by Jessica Gray
Thoughts of her had kept him beating the street all week, trying to find a job to meet the requirements of his probation, but after several attempts, he was still unemployed.
He thought about the last interview, where he’d applied for a temp job as a warehouse worker, but they’d still asked to see his resume. A sheet of paper that hadn’t existed one week ago. After the first interview, he’d written down – by hand – what he thought a resume should contain. But once and again the potential employers had frowned at his paperwork and talk about how inadequate it was. How inadequate he was.
During the course of this week, he’d felt like he’d been taking a ride in a spin-dryer. He’d gone from optimistic to enraged to humiliated to outright depressed. Hopeless. People like him didn’t get a second chance. He might as well accept that fact of life.
With hunched shoulders he walked up to the third floor, dreading the look of disapproval his probation officer would give him when he came with empty hands.
In the past, he’d always found work at the repair shop a friend of his had owned, which suited the requirements for probation just fine. But Nick died last year in a car accident. So no job. No one to vouch for him. This was the first time Fernando had been forced to hit the streets looking for work.
The warehouse supervisor had shaken his head over Fernando’s resume and finally asked him about his criminal record. It always came down to his past. Always. When Fernando had handed over that sheet as well, the eyes of the supervisor had shown his disgust.
“Mr. Garcia, we run an honest business here. How can I be sure you truly have cut ties with your gang?”
“Mr. Landry, I’m trying to get my life together,” he said with his most sincere expression and tone.
The older man hadn’t been impressed. “Well, unfortunately, that won’t happen here. I don’t mind hiring probationers, but not someone who’s been brainwashed by a gang for so many years. Even if I were willing to take a chance on you, without a high school diploma, my insurance rates would go through the roof.”
“What does my having a high school diploma have to–?”
“Mr. Garcia, my answer is no. Good luck.” Mr. Landry had turned and walked away, leaving Fernando once again frustrated and wondering how he was supposed to honor the terms of his probation if no one would give him a chance.
Meanwhile, he’d arrived on the third floor, room 326. Maybe Gwen would have some sort of good news to bring him out of his current funk. He rapped his knuckles on the door frame and pushed the door open as soon as he heard her sweet voice call out, “Come in.”
His balls tightened, and he walked into the room before he could turn around and run away.
Gwen looked up and smiled. “Fernando. You’re early.”
He barely nodded and lowered himself into the seat in front of her without a word, seriously considering skipping the probation stuff and doing what he knew to do. Running. Stealing. Fighting. His gang would welcome him back with a backslap and a beer. They wouldn’t ask for a resume or criminal record. They accepted him just the way he was.
But then you’ll go to jail. And who will take care of Amada?
“You don’t look like you had such a good week. Want to talk about it?” Gwen asked, her blue eyes clouding with concern.
He looked at her sweet face and shrugged. “No one will hire me.” He’d been sure he could find a job easy enough, but here he was, with empty hands. An empty future.
“Ah,” she said as if she’d been expecting that outcome. She cocked her head to the side and instead of disappointment he saw empathy. “Nobody said it would be easy. You need to keep trying.”
As her amazing blue eyes met his and her scent wafted to his nostrils, the chemistry between them flared to life. He leaned forward, forgetting everything and everyone around him except for the sensational woman a few feet away. His dick twitched when her eyes flared with desire as they dropped to fixate on his lips. He slowly licked the bottom one and hid a satisfied grin when she mirrored his action, her pupils dilating with pure lust. Lust for him.
He responded, an unknown heat coursing through his veins and pooling in his groin. The strain against his zipper had the effect of a cold shower, and he mentally cursed himself.
Give it a break. Nothing is happening between the two of you. Nothing.
Just as soon as he got himself under control, he realized she almost looked…bored. Had he merely imagined her attraction to him? The desire flaring in her eyes? He furrowed his brows, studying her closely. One moment ago she was living fire and the next one cold like a stone. Unreadable.
I wish I had Amada’s ability to read people. To know what they’re really thinking or feeling.
The fact he was used to treating women merely as accessories didn’t help. The girls who hung out with his gang didn’t have value or opinions of their own. They were an adornment to boast – like the newest iPhone or a flashy golden watch. Their biggest achievement was to capture the toughest guy. They were weak. Needy.
He’d gladly taken what they offered. Fast and easy sex. No complications. No emotions. But he’d never dealt with a woman who was strong and self-reliant. Someone like Gwen.
And while he admired her guts, this made everything all the harder, because dealing with her positioned him way out of his comfort zone. But every time he tried to pull away, she drew him back to her with the force of gravity. His attraction to her was like nothing he’d ever felt before. How could he ignore something so strong it occupied every last one of his cells?
“Fernando. Are you listening to me?” She tapped a pen on the table to emphasize her words, and he was catapulted back into the sparsely furnished room.
“Sorry, can you say that again?” He leaned back and crossed his arms.
A strand of blonde hair had fallen into her face, and she tucked it behind her ear. “You can’t give up at the first sight of an obstacle. You have to try harder.”
“I’m no quitter.” He shot daggers at her, but she didn’t even bother to show a reaction and continued her lecture.
“You have no one to blame but yourself for being in this position. Your previous choices are now making it difficult for you to rise above your current situation. It’s your responsibility, and you’re the only one who can fix your life for the better.”
“How dare you!” Fernando didn’t want to trust his ears. While he knew everything she was saying was true, nobody had ever possessed the audacity to call him on his shit. Not even his former probation officers. “You’re supposed to help me, not roast my ass.”
His temper rose, and he pushed up from the chair. It fell back with a loud bang, but he could care less and started pacing the small room from one side to the other. Back and forth. Back and forth. His hands clenched at his sides, he wanted to crush something. Anything.
On his second pass, he glanced at her and stopped cold in his tracks. She’s not afraid. In fact, she looks very pleased with herself. I’m reacting exactly the way she wanted me to. That realization hit him like a brick and anger flared again. That woman is playing games. I bet that’s some psychology trick. But it will get her nowhere. I’m the boss here, not some…probation officer.
Fernando scoffed and grinned sourly at the ridiculousness of his thoughts. She was the boss here, whether he liked it or not. He better play by her rules. His anger would accomplish nothing except a quick trip to jail. He cursed under his breath then returned to the table, picked up the chair, sat down again, and stared at her. Now what?
Gwen didn’t flinch and held his gaze for several moments before she visibly relaxed and quietly asked, “Are you ready to listen to the rest?”
He nodded and gestured with his hand for her to continue.
“You are in control of your destiny. You have the power to change your life.”
Fernando listened to her rah-rah speech, having heard versions of it all before. He didn’t really believe it anymore today than he had those other times. “It sounds nice enough, b
ut my reality is a different cup of tea. My friends believe I’m crazy to try and change. It’s futile. I won’t make it. I’m better off doing what I’ve always done.”
“You need to find different friends.” Her voice was almost pleading.
He looked down and put his hands beneath his thighs to stop himself from reaching for her. “You can talk easy from the safety of your perfect little life, but in my world, it doesn’t work like that. You have no idea.”
“Fernando, change is never easy. If it were, people wouldn’t get caught in the trap of addiction or bad habits.” Her eyes locked with his, and he discerned an iron will behind her soft appearance. “This may be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do in your life. And the one piece of advice I can give you is to find your reason to change. A reason powerful enough to carry you through the hard times. Without a strong reason, of course you’ll fail at the first sign of adversity. Find that one thing that keeps you pushing forward, regardless of how wide or tall the obstacles seems.”
He watched her lips move faster as she talked herself into a rage and listened to her words. A reason to change? You could be my reason to change.
But before embarrassing himself by saying out loud what was in his mind, he did what he normally did when things got a little uncomfortable. He changed the subject. It was time to stop the painful soul-searching and turn the tables on her.
“You want to go out with me?”
Gwen stopped her motivational lecture and pursed her lips. He’d deliberately crossed the line, just to make her feel uncomfortable and witness her reaction. With baited breath, he waited for her to explode.
But she didn’t. Explode or even raise her voice. She looked at him with unreadable eyes. “No. I don’t want to go out with you. Besides being highly illegal, I make it a habit to never go out with one of my probationers.”
Fernando was stunned at her calm reply. He had never been able to contain his temper and stay calm. And yet, this woman had done just that. While part of him was disappointed at her refusal to go out with him, the other part admired her for the way she’d so coolly handled his affront.
As their meeting wound down, he manufactured reason after reason to extend the time and stay in the room with her. To enjoy her presence and the powerful effect she had on him. His body. His soul.
“Perhaps you can come with me to my next job interview? To see what I’m doing wrong and help me fix it.”
For a short moment he thought she might agree, but then she shook her head, “That’s not how this works, Fernando.”
“You offered to help me last week,” he reminded her, using her own words against her. “Isn’t that the kind of work probation officers do? Help their clients find a job and become an honest, hard-working benefit to society?”
Gwen gave him a measured glance, but then she slowly nodded. “You’re right. And I would be happy to assist. Call me when you schedule your next interview and I’ll make every effort to be there.”
Fernando smiled at her and was still smiling when he left the meeting room a few moments later.
Chapter 6
Gwen pressed her back against the metallized wall and stared at the number above the door as the elevator rose toward the top of the skyscraper. Fernando was standing next to her, trying not to fidget, but she had worse problems than him being nervous about his job interview.
Like controlling her breath. Or willing her legs to stop trembling. Heck, leaving the elevator alive and in one piece would be more than she could ask for. Since the moment she’d parked her car at the end of the block and spotted the tall building, her trepidation had grown with every step.
Of course his appointment had to be on the thirty-fifth floor. No way to take the stairs and arrive in time.
Twenty-three.
Twenty-four.
Twenty-five.
She shuddered inside, carefully regulating her breathing so she didn’t start hyperventilating.
Twenty-six.
Twenty-seven.
Why couldn’t this thing go faster?
Despite being only the two of them in the elevator, Fernando’s presence made it seem full. She inhaled his unique scent, his cologne mixing with his natural masculine smell, and she didn’t know what she was more afraid of: being in the elevator, or the way her body responded to his presence in the tiny space.
Heat rolled off his body in waves, luring her to give up the relative safety of the wall against her back and lurch directly into his arms. She might have done it, if it wasn’t for the three feet of daunting space she’d have to traverse to reach him. With nothing else to do than to control her breathing, she became so aware of his body, his breathing, his slightest movement, the hair on her arms stood on end.
Gwen closed her eyes for a moment, willing the image of the closed elevator to go away and conjured up a wide-open space at the beach. When Fernando tapped his foot on the floor, her eyes fluttered open.
Thirty-one.
Thirty-two.
Three more floors to go. She’d almost reached her breaking point of being able to stand her ground and remain professional when the elevator car finally slowed and came to a stop. She released her breath and didn’t even wait for the doors to completely open before she squeezed through the opening and into the hallway.
She took a few deep breaths and looked back at Fernando, whose nerves were too frayed to notice her anguish. The interview was for a general courier position, and she thought it was a good entry-level position for him, where he could get used to working nine-to-five workdays, and in time, prove himself capable of more responsibility.
Fernando approached the receptionist, and moments later, a platinum blonde woman in her fifties with perfectly manicured fingernails and a figure-hugging dark blue business suit stepped into the waiting area. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of Gwen and ushered them both back to her office in a speed that Gwen hadn’t thought was possible on five-inch-heels.
The woman introduced herself as the human resource manager and cut right to the chase. “Mr. Garcia, I see from your resume that you didn’t finish high school,” Mrs. Samuels said, tapping French tips on her desk.
Gwen felt sorry for him, but also admiration when he met the woman’s eyes and answered her truthfully. “No, ma’am. I did not. Circumstances got away from me, but I’m trying to get my life turned around. Getting a job is my first step.”
Mrs. Samuels didn’t seem impressed, and it took all of Gwen’s self-control to keep her mouth shut. The interview continued with the human resource manager pointing out Fernando’s faults and lack of experience time and again.
They really should hire someone with at least a faint idea of psychology and politeness.
“Mr. Garcia, I’m afraid this position…well, you’re not what we are looking for. This is not a good fit for you.” She stood up, intending to end the interview and send them on their way. Gwen had been sitting on pins and needles during the entire interview and now couldn’t hold back.
“Mrs. Samuels, if you would only give Mr. Garcia a chance to prove himself. I can vouch for…”
The woman looked down her nose at Gwen. “What? You can vouch for a criminal? What are you, his probation officer?”
Gwen stood up then, meeting the woman’s stare head on. “Actually, I am, and I happen to be open-minded enough to realize people can change. And when they’re in the process of doing that, they work their asses off to prove themselves. It’s called a win-win.”
Mrs. Samuels sniffed. “Well, he’ll have to do his changing elsewhere. The board would have my head on a platter if–”
“Then maybe your company shouldn’t have your name listed as potential employers if your board has that mindset,” Gwen shot back.
The HR director’s eyes shot daggers at her. “We do hire those with minor bumps in their road. Not…” she sneered in Fernando’s direction, “gang members who could put our employees’ lives in danger.”
Fernando stepped forward. �
��I’d never–”
“Never what, Mr. Garcia?” Mrs. Samuels interrupted looking down at Fernando’s file. “You’d never steal? Beat someone up?” She tossed the folder on her desk. “I think that proves otherwise. Now, I have other interviews. Please see yourselves out.”
Gwen clenched her hands into fists and nodded at Fernando tightly. “Let’s go.”
They walked back to the elevator in silence, and with every step, Gwen grew more concerned. She knew about Fernando’s volatile temper from their meetings, and right now, every wave of anger rolling off of him constricted her heart. If she could only do something to cheer him up.
She wanted to put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but that probably wouldn’t be her brightest idea. Instead, she turned to him. “Hey. You should be thanking the fates you don’t have to work for that woman.”
“What an arrogant bitch.” His eyes turned dark with fury as he continued, “It’s always like this. Nobody wants to employ someone like me. No diploma. No experience. And once they see my criminal record, they believe they have the right to treat me like shit. Can’t get me out of their offices fast enough.”
“Better opportunities will come around,” she said in an effort to brighten his bad mood.
“Not for me.” He launched forward and stabbed repeatedly at the elevator button before shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “This whole thing makes no sense. Finding a job is part of my probation, but anyone with any sense knows that nobody will hire me. Nobody.”
Gwen physically felt him closing up and giving in to his anger and despair. Suddenly a cold shiver ran down her spine. What if he did something stupid in his current state of mind?
“Fernando–” she began, just as the elevator doors opened.
“Just forget it. Thanks for trying to help. But just…forget it.”
She mechanically followed him into the elevator, too concerned about his mood to ask him if he’d mind walking down the stairs. When the doors closed she realized her mistake, but it was too late. Her heart sped up, and her palms grew damp as she forced herself to think of anything but the fact that she had to stay in a steel coffin for the next few minutes, dangling hundreds of feet over solid concrete.
