I snatched my arm away, cursing my bad luck. If my fucking car had been outside, I’d have missed her. Then again, I’d have also missed that gorgeous creature who… hello… just entered my building. “No, we don’t,” I snapped.
“We can do this here, or in your office,” she said, her voice increasing in volume, drawing the attention of a group of my employees on their way out to lunch. “But I’m not leaving until we’ve talked.”
I gave her a cold stare. “Fine.” I gripped her elbow and hustled her into my private elevator. As the doors closed, I caught sight of the mystery woman, her back to me, waiting to be seen by one of my receptionists. I’d deal with Caroline, then find out who she was.
Angie’s eyebrows shot up as I exited on my floor, Caroline in hot pursuit. “Call Gillan. Tell him I’ll be late.”
I opened the door to my office and stormed inside. I waited for Caroline to join me, then I slammed the door.
“Well, make it fast. I told you I was busy.”
Caroline’s eyes glistened. “How can you be so cruel?”
Sweetheart, you’ve got no idea how cruel I can be. “What part of my note didn’t you understand? It clearly stated not to contact me again. It was written in English, yes?”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Christ, you’re a total bastard, Dayton. Callous, heartless, vind—”
“So I’ve been told,” I drawled.
“And fucking useless in bed.”
I caught her chin, tipping her head up, giving her no choice but to meet my icy stare. “We both know that’s a lie, sweetheart.”
She slapped my hand away. “How could you do this to me? I thought we had something.”
“I promised nothing.”
I should have guessed her next move. Tears. Give me fucking strength. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was a weepy woman.
“I thought you loved me,” she wailed.
Ah, and therein lay her problem. See, I wasn’t capable of the type of love she sought. In a way, I judged her for not being the one to end it. I treated her horribly, and yet she kept coming back for more.
“That’s enough!” I snapped at her. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“Please, Dayton,” she begged. “Give me one more chance. I’ll be better. I’ll do anything you want. Anything.”
The last vestiges of respect I might have had for Caroline disappeared with those words. I gave her my coldest stare. “Begging is such a turnoff.”
Her wails reached epic proportions. I pressed a button beneath my desk, sending an alert to my head security officer. Seconds later, right on cue, he arrived. He took one look at the scene and immediately asserted control. Firmly, but gently, he caught Caroline by the elbow.
“Come with me, please, miss ” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
I half expected her to resist, but after sending a final pleading look in my direction, she meekly followed him. I waited for the door to close, then sank into my chair and called down to reception. Time to find out who my mystery woman was.
“Somers Technology Solutions, Hannah speaking. How may I—”
“This is Dayton Somers,” I said, cutting off the receptionist in the middle of her standard greeting. “A woman came into the building a few minutes ago. Cream-colored raincoat. Black shoes, dark, waist-length hair.” Amazing fucking legs.
“Oh, y-yes, sir,” Hannah said, flustered.
I tended to have that effect on a lot of people. Didn’t stop me from finding it annoying.
“I checked her in myself,” Hannah continued.
“Who is she here to see?”
“One moment, sir.”
I expelled an irritated huff. She’d only signed her in a few minutes earlier. Couldn’t she damn well remember?
“Ah, here we are. Ms. Christa Adams. She’s here for an interview with a Mr. Jake Martinez.”
I hung up without saying goodbye. I opened the company phone directory, typing in Jake Martinez. I didn’t recognize the name, which meant he wasn’t part of my leadership structure. I employed thirty thousand people worldwide. I couldn’t know them all.
A picture popped up of a geeky-looking guy in his late twenties. Cropped hair, thick-rimmed glasses, a team leader in the software engineering department. I moved up the hierarchy until I reached a name I did recognize. Frank Fuller, my Head of Application Development.
I put in a call to Frank. Christa Adams was about to become my Friday night date.
3
Christa
Clamminess slicked my palms as the door to the interview room opened and the most put-together woman I had ever seen walked out. She gave me the once-over, decided I wasn’t decent competition when compared to her, and walked down the hallway with a confident swagger that screamed she’d nailed it. I hoped that wasn’t true, because this was my twentieth job interview, and I’d lucked out on the previous nineteen. Worse than that, though, I didn’t really have the qualifications for this particular opportunity, but when I begged my recruitment agent to at least give me a shot, he agreed to put me forward for the interview. My savings were dwindling at an alarming rate, and I needed a job—fast.
Breathe deep, stay focused, you can do this.
A guy in his mid-to-late twenties, with Roy Orbison style glasses that kinda suited him, poked his head around the door. “Christa,” he said. “Please come in.”
I got unsteadily to my feet. Inside the large conference room was a smoked-glass oval table surrounded by ten high-backed leather chairs. An enormous painting hanging on the wall opposite almost filled the entire space. I knew nothing about art, but I was certain that hadn’t come from the dollar store.
“I’m Jake,” he said, holding out his hand for me to shake. I did, hoping like hell mine wasn’t as clammy as I feared. “I’ll be conducting your interview today.”
“Thank you for seeing me.” Too squeaky, Christa. I cleared my throat then removed my coat and hung it on a rack. I took the seat he gestured to, placing my purse on the floor. The chair was still warm from the previous occupant. I tried not to think about her. My confidence didn’t need a further knock.
“Not at all.” He sat opposite.
I recognized my résumé in front of him, but he paid it no attention. Instead, he linked his fingers together, rested them on the expensive-looking table, and locked eyes with me.
“Why don’t you start by telling me why I should hire you for this coveted position rather than offer it to the more qualified candidates I’ve seen today.”
I had to suppress my shock. Talk about hitting me with the hardest question first. I swept my tongue over dry lips, then took a sip of the water he’d helpfully placed on my side of the table. It bought me a few precious seconds to organize my scattered thoughts.
“I’m aware that I may not be as qualified as other candidates, but I believe I bring a wealth of attributes that will ensure I fit in very well. I’m young, enthusiastic, quick to learn, happy to start at the bottom and work my way up. I like being part of a team, and although my experience might lean toward the more theoretic side of software development, I qualified top of my class while bringing up my son alone. That demonstrates I can successfully multitask. I’m aware I’m not the most experienced candidate, but I can guarantee if you give me a chance, you won’t regret it.”
I paused for breath, hoping that sounded better to Jake than it did in my head, where it came out fast and in a complete jumble. I had no idea whether that even remotely hit the points Jake was looking for, but when I searched his face for answers, there were none.
“Okay, then tell me why I shouldn’t hire you.”
Again, he’d wrong-footed me. I was completely out of my depth trying to get a job in a place like this. The only office-based role I’d ever secured had been as Sutton’s PA. At the time I thought I’d landed the role on merit, but after we’d slept together, he’d told me he’d hired me because I had great tits and was easy on the eye.
; I took a deep, calming breath and thought about why I might not fit in here. An incorrect answer could scupper my chances for good, but I wouldn’t lie to get my foot in the door.
“Well,” I began, “you shouldn’t hire me if you’re looking for someone who thrives in a very structured environment. One where there are lots of rules and processes and procedures to follow, where management strictly prescribes how to perform each task. I’m at my best when my creativity is allowed to flourish, when I’m free to explore different ideas, when I’m allowed to try things and see what works best.”
For the first time, a flicker of interest crossed Jake’s face. He even briefly nodded, then bent to thumb through my résumé.
“I see you lived in Seattle until very recently. Why the move to New York, especially without secured employment?”
Bile rose in my throat, burning the sensitive skin. I swallowed it back down, then took another drink of water to rid myself of the awful taste. I had expected this question, and yet I still wasn’t sure how to answer without bursting into tears. I could lie and say I had family here, but as I had always been a terrible liar, no doubt Jake would see through me in an instant. Then he’d start to wonder what I was hiding, and it’d be bye-bye great opportunity. I decided to plump for a half-truth.
“My ex and I had an acrimonious split. My priority is my son, and I felt the best thing to do for his welfare was to move cities. New York has a lot of opportunities, particularly in the software development field.”
“Not as many as San Francisco,” Jake countered.
My stomach plummeted. I should have left off the last part. Now I was forced into revealing more than I’d like. “Too close to Seattle,” I whispered.
Jake leaned back, his hands resting in his lap now, instead of on top of the table, and his eyes latched on to mine. “How old is your son?” he asked gently.
Perhaps he felt sorry for me.
“Two,” I said. “His name is Max, and he’s the light of my life.”
Jake’s lips curved into a smile. He nodded then returned his attention to my résumé, but before he could ask another question, there was a knock on the door and a much older man peered inside the room. For one horrible second, I considered that I might be about to face a panel interview, but he simply smiled at me then cocked his head at Jake.
“A word.”
The man stepped outside.
“Apologies, Christa. I’ll be two seconds.”
Jake’s chair eased back, and he got to his feet. Once he’d disappeared, I quickly checked my cell in case the babysitter had contacted me, but thankfully, there were no messages. I slipped the phone into my purse as Jake returned. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was dishevelled. A knot formed in my stomach. I didn’t like the look of this.
“Um, Christa, can you come with me? I’ve been asked to take you up to meet our CEO.”
“What? Why?” The shock must have shown on my face, because Jake bit his lip and shrugged.
“I’m afraid I wasn’t given that information.”
For a brief moment, I considered refusing, although that’d be completely dumb. If the boss of the company wanted to see me, then I had no alternative other than to walk out, and that really would be stupid. Despite the nerves swarming through me, I put on a confident stance. Perhaps this meant good news.
“Sure.”
I slipped the strap of my purse onto my shoulder, laid my coat over my arm, and followed Jake down the hallway to a bank of elevators. He pressed the call button, and the third one along pinged, then the doors smoothly parted. By the time we reached the top floor, my heart was thundering so loudly, Jake must surely have been able to hear it. The earlier sips of water I’d taken hadn’t done a thing for my dry mouth. Conversely, my palms were clammy and hot.
Jake held a badge against a panel on the wall and opened a glass door, gesturing for me to go through. The carpeting on this floor was even thicker than in the conference room, and my heels sank into the pile as I walked beside Jake. On either side of the hallway, frosted glass prevented me from seeing what was inside. When we reached the far end, Jake took a left turn. Behind an elegant charcoal-gray desk sat a woman in her early forties. She lifted her head as we approached.
“Ms. Adams, go right in.”
She indicated the door to her left. I stared haplessly at Jake.
“Good luck, Christa,” Jake said.
He shook my hand and walked away, leaving me alone and confused. I watched as he strolled down the hallway. I felt as though he’d abandoned me.
“I wouldn’t keep Mr. Somers waiting, if I were you. He’s not a patient man.”
The woman’s terse reminder jolted me back to the present. I sucked in a deep breath and knocked once, then pushed the door open. I took in my surroundings. Unlike Sutton’s office, brim-full of antiques and false old-world charm, this space, although equal in size, was all hard edges and sleek lines, the furnishings cool and contemporary. My eyes cut to a stylish executive desk in front of a row of floor-to-ceiling windows with a spectacular view of downtown Manhattan. Standing behind it, his back to me, was Mr. Somers. At least I assumed so, considering this was his office.
“Hello,” I said tentatively. “I’m Christa Adams. You asked to see me.”
He turned around slowly. As our eyes met, I had only one conscious thought.
Run.
4
Dayton
Christa Adams was even more stunning than I originally thought. Beneath the raincoat, which she’d laid over one arm, was a navy blue suit that she’d matched with a burgundy satin shirt. My gaze slipped south to those fabulous legs that had first caught my attention, but she boasted more than a good pair of stems… she owned the whole damn package. Dark hair framing an oval face. Smooth, olive skin that had my fingers itching to touch it. Rich chocolate eyes, the type that saw through men like me, not to mention great tits and a slim waist, both of which would fit perfectly in my hands. Yep, Christa Adams met my needs very nicely.
“Ms. Adams. Thank you for coming.” I gestured to the chair opposite my desk. “Please, have a seat.”
She didn’t move. Her body language reminded me of a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck, desperate to run but cursed with legs that refused to obey. All her instincts were firing, but she feared the truck would pulverize her anyway.
“I-I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”
She made a move to leave, but I was quicker. I got to the door first and barred her exit. It didn’t matter that I was probably committing a felony in all fifty states—I could not—would not— allow her to leave. Not yet. Her eyes widened, and her pupils dilated, all but eclipsing those captivating irises.
“Don’t be scared,” I said in a voice far gentler than I thought I was capable of. “I only want to talk to you.” I stood to the side of the door, leaving the exit clear. An illusion, because she wasn’t going anywhere.
This one was clearly different from my norm. She might have the face of an angel and a body made for sex, but she lacked the hardened edge of a Caroline. She didn’t appear to have the killer instinct to see something she wanted and go for it, regardless of who might get hurt in the process. Unfortunately for her, I had that killer instinct in spades—and she’d become my latest target.
She bit her lip, her gaze flicking between me and the route to her perceived safety. “Why?” she asked.
I frowned for a second, not following, and then I realized she was asking why I wanted to talk to her. “You’re here for a job, correct?”
She nodded, her teeth digging farther into her lip. If she wasn’t careful, she’d break the skin. I found the idea of bending my head and using my tongue to lap up the blood oddly attractive.
“Well, I’ll be performing your stakeholder interview. It happens from time to time.” No, it doesn’t, not with the level of position she’d applied for. “Please, sit down.”
She hesitated, then on unsteady legs—believe me, I noticed—she w
alked across my office and sat in the chair I’d previously indicated. I strolled behind my desk and tugged my laptop closer. Her résumé was in my inbox as I’d requested. I opened it, giving it a quick scan. She was underqualified for the job she’d come to interview for. She might have the right technical qualifications, but her practical experience was sadly lacking. The department she aimed to join created applications for a lot of our top clients. A rookie developer simply wouldn’t work. Sure, I wanted to get into her panties, but not to the detriment of my business.
Still, there were always options.
I started off with a few easy questions, and like a flower coming into bloom in springtime, Christa opened up beautifully. The more she spoke, the greater my interest piqued.
“And what attracted you to my company, Ms. Adams? Why do you want to work here?”
She met my gaze head-on. “I’m passionate about software development, Mr. Somers, and your company is at the top of its game. In the twelve years since inception, Somers Technology has achieved worldwide accolades for its innovative approach, and two years ago, you made it into the top five software companies in the U.S. Working here would be a dream come true. I’m fully aware I lack practical experience. However, I more than make up for that with a willingness to learn. I’m bright, determined, and hardworking. I want a chance to prove what I’m capable of, that’s all.”
Impressive. She’d done her research and hadn’t given me a banal, stock answer. I also liked the fact she aired her shortcomings. I couldn’t stand those people who thought they could bullshit their way through an interview. Especially with me.
I stroked my beard, my eyes locked onto hers, daring her to look away. She didn’t. Hmm, interesting.
“And the other four from the top five are in San Francisco,” I said, glancing once more at her résumé. “You moved here from Seattle. Why didn’t you apply for a position closer to home?”
Tempting Christa: An Irresistibly Mine Duet - Book 1 Page 2
