That sounded promising. And his eyes, such a warm shade of brown, kept fixed on mine as I thought of my reply. He seemed to be genuinely engaged in what I had to say.
“What you’ve done has been incredible, sir. All the companies, in such a wide range of industries, that you’ve helped flourish. Bringing so much stability to New Nebraska. I’d be honored to work here and I promise to bring that enthusiasm to my design work.” I managed a small smile to return his.
“I like that attitude.” He cleared his throat. “I think HR would kill me for asking, but how old are you?” His gaze danced across my body and he quickly looked away, dropping his head in a shy manner that took me by surprise.
“I’m twenty-two.” God, that probably sounded young to him. He had to be at least mid-thirties if he’d founded Midas, though there wasn’t a gray hair on his head nor a wrinkle on his face.
“Quite young to be so talented.” He looked back up at me, and I swore he stared at my lips this time as he waited for my reply.
“Thank you. I’ve known I wanted to do something with art since I was little, doodling at the kitchen table. My mother encouraged me to learn design software from an early age. Then I took graphic design courses online in high school.” Well, the only two years of high school I’d attended. But he didn’t need to know that.
“Good for you. I’m sure that took drive.” He glanced down at my resume. “You don’t list what high school or college you attended, but I assume they’re outside New Nebraska? You’re human?”
“Yes.” I coughed, feeling a bit uncomfortable about the fact I’d just sort of implied I’d been to college.
“May I ask why you want to work in New Nebraska? Not very common for a human, though I wish more would’ve stayed after the Agreement or decided to relocate here in the years since, like you.”
“To be honest, sir, I’m not sure how long I’ll stay.” I fidgeted in my seat and resisted the urge to tug at my skirt. “But if I get thisjob, I promise I’ll see it through to the end. I’ll keep working until I’ve delivered exactly what you want.”
“Delivered what I want?” He mumbled under his breath and his eyes flared. We stared at each other for another moment with his eyes growing wider and a bit wild, then he scrubbed a hand over his face and blinked hard, the heated look disappearing. “I didn’t mean to pry and I appreciate that answer.” He looked at my resume again. “And it says here you’ve been teaching drawing and design at a youth shelter here in New Omaha?”
“Yes. It’s been so rewarding, and really honed my skills.”
“Hmm. Also commendable.” He smiled, another open and genuine expression. I wished I hadn’t had to be deceptive about my lack of education. “And like I said, you’re not short on talent, that’s for sure.”
“Thank you.”
He looked at my sketches again, flicking back and forth a couple of times. “But I’m going to be honest.” He sucked in a breath and sighed through gritted teeth. “There are a lot of candidates coming over the next few days and I suspect many of them will have decades of experience.”
“Of course. But may I say, experience doesn’t always match up to passion.”
“Yes, passion.” He gave a wry smile. Then he tugged at his shirt collar, shook his head and shrugged. “I agree, but there are a lot of candidates to meet. If after talking with them, I think you’re the most suitable, my HR manager will be in touch.” He began gathering up the sketches.
Standing, I leaned over the desk to help, and he jerked back in his chair, pushing it at least three or four feet away on its wheels.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I stepped back. Dammit, I’d done something wrong. But what?
Flustered, his cheeks turning rosy, his gaze swept over me againand he nodded at the sketches. “Go ahead, take them. My secretary will see you out. Thank you for coming.”
I moved close to the desk again, extending my hand, even though I doubted he’d accept it. He didn’t. He just nodded. “Thanks again for coming.”
“Thank you for giving me this opportunity. Have a good day,” I said as I gently waved goodbye.
“You too, Serenity.” He gave me one last look before I turned to leave, his eyes lingering around my face but also sweeping down my legs as his expression hardened.
I wasn’t getting this job. Though he’d been super polite, he must have noticed the feeding marks. He’d only grown more uncomfortable as the interview went on. The reason for him jerking away at the end like that was becoming clear: he didn’t want to work with a human who’d let herself—or in my case, been forced to—be a vampire feeding toy.
I sighed. I felt trapped, hopeless. I refused to spend the rest of my life washing dishes and cleaning up after vamps and other paranormals in a strip club. Ironically though it had been the club’s owner, Hunter, who’d pulled some strings to get me this interview.
After being led out by the secretary and getting a frosty goodbye from the receptionist, I stepped out into a brisk fall breeze. The trees lining the sidewalk were bare of leaves. They carpeted the concrete instead. Dead or dying, like my hopes for the future.
A reluctant thought came to me. If I was really willing to do whatever I needed to get out of New Nebraska and have a fresh start, perhaps it was time to ask Hunter if I could go from dishwasher to dancer.
Hunter
Icouldn’t take my eyes off her.
The wooden stool creaked under my weight as I shifted on its polished surface and looked down the lengthy bar, watching as Serenity clinked fresh glasses onto the shelves above the liquor bottles. She finished a row, bent over for more glasses in the crate by her feet and noticed a streak of grime on the floor. She quickly grabbed a rag and wiped it up.
