Page 15 of Pure Recklessness

There was even a wine fridge and drinks cabinet with bottles of expensive alcohol and crystal glasses on display.

This was…

Wow.

‘Sit,’ he commanded.

I did as I was told, desperately trying to calm my nerves and not be affected by him. How could someone with such a horrible personality be so handsome?

‘So,’ he continued. ‘I read your so-called article. Did you seriously expect us to publish this nonsense?’

His words hit like a punch in the gut. He really was mean.

I knew the article wasn’t great, but I’d never heard my writing called nonsense before.

‘I tried my best,’ I said weakly.

‘If that’s your best, that’s even more shocking.’ He sighed. ‘To describe our new Lip-Stick vibrator you wrote: “Instead of touching up your make-up on the go, touch yourself up instead. Just one swipe of this fire engine red lipstick on your vagina will light a fire inside your knickers and leave you feeling tickety-boo.” Who the actual fuck says “tickety-boo”?’ he boomed.

‘It’s…’ I was going to explain that it was a phrase my parents used a lot to describe something good, but decided against it. ‘I⁠—’

‘Women don’t use a vibrator to feel “tickety-boo”, Miss Lewis.’ He jumped in. ‘They want it to rock their world! They want to see stars. Feel the earth move!’

‘I see what you’re saying, I⁠—’

‘And the description for the Helping Hand is even worse! In case you’ve forgotten what diabolical copy you sent over, allow me to refresh your memory: “Don’t want to put your own hand up your loved one’s bottom or inside their fanny? Try our new Helping Hand. It does the dirty work so you don’t have to.” Seriously? You think shaming our customers will make them buy from us?’ His nostrils flared.

‘I wasn’t trying to shame them, I—’ I attempted to explain, but once again he cut me off.

‘You’ve basically said that what they enjoy doing is dirty. Sex isn’t dirty. It’s pleasurable. And it’s what pays our salaries.’

‘That wasn’t my intention,’ I protested. ‘I did the best that I could in the time frame.’

‘You need to do better if you want to make it in the real world, young lady,’ he spat back, and anger bubbled in my stomach. I knew he was older than me but his tone was so condescending. He was talking to me like I was a ten-year-old and I didn’t like it.

‘I—’

‘First, you come to an interview unprepared,’ he snarled. ‘Then when Melissa is generous enough to give you a chance, you half-arse this article and expect to get paid for it! Have you always been so entitled?’

My bottom lip began to tremble and I willed myself not to cry.

I couldn’t let this man upset me.

It was hard not to be affected though when there was so much at stake.

I didn’t want to go home.

I couldn’t.

‘Well?’ he shouted. ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’

‘I did try to research the company!’ I replied, my voice quivering. ‘But I only got the call forty-five minutes before the interview and the Wi-Fi wasn’t working on the Tube, so I couldn’t get online. And I know the article isn’t my best work, but up until a couple of hours ago, I never even knew half of these products existed!’

He narrowed his eyes with suspicion and I hated that for the second time today, I caught myself noticing how striking they were. The man was pure evil. Not even his beautiful face or piercing blue eyes could make up for that.

‘So you claim to be a journalist, but you can only write about things that you have experience in?’ He cocked an unimpressed brow.

‘No! But at the very least I’d expect to be provided with basic product information or have some packaging to refer to. To ask me to write an article when I haven’t been briefed properly or given any details on the company’s house style of writing is unreasonable!’ I replied, pleased that I’d made some very valid points.