me crossing my legs a little tighter, a welcome ache taking up residence between my thighs. Well, it would’ve been a welcome ache if I weren’t in a job interview. And if I had my trusty second vibrator handy.
“We work Monday through Friday,” Landon told me. “You’d be required to be here from seven thirty to five thirty. An hour for lunch. We shut the office down at one on Fridays, but we do require one Saturday a month. My partners and I don’t arrive until closer to eight. One or more of us is often traveling, so it would be critical that you be able to manage your time and your duties with little instruction from us.”
I nodded. I could handle those hours and those requirements, despite the fact that I’d be getting up at the ass-crack of dawn every day.
“We each have extensive teams who work remotely. Rarely will you see anyone else in the office. However, we are a client-facing business, so the dress code is professional. What you’re wearing is certainly appropriate.”
“With one exception,” Langston noted.
My gaze shot to his face as I waited for him to elaborate.
“Your skirts should be no shorter than the tips of your fingers when your arms are hanging at your sides. Anything shorter would be considered indecent and grounds for…discipline.”
I had no idea why the word discipline coming from that delectable mouth sounded so naughty, but it did.
“Yes, sir. Fingertip length.”
“Otherwise, your attire is appropriate,” he concluded.
Still, that meant I would have to go shopping because this was the extent of my professional wardrobe. I hadn’t been required to dress up at Super Cuts or Home Depot or Target. When I’d done a brief stint as a receptionist at my mother’s dental office, she insisted I wear scrubs. Those few weeks I had tried my hand at waitressing a couple of years back, Hooters had supplied the uniform.
Office Intrigue Page 2
