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My eyes moved to the man, he sat at the back of the room behind his own desk. This one larger than the others and the only one that had a computer.
I could only see the top of his shoulders and forearms but from what I could make out he was ripped. He wore a black t-shirt, stretched across his muscles. Tattoos danced down his skin, one side black and gray the other side full of color.
He lifted his face toward me and pulled off the beanie hat that sat on top of his head. His large hand ran through his light brown hair trying in vain to tame it.
“Kaylee?” His deep voice vibrated through me, this man screamed danger. The good kind. Wait, was there a good kind?
“Yes,” I croaked. I cleared my throat “Yes,” I said louder.
He raised his brows at me, tilted his head to the chair opposite him then scribbled something on a piece of paper.
I moved forward, sat in the chair and wiped my hands on my legs, my palms had never sweat before and now was not the time for them to start. He carried on scribbling on the paper for several more seconds, then lifted his head up.
“So…” He leaned back in his chair. “You want a job?” He crossed his arms, his muscles moving in a way I’d never seen before.
“Yes.” I could feel my cheeks heating from his intense gaze.
“Have you worked in an office before?”
“Yes. I worked the reception desk at a small hotel until I was eighteen.” Hotel was a stretch, but experience was experience. Right?
“And how long ago would that have been?” Was he asking how old I was?
“Four years.” I shifted in the chair. He scanned me, much the same as Kitty had outside. His chocolate brown eyes held me captive. Assessing me, seeing down to the depths of my soul. I looked away and cleared my throat.
“That makes you twenty-two?” I nodded in reply.
“Any other experience that would help you in an office.”
“I can organize things?” That was lame but I had nothing else to say. When I worked at the small hotel, I never had to have an interview, they were friends of my mother’s so naturally they gave me a job. I’d loved working there, but I had to give it up when I had Eli.
“Organize things?” he repeated.
“Yes, I have to organize a four-year-old every day, and let me tell you, it’s not easy to do.” I laughed at that, the sound shrill to my own ears.
Trying to lighten the mood was not working.
“You have a kid?”
“Yes, is that…” I clutched my hands in my lap. “Will that be a problem?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. I had come across this look so many times, the judging. He was working out how old I would have been when I had Eli, thinking that I was some kind of slut to get knocked up while still in high school. Yes, I may have got pregnant at a young age but I did everything I could to care for Eli.
“No,” he said. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.”
“It won’t” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“The job involves answering phones, book meetings…” He shuffled some papers on his desk. “General filing, that sort of thing.”
“I can do that,” I said, confident that I could.
“Here’s what I’m gonna do.” He leaned forward, interlocked his hands and rested them on the desk. My eyes glued to the way his veins popped in his forearms. “I’m gonna give you a month’s trial.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, see how you get on.” I smiled wide, I actually got the job.
I. Got. The. Job.
