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I sink into the table in bliss. Is this really what Other Jennifer Walker’s life is like? Getting whisked off for luxury spa treatments by hot men just begging her to come work for their swanky company?
I knew our lives were light-years apart, but this is a whole other galaxy. My last interview involved me walking into a room of blank stares in a crummy office building in midtown, and then politely explaining I had not, in fact, come to take their lunch orders. But this?
This is heaven.
A temporary heaven, I remind myself, through the haze of aromatherapy oils. Because as much as I wish I could seamlessly step into Other Jennifer’s stylish three-inch heels, I doubt I’m qualified to head up the entire marketing team for a hot new company, just a few weeks out from launch.
But how do I gracefully tell Austin that humiliating fact?
I can’t.
By the time my massage—and soothing scalp massage—is finished, I’ve decided to take the coward’s way out, and not explain the whole embarrassing mix-up at all. There’s really no need. I’ll just go along with the rest of this unconventional interview, and if Austin doesn’t realize I’m woefully ill-equipped for the job himself, I’ll simply let the recruiter know it wasn’t the right fit and turn his offer down.
Simple.
So, after a quick shower, I dress, and meet Austin back in the lobby—still feeling blissed out from my treatment.
“Well?” he asks, greeting me, and I have to stifle another blissful sigh. His low voice is honestly like a spa treatment all on its own. Just put me in a sensory deprivation tank, except for him saying my name. I blush at the thought, jolting back into reality.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “Jenn’s not available right now. She’s floating on a cloud.”
“Glad to hear it,” he laughs. We head toward the exit and, once out the door, Austin continues. “Okay. Tell me your thoughts. What parts did you love? Anything missing?”
I try my best to be useful, since I’m taking up his time here. “Well…” I think hard, to anything I noticed besides the utter relaxation. “I saw a woman in the locker room taking a picture of the robe. If you haven’t already finalized your orders, I’d make sure the Vital robe is distinctive or has your logo on it. Same with the spa sandals, those kinds of pictures are all over social media. That way, when someone posts a photo, they’re doing the promotional work for you.”
Austin smiles at me like I’m a genius, instead of someone who just made a basic recommendation. “Let me take you to lunch,” he says.
I really shouldn’t. The words are in my mouth—I swear they are. But instead, I blurt out, “Sure. Lunch.”
His car takesus to a nondescript building, where we ride the elevator to the top floor. In close proximity, I can smell the massage oils on him—something woodsier than my own lavender. My pulse kicks. The elevator is dark and private, and it’s impossible not to think about how little space we’d have to cross to touch.
To kiss…
What is it about this man’s mouth? I wonder, trying my best not to stare. I’ve never noticed another man’s lips, but somehow, I can’t look away from his smooth, full pout—
“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Austin asks.
“Why?” I ask.
“Well…” The elevator doors open, onto the rooftop level. But instead of a fancy lunch spot terrace like I’m expecting…
There’s a helicopter waiting.
I blink. We’re on a roof with a helicopter pad. It’s just sitting there, framed by the skyscrapers, as if this is totally normal, and not seriousThomas Crown Affairshenanigans.
“Didn’t I mention? Lunch is in the Hamptons,” Austin clarifies, obviously delighted to have shocked me.
“Must have slipped your mind,” I reply faintly.
He grins. “Have you ever been in a chopper?”
“This may surprise you,” I say, wryly, “but no.”
He smirks, like a little kid. “You up for it?”
This day is just getting crazier, but there’s no way in hell I’m saying ‘no’. Tomorrow I’ll go back to sensible job-searching and meal-prepping, but today?
I’m going to live like Other Jennifer Walker. And enjoy every minute of it.
