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Warning bells went off as I recalled my conversation with Alexander from the day prior. My initial impression of him was correct—he really was a control freak. Every instinct I possessed was telling me to leave the room immediately, and this was bad. Really bad. Yet, for some totally insane reason, I found myself mildly aroused by his assumed authority and the power emanating from him. It compelled me to stay rooted to the chair.

“Yes, Mr. Stone,” I repeated like a parrot.

I was like an errant child who’d just been scolded, my voice small and pathetic to my ears. I couldn’t believe I was actually listening to him.

The mood swings I had experienced since entering this room were making my head spin. Anxiety, anger, embarrassment, and lust—I had felt them all, and I struggled to find stability within the hurricane.

I saw him looking down at my fidgeting hands. I stilled them immediately and took hold of my glass of water.

I need to remember why I’m here—I need this job.

“That’s better,” he murmured. He sounded satisfied, his face revealing a tiny smile. I couldn’t be sure whether it was because I’d stopped fidgeting or because I’d followed his order. The one thing I did know was that the balance in the room had rapidly shifted. I remained quiet and waited for his lead.

“There is a position at Turning Stone Advertising that needs filling. While the company is merely a subsidiary of Stone Enterprise, I occasionally get involved in their day-to-day business requirements.” He got up from his chair and walked to the window. With confident grace, he clasped his hands behind his back and continued, “I am always on the lookout for qualified and experienced applicants. In my world, incompetence is not something that can be tolerated. I like my people to be driven, reliable, and efficient. When I give a direction, I expect it to be followed to the letter, without question. When I find an individual who fits this persona, I hire them and pay them well, so they continue their employment with me. You, Miss Cole, have displayed that potential.”

“I appreciate that you see the potential in me, Mr. Stone,” I replied respectfully, making sure to address him correctly.

“Exactly how much remains to be seen,” he said thoughtfully, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

He turned to study me for a moment, and his careful scrutiny was intimidating. He reminded me of a lion stalking his prey. If I gave him the opportunity, he could strip my soul bare. No man had ever affected me in this way. He was irritating, arrogant, and alluring all at once. My stomach began doing that annoying flippy thing, and I shifted uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze.

“Tell me about your job duties at Wally’s.”

“Well, um, sir—Mr. Stone,” I stumbled over my words, trying to remember what the hell it was I did at my current job. “I mainly stock shelves and build displays. Occasionally, Mr. Roberts will have me bring groceries to the homes of our elderly clientele as a courtesy.”

“That’s a very noble thing to do. It makes me feel good about my investment decision.”

“So, you’ve decided to invest in Wally’s?” I asked, momentarily forgetting I was supposed to maintain a professional demeanor. As much as I wanted out of my current place of employment, I enjoyed my time there. I didn’t want to see Wally’s close and was happy to learn the grocer might be saved.

“I am not going to invest in them per se. My business is in real estate, not retail food chains. I’m just going to buy their buildings, which will help relieve some of their overhead expenses. There are a few wrinkles that still need to be ironed out, but I’m confident an agreement will be reached sometime within the next month.” He seemed annoyed at my interruption and didn’t elaborate any further about the deal. Instead, he continued with the interview. “You have a bachelor’s degree from NYU in marketing. What made you choose that as your major?”

That question had me stumped. Nobody had ever asked me that, and I never seriously considered the reason why I had chosen marketing. I just liked it.

I mused over his question for a moment before coming to the conclusion my fascination was in sales. I thought the answer might sound lame, but I had nothing better, so I went with it.

“I understand and appreciate the power of persuasion. Marketing, in a sense, is sales. If marketed correctly, you can sell anything. You just need to target the buyer accurately.”

“The power of persuasion?” He seemed surprised at my answer and tapped his finger thoughtfully on his chin.

“Yes. I believe persuasion through advertising can be viewed as a form of art. For example, a television commercial may convince individuals to buy a product they don’t need if marketed correctly. Images, music, presentation—they come together in one big package, crafted and bundled up to influence the consumer.”

“Very true,” he said with an appreciative nod. “Now tell me, what persuades you, Miss Cole?”

He gave me an unsettling look, one that made me feel another little twist in my belly.

“Persuades me? I’m not sure I follow you.”

“What influences you, or sways you, to do something you normally wouldn’t?”

“Music,” I stated simply, fighting to keep my faculties together. He cocked one sexy eyebrow at me, waiting for me to say more.

Focus on the question—not his eyebrow!

“Care to explain?” he pushed.

“Music can be a powerful source in marketing. For me, the right tune has the power to influence me one way or another in just about anything.”

“That’s a very interesting insight,” he said with a catlike smile, making me think he had a secret only he was privy to. He leisurely walked back to the table to reclaim his seat next to me. “I’m curious. What sort of music would influence you?”