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COREY: TODAY
(Present Day)
San Francisco, California
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MORNINGS LIKE TODAYmade me question the so-called "geniuses" who created social media. I was sitting in my office, halfway listening to a clueless interviewee tell me what little she knew about the tech industry.
Dressed in an "I'm the SHIT" T-shirt and khakis, she was conducting a "Reasons Why You Should Totally Hire Me at Walters, Inc." presentation with pink glitter posters and Facebook page printouts—all while snapping selfies every few seconds and giggling like a teenager.
Refusing to believe she'd graduated from college, I glanced at her application to see how old she was.
Twenty-seven.
I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. I was somewhat grateful that I didn't have to give her my full attention since I was still having a hard time getting this weekend off my mind.
It'd been four days since Hayley crawled on top of me in bed, and the memory was making itself at home in my brain instead of getting the hell out.
I could still hear her soft moans in my ear, could still feel the wetness of her pussy against my fingertips. And the very thought of her plump lips against mine had forced me to take two cold showers this morning and six in total yesterday.
Knowing that she was going to be working here only made me envision the two of us entwined in places the security cameras couldn't see. But since the Human Resource portal had listed Hayley "Smith" as a new hire in Jonathan's department, I was happy to know I wouldn't have to see her every day whenever she started working here.
"Now for my last part of my presentation!" The brunette's shrill voice brought me back to reality. "I invite you to look at poster board number four. This is my top ten list of things that I think will make your future, private company better."
I blinked to make sure I was reading the words right. The third thing on her list was "Making all the hard, techy words easier for people like me to understand. #breakitdown #nobodyunderstandsthatstuffanyway"
I couldn't take anymore. I raised my hand before she could discuss the fifth thing on her list.
"That's enough, Miranda."
"It's Mariah."
"Close enough." I shut her file. "You can go now."
“You’re not going to let me finish showing my proposal? I’m not done.”
“I’ve heard more than enough.”
“How? You cut me off twice in the middle of my presentation!”
“Because you stopped to send text messages on your phone.”
“Those weren’t text messages.” She scoffed. “It was Snap-Chat. If I don’t post an update every hour, my followers will worry about me.” She held up her phone. “I wrote, giving a kick-ass interview with THE Corey Walters at Statham Industries. Hashtag, I’m focused. Hashtag, Getting a new job today. Hashtag, He’s so sexy. See?”
I rolled my eyes. “How many followers do you have?”
“A hundred, but that’s five more than I had last week. They usually increase whenever I post shots of my bra. Speaking of which, where’s the closest bathroom?”
“Okay.” I flipped her resume over. “It’s been interesting meeting you, Miss Thomas. I’ll be in touch.”
“That’s the end?”
“No, it’s the beginning.”
“Really?” She smiled. “So, do I just pick up where I left off?”
“No, that was sarcasm—one of the things you mentioned being well versed in, ironically. Your interview is over. You can leave.”
