Serenity
God, I really needed this job.
My thrift store heels clacked on the marble floor of the Midas building’s bustling reception area. The walls were towering, painted in vibrant shades of red and pastel, contrasting in perfection, and covered in modern art. So tastefully decorated.
If only I could have said the same about myself. My pencil skirt and blouse, purchased at the same store as my heels, showed a bit of wear and a small stain on one sleeve. And the skirt was too short. I kept having to tug it down, trying to cover the worst of the scars on my legs. Unfortunately, the deepest, most vicious of the marks were clearly visible through my pantyhose. I’d hoped to buy slacks, but every pair hung off me, and it wasn’t just because most of the store’s donations came from paranormals larger than me—I was still much thinner than I should be.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I’d been strong enough to survive everything that had caused the scars and the loss of weight. I was strong enough to do this too. I clutched my folderof sketches to my chest and walked toward the large, well-dressed lady standing behind the reception desk. She looked like a shifter.
“Hi, I’m Serenity Dawson,” I said. “I’m here for a job interview.”
She sniffed the air and glanced up from a high-tech looking screen set inside the glass desk. Her nose wrinkled, like she didn’t like my human scent, or maybe she didn’t like the scent of vamps or their venom, that perhaps still lingered or seeped out of my body after several months. Believe me, the thought of vamp scents disgusted me too. The first thing I’d done when they’d let me go from the feeding den, and I’d found my way to a shelter, was scrub myself from head to toe. Until my skin was raw.
Her gaze swept over me and her eyes instantly settled on a bad scar on my neck—two thick, dark punctures I hadn’t been able to completely hide with makeup. There had been the option of a scarf, but I couldn’t stand anything wrapped around that area, not even the gentle press of cotton or wool. It reminded me too much of things that had led to the scars in the first place.
Her upper lip curled in distaste. “Do you know who you’re meeting with?”
“Um, no, actually. I’m sorry. The interview was set up through my—well, a friend.”
“Which position are you applying for?”
“The logo designer, ma’am.”
She snorted and tapped the screen a couple of times, then picked up a phone and said into it, “I’m so sorry to disturb you, sir.” Her voice was breathy and completely different than before. “It’s me.” She said it like the person on the phone should have known who ‘me’ was but by her next words it was clear whoever she was talking to had asked for clarification. “You know, Sierra. From reception. Your cougar girl for whatever you need,” she said in a flirty rush. “Well, not that sort of cougar. I am younger than you.” She giggled, a blush darkening her cheeks.
I couldn’t make out his response.
From her frown, I didn’t think she liked his reply. “Yes, well, the first of the design candidates just arrived. And I think there’s something you should know. I’d be happy to come up and—”
He must’ve cut her off. She listened intently.
“Of course, of course.” Her voice was still a flirtatious murmur, but had turned more serious. “I’ll have security escort her up. Just let me know if you want to talk later. I’m always happy to help, Mr. Harding.”
Mr. Harding? Wasn’t that the CEO of Midas? I’d done most of my research on the companies within Midas itself, not on its leadership. But that name sounded familiar. Oh, please tell me I wasn’t about to meet the freaking CEO.
Oh my God, I was meeting the CEO of New Nebraska’s largest, most successful corporation.
I was perched on the edge of a leather chair in a giant office, and sitting across an unnecessarily large desk from a man who had to be one of the wealthiest people in New Nebraska.
His cufflinks and wristwatch looked so fancy they could probably have paid for this building. Though I suspected he already owned it. Dressed in a dark suit and red tie, he was casually checking over my sketches as I sipped at the water his secretary had brought me. He hadn’t moved from his chair since I’d walked in—not to shake my hand when I’d offered it, not to take the coffee his secretary had brought in and strangely left on a side table rather than just hand it to him, and not to take my folder of sketches. I’d been forced to slide it across the desk when he’d made no move to reach out to take it.
Eyes still on the sketches, he lazily flicked through them. “So, Miss Dawson, these are excellent,” he said in a delicate but deep voice. “You’ve got a lot of talent.”
I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Thank you so much, sir, I—”
“But I can’t help but notice the design experience on your resume is”—he leaned back in his luxury chair, the leather squeaking as he shifted, mulling my pitch so far—“somewhat lacking.”
His gaze was now firmly fixed on me. Even though he’d just leaned back, he now leaned forward. Continuing to look at me, he scooted his chair closer for the first time, causing wisps of his cologne to flutter through the air. Goodness, he smelled amazing. Like citrus and some sort of deep, warm spice. It reminded me of the ginger cookies I used to make with my mom. We used to put extra clove in them.
The reminder of my childhood home calmed my nerves a bit and I relaxed enough to process why Sierra had been flirting so hard over the phone. He was handsome. Beyond handsome.
Sometimes I didn’t process things like that right away. My attraction to men had been almost non-existent since I was fifteen, when my foster family sold me into the vampire feeding den. But there was no denying this guy’s appeal and thankfully, whatever sort of paranormal he was, there was no sign he was a vamp. He was solidly built and pretty tall—though it was hard to tell exactly how tall since he hadn’t left his chair—but he didn’t have that hulking look of a shifter or pointy Fae ears either. Maybe an elemental?
A very handsome elemental with a square jaw, lightly shaded in stubble. Rich brown hair and eyes the same shade, they delved into mine, staring at me with such an intensity.
Oh, I needed to respond. “Yes, sir, I do realize my experience is a bit scant just now.” I took another sip of water and pressed my free hand to my skirt to stop its shaking. “But I swear, what I lack in experience, I’ll make up for in initiative and hard work. I know design. I’ve already started researching the companies you want updated logos and branding for. I know I can do this.”
He nodded and smiled. “I like initiative and a strong work ethic. It wasn’t so long ago I was starting Midas, and with not a whole lot of experience myself.”
