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“I handpick every person who works for me, Ms. Castro,”
she explained, her tone steady and unreadable.
In an instant, Charlotte recognized she had to shift gears.
This woman, powerful and strong, wasn’t going to respond to a wimp or an ass-kisser.
Cocking her head to the side, Charlotte ran some quick calculations. “Based on the services your business o ers, that’s easily twenty employees between the skin care, body treatments, massages, and sundry spa and fitness o erings.
Not to mention the dozen private guest rooms. Do you personally hire custodial sta as well?” Charlotte leaned forward. “What’s your management theory?”
Alexandra’s dark eyes glinted with what Charlotte hoped was intrigue, but she’d settle for amusement. Anything to make her memorable.
“I’m pretty sure I’m the one that’s supposed to be asking the questions.” Her throat bobbed as if she’d swallowed a chuckle, but her face remained stoic.
Charlotte’s coiled core muscles loosened as she gained conviction in her new approach.
“Do you really care about my strategy or are you trying to stand out from the pack?” Alexandra’s body was relaxed, but her eyes were shrewd and searching.
“I don’t need to feign interest in something to stand out,” she decided, her confidence gathering in earnest. “I just graduated at the top of my class and have the work ethic of someone who has never been handed a thing in her life.”
She left out the fact that she had no family to catch her if she fell on hard times. That she couldn’t a ord to give less than her best.
The way Alexandra’s sculpted eyebrow twitched made Charlotte realize what she’d said. Alexandra might have gotten more than one leg-up in life. Charlotte considered clarifying that she didn
’t mean any o ense to those who had help but stood firm instead. After all, she’d spoken her truth.
“And how does that benefit me?” Alexandra asked, dark gaze never leaving her. Always studying. Hunting.
“It means I’ll always be the first one in and the last one out. As you can see from my resume, I’m loyal. The only
reason I’m even looking for a job is because my boss is retiring and closing shop. I’ve been with him for over a decade.” Blood pulsed through her body as she gained momentum. “If you notice, that’s before I even put myself through college.”
In the stillness of the momentary silence, they looked at each other, neither willing to be the first to yield. Alexandra didn’t have her resumé in front of her. Charlotte was confident she’d break first. She just had to wait her out.
“But it did take you six years to get a four-year degree,”
Alexandra replied without hesitation.
Damn . She memorized her resume. “I held down two jobs and took evening classes,” she replied proudly. “It takes a little longer that way.”
This time the corner of Alexandra’s lip moved as if pulled by invisible string. It lasted a fraction of a second, but it sent Charlotte’s heart racing.
“I can tell you’re hungry.” Her gaze lingered on Charlotte’s lips when she said hungry , pronouncing the h hard, making it sound primal. “Full of ambition.” Alexandra tipped back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap. The way she oozed power was intoxicating. “Why come here? I’m sure there are several accounting firms that would be eager to acquire a young talent like yours. You realize your room for growth here is limited.”
It was the natural question she’d prepared for, but the way she posed it sounded like a dare. Or a challenge. It was most certainly a weapon of some kind.
Charlotte resisted the urge to clear her throat or shift her weight. Instead, she maintained eye contact and delivered
the lines as practiced. “I have no interest in fading into a sea of black suits crunching numbers. There is something special about working for a single client directly. Their goals become yours in a very real way. What counts as growth is relative. If Ataraxia grows,” she gestured toward the door, “that’s enough for me.”
“I’ve never heard anyone be so passionate about an accounting job,” Alexandra remarked, flashing a momentary smirk.
Shit . She’d laid it on too thick, but she could still stick the landing. Charlotte relaxed into her chair. “Without passion, what else is there?”
The tip of Alexandra’s tongue peeked out between her full lips as she moistened them. “Fair enough.”
Twenty minutes later, Charlotte was striding out of the building toward her beat-up little Honda. The late spring afternoon was hot and humid as dark clouds gathered overhead, threatening heavy rain for the rush hour commute home. Charlotte made it to her car just as the heavy drops fell in fat streaks down her windshield.
