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“I’m a multitasker, so when I’m on the phone I’m also writing emails, managing Mr. Knox’s reservations and such. I try to keep my conversations as clear as possible. I’m sorry if I came across as off-putting.”
“Oh, no, you sounded badass.” Why did I keep talking? “Sorry, I will not use such language while on the job.”
“It’s alright. Can I get you a coffee or water?”
“A water would be great.”
“I’ll be back in a second.”
She left me alone in the middle of a living room the size of my entire house with all-white furniture. The wall behind me was completely open and I could see the whole Las Vegas Valley from where we were. This place must have looked amazing at night, but there was something very sterile about it. Everything around was very modern, sharp edged, and even if it looked like one of the multi-million-dollar houses on the Architectural Digest cover, this was not a child-friendly place.
Emily appeared from behind a wall with a glass of iced cucumber water.
“Here you go. I will go announce to Mr. Knox you’ve arrived and then be back to take you, ok?”
“Sure.” I sipped the water and stayed there awkwardly, not knowing what to do and too afraid to touch anything. I just drank water the entire minute Emily was out of sight.
“Ok, Amy, Mr. Knox can see you. Follow me, please.”
“Umm, I don’t know what to do with the glass.”
“Leave it to me.” She took it and we walked together to one end of the house where there was a tall, dark wood door with a silver handle. “Behind that door,” she said shortly, and then turned around and went back. I guessed she had more emails to answer and no more time to lose with me.
I looked at the intimidating door like it was the gate to hell and a lump formed in my throat. I didn’t know much about Hunter Knox, but I knew he had a brilliant mind for business, he was tough, and intimidating. I googled him last night in a weak attempt to get ready for this, but the only interviews he’s ever given were about his entertainment business in Forbes and other publications like that. He was handsome like a devil with blue eyes and dark hair, fit like a Calvin Klein model, and powerful like the almighty. I had a right to feel a little overwhelmed about this whole thing, and it took me a couple of minutes to shake it off and push the door open. My jaw dropped when I saw what was happening in there.
The office was impressive, in total contrast with the other room I saw. Here, he had tall mahogany shelves filled with books on every wall, a window that looked over the driveway, and a desk that was matching the rest of the furniture. The chair behind it was empty because Hunter Knox was a few feet away, shirtless, running on a treadmill. There were a few drops of sweat running down his perfectly sculpted chest, and I wanted to go there and lick them.
I didn’t know what was happening to me, but my body capitulated in front of this running man, looking like a god going to war. I’ve never had such a reaction to anyone and now I could understand a little better the fascination people had for him. There was something about Knox that pulled you closer, enticing your senses.
Shit! I was here to convince him I was trustworthy enough to take care of a child and my panties were wet. Damn it!
After several moments of silence, Knox looked at me and raised his eyebrows.
“Are you her?” His voice sounded like thunder.
“What?” Was I her? I had no idea what answer he was expecting.
“The nanny? Are you her?”
“I’m here for the interview, yes. My name is Amelia. Amelia Hart.”
Knox looked at me again, this time from head to toe, shamelessly scanning every inch of my body, and then he raised his eyebrows again.
“Start talking,” he said, his tone sharp.
Damn it to hell, I was being interviewed by an A-list asshole. He was exactly what the press portrayed him to be—cold, domineering, and ruthless—and I was here to impress him.
Fuck me and my unlucky star.
“About what would you like me to talk, Mr. Knox?”
He stopped the treadmill and threw a white towel over his shoulder.
“Are you incompetent?” There was no trace of sarcasm in his voice.
“Excuse me?”
I didn’t care he was Hunter Knox, I didn’t care if he was God himself, I wasn’t going to let him talk to me like that.
