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Chapter Two
Mia
As soon asI’m in the elevator I go over all the sensible things I can say.
I need to talk up my waitressing experience. Talk about that first.
I’ll mention things like customer service and being a people person.
I waitressed for five years. Before college and during, while I lived on campus. It was all to help my living expenses. I got a scholarship to Harvard so the fees were taken care of. It was just everything else and I was so happy to be there that I didn’t mind the work. Dad, helped too because business at the time was booming. He’s a software developer and owns his own company.
Our family was doing reasonably well, and Carter wasn’t as bad as he is now. No one would have foreseen the trouble my brother would land himself in, just brewing on the horizon.
The elevator stops on the fifth and as I go through the door the vision of the place sweeps me off my feet. The effect makes me stop in my tracks.
I’m in a Venetian style hall, with an endless gold roof and grand décor comparable to the pictures you’d see of Venice and the venues they hold masquerade balls.
I went to both Venice and Rome a few years back, so I know my imagination hasn’t gone wild.
There are multiple levels and balconies. I see bars circle the dance floor. Pillars and platforms and Arabian type cubicles with sheer curtains beautifully intertwined along the outskirts of each floor.
Wow, it’s all so beautiful and classy.
I’d love to look around but I’m not here for exploring.
I continue down the corridor and find the office. The door is made of polished oak and has a sheen that glistens against the overhead lights.
I knock on the door and a deep baritone voice calls out, “come in.”
It’s the kind of voice that seeps into you and commands respect. Instantly I wonder what the owner of the voice looks like.
The boss. Is he a mob boss? Or, is he just the boss as in the manager of the place?
I don’t know but I’m about to find out.
I push the door open and go to smile by default, except the smile doesn’t come.
It’s caught mid-expression as my brain turns to soup when my eyes land on the most attractive man I’ve ever seen in my life.
His eyes get me first. They get me and paralyze me with a wave of desire I can’t deny.
They’re an ice blue, almost silver and glacier-like. So light they have an otherworldly appearance in the subtle light that drifts through the window. He stares back at me with intense curiosity. It heats my body up, everywhere.
He’s standing by the long French window, tall, tall at what I guess is over six feet. I’m five four and from way over here he seems to tower over me in height and presence.
He’s well-built with muscles outlining powerful looking shoulders and the white button-up shirt he wears only accentuates his hard body. It’s the kind of body you’d see in a wild sexual fantasy.
His face, all angles and planes, tilts to the side as he regards me and a lock of his dark hair falls over his eye, making him look more alluring if that was possible.
Attractive, gorgeous, handsome… all feel like they’re lacking in description for the way I would describe this man, but they’re all the words that come to my mind.
The door taps against the wall as it connects and the slight sound registers in my brain, and -shit! - I’m staring. I realize I’m just staring at him like some kind of freak. Great first impression Mia.
Great first impression. I’m here for an interview and the job is one I desperately need so staring and fucking things up is not what I need to do now.
Quickly, I gather myself, even though I can’t quite get my brain to follow suit. It refuses to tell my eyes to stop staring.
“Good morning…” I chime, then I remember morning went a couple of hours ago. “I mean good afternoon,” I correct quickly and blink to focus.
