by Alice Ward
“Your brother knows very little about me. And I clearly know even less about him,” I stammered, my mouth dry, withering beneath Noah’s gaze. To have such an attractive man with so much power staring at me like I was a present he wanted to take home was disconcerting, making the room spin around me. I clutched my canvas bag, trying to remain steady.
“Tell me something interesting about yourself?”
I gulped. “Something interesting about me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “It is an interview, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, exhaling. “Okay. Something about me. Throughout the years, I’ve collected a lot of photos. I don’t take them. Photography isn’t my thing, but I love the memories that photos capture, especially when the photographer has captured someone off guard, acting completely natural. Growing up, I insisted my grandma take loads of photos.” I snapped my mouth shut to stop the ramble.
He grinned broadly, making his eyes crinkle, as if something I had said brought him great joy. It was a complete contradiction to his earlier imperiousness. “I meant in regards to your qualifications, but I like your answer much better.”
Inwardly, I groaned. No wonder I hadn’t landed a job since graduating. I was a babbling mess, but I didn’t mean to be. Pressure didn’t make me fold, but the air of authority that wafted off Noah was intoxicating, turning my mind to butter.
“Corey never should have given you my name,” I said, faltering under Noah’s scrutiny. “He doesn’t know anything about my qualifications. I should go.”
“You’ll leave when I’m ready for you to leave,” Noah replied, asserting his command as he adjusted the sleeves of his suit, his tan a stark contrast against the white of his dress shirt. “Otherwise, we will have wasted each other’s time, and neither of us wants that, do we?”
“No,” I agreed. “Your time is valuable.”
“As is yours, Imogen.” He sat on the arm of a couch, never losing his focus on me, as if I were the epicenter of the room. “How about you try asking questions about me? You must be curious, seeing that Corey failed to mention he had a brother.”
If he were trying to put me at ease, it worked. The atmosphere was no longer that of an interview; it was a casual conversation. Acquaintances united by a common thread, that thread being Corey. Me, an unemployed but hardworking scientist. And him, the striking billionaire who could crush me with the power enfolded within his eyes.
“Okay,” I said, taking a seat on the couch across from him. Folding my hands together, I set them on my lap. “Do you like photos?”
He laughed. “I’m impartial.”
I nodded, as if it made sense. “Who’s older, you or Corey?”
“Me, by two minutes.”
I believed it. His presence spoke of an older brother type, domineering and likely fiercely protective. It inspired my next question. “Do you miss Corey?”
“Try again,” he said, leaning forward, fixed on me. “This isn’t about my brother. It’s about you and me and whether or not we can work together.”
He was so close, I could smell the mint of his breath. It made my skin tingle, and my mouth moisten. Quickly, I wracked my mind for a question that would prove to Noah Stafford that I would be a good fit for him in his company. To my frustration, all I could think about was Corey and how much the brothers looked alike, as if it were Corey who sat across from me, having returned for me like he promised. If Noah didn’t have the demeanor of a sexy dictator, or a lack of tattoos along his neck, I wouldn’t be able to tell the brothers apart. With the lines blurred between them, my mind couldn’t function properly.
“Hot dogs,” I sputtered. “How do you feel about hot dogs?”
“I once dressed like one when I was a kid,” he revealed freely. “During graduation from my boarding school. I wanted to stand out, to make my mark, and that’s how I did it.”
“You did?” I asked, relaxing. If a man like Noah was willing to admit something so humiliating, then I had nothing to worry about, except that on second glance, he didn’t seem at all embarrassed. He looked proud.
“It made the newspapers the next day. My father was furious. He threatened to cut off my trust fund unless I issued a public apology, but I never did.”
“It must have been hard going to a boarding school, away from your family,” I mused.
Noah kept his composure, but a hint of sadness shadowed his face. “It was what it was. I made the best of it.”
“I went to a normal public high school. I was such a nerd,” I said, laughing, losing myself to the conversation. “I’m big into anime — Japanese cartoons. They’re my favorite. I’ve also read like every comic book there is. My grandma collected them. She thought they would be worth money someday, but unfortunately, she had an awful habit of picking out the most generic ones possible, those that everyone has on their shelves.”
“I never cared for comic books,” he said, but not in a superior way. “People aren’t born to be heroes. We have to choose to be.”
“Is that what you’re doing here? Are you choosing to be a hero?”
“Some would call me a villain, because of my… fortitude,” he said, refracting my compliment. “But I have no time for scoundrels. Knowledge isn’t meant to be hoarded. It’s meant to be shared so that we all can benefit. I was privileged to be born into wealth, but there are certain human conditions that have no regard for how much money a person has or their status in society, like illness. Stafford Scientific was founded on the idea that if we pool our knowledge together, humanity can find a way to save those who need it.”
“That’s honorable,” I said, finding my center and speaking with my own tone of authority. “And I’m not just saying that so you’ll hire me. Whether or not I work here, I think what you do here is very admirable, and I’m thankful you were willing to meet me.”
“Meet me, sir,” he said, his voice low and insistent with a depth that drew me towards him. “Everyone in this company must call me ‘sir.’”
“I’m not your employee yet,” I argued breathlessly.
He sat up taller, maintaining his command of the room. “Tell me, Imogen, if you didn’t think you were qualified to work here, why did you come?”
“Because I’m out of options,” I answered truthfully.
Noah smiled, but it didn’t feel like a smile. It felt like a challenge. “When there is need, there is innovation. Perhaps I can use your need to my advantage.”
“I don’t do innovation. I’m an environmentalist,” I contended, resisting his pull, reminding myself that he wasn’t Corey. My body responded to Noah the way a bee did to honey, but from the way he looked at me, which was neither wholesome or brotherly, my instincts told me I was a game he was playing for the sake of his brother, some sort of twisted sibling rivalry. The problem was, I liked it.
Get ahold of yourself. You have your career to think about. This isn’t about Corey or Noah. This is about your career.
“I don’t do innovation, but I am intelligent,” I continued. “I’m also resourceful, and I’m dedicated. I drove two hours to get here in an old hatchback that may not get me back home. That’s how much loyalty I already have to this company and to you. I’ll take any job you’re willing to offer me, and I’ll do it well.”
“I suspect you will,” Noah perceived. “You were right when you said my brother didn’t know your qualifications, but I do. I make it a habit to know the background of all my employees. You were the top of your class. Your academic supervisor called the dissertation you wrote for your master’s degree one of the best he’s read. Tell me, what did you write about in your dissertation?”
I suspected he already knew, but I told him anyway. “I explored the relationship between humans and their environment. We tend to abuse our positions in the ecosystems we occupy. We take advantage of those below us on the food chain. We remain masters of the kingdom, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have respect for those we control, those we influence.”
> Noah listened intently. I could see his mind processing what I said, like a teacher heeding his student. “Yes, I quite agree,” he stated when I finished. “When someone asserts their authority, it’s not for their own benefit. It’s to enlighten those they command.”
It wasn’t exactly what I meant, but I was certain Noah wasn’t talking about ecosystems. He referred to a relationship much more personal. It was inappropriate, but I wasn’t in the real world anymore. Everything about Stafford Scientific was surreal, including the man who ruled it.
“Well, that’s the beauty of being human,” I replied. “We control our own destiny.”
“But what if someone could control your destiny for you?” he asked. “Wouldn’t that be the ultimate freedom? To live without the burden of choice?”
Undone by his vigor, I bit my lip, unable to respond.
Corey, I reminded myself. He said he would find me. It’s Corey who I want. Not his deliciously evil twin. Or hero twin. Whatever.
It helped. “No,” I said. “It would not be the ultimate freedom. Choice is freedom.”
This seemed to please him. He smiled, challenging me once more. “You have a lot to learn about humanity, Imogen. Perhaps I can teach you. Is that why you’re here? So I can teach you?”
“I’m here because Corey wants me to be. When he’s finished with his work in Thailand, he’ll return for me.”
His smile faded. “Did he tell you that?”
“Yes. He told me he would find me. I guess being here makes it easier for him. That, and he knew I needed a job.”
“I see.” He looked disappointed. “Too bad for me, but well done to my brother. You truly are loyal, even if it is misguided. We don’t have a department that would benefit from your degree, but perhaps we should. Until then, I’m confident I can find a place for you here.”
“Really?” Flooded with relief, I broke into a huge, unsophisticated grin that would have embarrassed me if Noah had never told his hot dog story. “That means a lot. Thank you. I’ll take whatever you have to offer.”
“My personal assistant will soon be promoted to another department, and I have yet to find a replacement for her. Your timing is opportune.”
I tried not to flinch. Being Noah’s personal assistant didn’t sound opportune at all, not when I was easily tempted by him. Since leaving Thailand, Corey had been the center of my daydreams, and now the same face was staring at me, offering to teach me in ways I couldn’t begin to imagine.
“He saved me,” I revealed, trying to set boundaries so that Noah would understand why I would remain loyal to Corey, no matter how much they physically resembled each other. “I put myself in a bad situation, and he came to my rescue. He does that. Like you, he rescues people.”
“He shouldn’t,” Noah said coldly, any goodwill between us slashed by his iciness. “His arrogance puts him at risk.”
“Arrogance has nothing to do with it. He’s looking after those who can’t defend themselves. Not just me. Others too, including an entire herd of elephants.”
“I’m aware of my brother’s efforts. I receive the statements from his trust fund. I used mine to build this company. His is being wasted on these fleeting notions of his. Most things my brother does are fleeting,” he said poignantly, a warning to me. “That’s where his arrogance lies. If he were as devoted to his causes as he claims to be, he wouldn’t be guarding a single herd of elephants while his money runs dry. He would build something of substance, like set up a foundation. He would sacrifice his need to rebel and commit himself to their cause, raise awareness of their plight here, at home, where there’s money and influence.”
“You miss him,” I observed, reading between the lines. “You want your brother to return as much as I do.”
“Don’t think you know me, Imogen. And don’t think you know my brother. How much time exactly did you spend together?”
I lifted my chin. “Time doesn’t matter.”
“Time is all that matters.” Like stone, he turned away from me. “You start Monday. Don’t be late.”
***
After the interview ended, though it didn’t feel like much of an interview, Peter escorted me back to the lobby where a woman with a very memorable face waited for us.
“Isn’t that the digital assistant?” I asked Peter, wondering how far the labs at Stafford Scientific had gotten in their development of holograms.
If she was a hologram, she was incredibly lifelike. With her hair layered around her perfect mocha complexion and dazzling smile, she looked like she was one of the goddesses the stars on the ceiling were named after. Like everyone else in the company, her clothes were exquisite, exemplifying the efficiency of the company. With a leather scarf wrapped around her neck as an accessory, she wore a plum-colored dress that hugged her curves but was modest and professional.
“Imogen,” she greeted me. “I’m Julia Wilson, Mr. Stafford’s personal assistant. You’ll be replacing me when I’m promoted in a few weeks.” She shook my hand, which was warm and very much alive. “I’m very pleased to meet you.”
“Me too. In person. We’ve already met in the digital world.”
She laughed. “Yes. The program was designed after me. My clone, except that it’s much bossier than I am.” She lightly touched Peter’s arm, causing him to blush. “That will be all. Thank you.”
“Of course,” he mumbled, momentarily falling victim to the awkwardness of adolescence.
“Let’s go,” she said to me. “We have some shopping to do.”
“Shopping?” I asked, following behind her as she dashed towards the exit. “I don’t understand.”
“Your outfit doesn’t fit Mr. Stafford’s dress code. It’s too… suburban. Personally, I love it. It suits you, but Mr. Stafford’s word is final.”
I was skeptical. “How did he arrange this in the short amount of time it took to get down here? The interview only just finished.”
“You may not realize it, but you had the job before you walked in. Mr. Stafford has been looking over your files all week. He knows more about you than you probably know about yourself.”
“That’s a little creepy,” I uttered as we stepped outside.
“It’s not creepy; it’s prudent. His brother rarely makes contact with him. In fact, I didn’t even know he had a brother until I received the email on behalf of Mr. Stafford. Of course he was going to investigate the woman who inspired his brother to resurface, no matter how briefly.”
“You read the email?” I asked, intrigued.
“It was short, but it got the point across. Corey provided Mr. Stafford with your name and hometown, and he asked that you be given a position in the company so that Mr. Stafford could watch over you. That was it. I did a quick search with the information he provided and found an obituary for your grandmother in a local newspaper that mentioned you as her only known descendent. Finding your address was easy after that.”
I stopped, needing a moment to process everything. My life had been equivalent to a tumbleweed rolling around aimlessly. Now, I had a job, one that required me to move to Chicago, and I was about to go on a shopping spree with a woman who had a digital clone.
Julia patted my back. “Celebrate. Change is a good thing.”
“I hope so.” I took my wallet out of my canvas bag and examined the bills inside. “I don’t have much to spend, especially now that I need to look for an apartment here. Is there a thrift store nearby?”
“That’s not the way Mr. Stafford operates,” Julia said, gently taking my wallet from me and placing it back in my bag. “He would never expect the expense for his demands to fall on his employees. The company will pay for your new wardrobe. It will also pay for your apartment.” She took my arm and guided me towards a glossy car with tinted windows. “I hope you don’t mind having me as a roomie.”
My spirits leapt.
“Not at all,” I said sincerely. I liked Julia. On first impression, she was a doll designed by the company, but her person
ality sparked through whatever formality was required of her.
A driver got out of the car and opened the door for us. “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, tipping his hat.
“Afternoon,” I returned.
“Fred,” Julia greeted.
“I’ve never been a personal assistant before,” I reflected as we settled into the backseat. “Is it difficult?”
“Not at all,” Julia told me. “It’s demanding. Though our office hours are normal, our contract stipulates that we’re at Mr. Stafford’s beck and call until midnight. But it’s not difficult.” She smiled slyly. “It even comes with its perks. You’ll only be expected to be his personal assistant for a year. After that, you’re free to move on to any department in the company.”
“Really?” I was surprised. Peter had mentioned something similar, but I figured it only applied to the geniuses.
“Of course. I have PhD in Business Economics from Harvard. I didn’t spend a year answering phone calls and scheduling meetings for nothing. I’ve proved my loyalty to Mr. Stafford. And that’s why I get to move on,” she chirped. “As long as you remain loyal, he’ll do the same for you. After looking over your files this week, he even mentioned developing a department solely dedicated to the impact the company is having on the environment. You’ve only been here one day, and you’re already inspiring change.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I asked, “Where are we going?” I needed to change the subject. It was too overwhelming. “The high street?”
Julia tittered. “No high street. Mr. Stafford has his own street, a row full of shops dedicated to his needs. As his assistants, we have access to it.”
Tucked away discreetly near a park, the street was not far from the company. As we shopped, we were treated like royalty. Champagne waited for us at every corner, and we were offered massages and manicures between fittings, all with the request that we wish Mr. Stafford well on behalf of those who attended to us.
