Page 19 of Spark of Obsession


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I make a silent oh, trying to figure out what exactly is being done to gain insight on whether or not I am the right fit for the job. For such an exclusive entertainment business, surely I would be asked something of importance.

“I can tell you are nervous, and I don’t want to rush you into signing anything today.” Dominic rubs his hands together before placing his right one under his chin and rests his head into the palm. “I know this is breaking company code, but with you I need to be a little risky.” Leaning over his desk, he hands me a folder. “How about you take the contract home with you and read over it tonight. We can reschedule your appointment for some time next week if that suits you.”

“Yeah, er…yes. Thank you.” I slouch a bit and then get up from the chair, tucking the folder and my purse under my arm.

“Miss McFee?”

“Hmm?”

“Can you just please keep that file in a safe spot? Although this organization is completely legal, we use discretion in regard to our high rollers. As you probably could already tell, there is a referral-only invite for girls. Keep everything that you know private, otherwise you will be in violation of the NDA you already signed.”

“Will do,” I say eagerly and walk quickly toward the door I arrived in. “Thank you,” I call back politely over my shoulder.

I make my way down the hall and into the big office space where I see Claire lounging on a plush white sofa. As I shorten the distance between us, I can see she is not alone. Mystery Man is there—sitting adjacent to her on a matching armchair. His body posture tells me that he is tense. Both of his hands are on his thighs, shoulders elevated. Neither notice that I am now a few yards away from them.

He looks so different compared to the night at the mixer. There he looked tired, yet relaxed. Carefree. Now he looks angry. Standoffish. He could be bipolar.

“Again, none of your business,” Claire snarls. “You’re making a big deal out of this for no reason. And it’s not about the money!” I rarely have witnessed her being this upset. The last time was when there was a recall on organic spinach, due to an e-coli outbreak. I cringe remembering that incident a few months ago, during the heat of summer. No one pisses with Claire’s health food. Not even the whole farm industry. And definitely not the FDA.

“Oh, I think it is my business.” The iciness to his voice sends chills up my spine. He rises out of his chair and creates the blanketing tower effect, prepared to not back down.

What is his problem?

I do not know whether to hide behind the spider plants or walk the other way. I strive not to put myself in confrontational situations. Kind of a life goal I have.

“Oh, love, there you are.” Claire’s eyes warm. Mystery Man pivots and stares at me blankly.

There’s something very compelling—besides his piss-pot attitude—about him.

“Do I know you?” I ask sarcastically.

“Excuse me?” he asks coldly. His eyes trail down my uncovered legs. Instantly, I feel vulnerable. Exposed. I hate men who make me feel this way. He is basically checking all of the boxes of someone I do not want to be around.

His hair is longer than I remember. His attitude is more aggressive. He is definitely not the playful gum thief that I remember from just forty-eight hours ago.

“Sorry,” I cough. “I just feel like I know you.”

“Few people do,” he answers impassively.

Claire’s eyes dart back and forth between us. “Wait, you know each other?”

I answer “yes?” as he answers “no.”

He gives a smile that skims the surface. Is he playing games with me?

I rock on my heels, feeling powerfully shy all of a sudden. “I’m ready to go home,” I state quietly, sparing a glance at Tall-Dark-and-Dangerous. He graces me with another once-over, lingering this time on my lips. His eyes change ever so slightly, but I can’t figure out if it is a good or bad thing. I shift my weight and lean into my hip, trying to get a read on this enigma of a man. His pained expression pulls at my resolve, plucking away the one ounce of confidence I mustered up specifically for this interview. Funny thing is, I didn’t need any of it for the actual meeting to join the agency. Instead, I stand here before a piercing set of blue eyes, wanting to crumple to the floor in a heap.

“What about the profile?” Claire asks, concern and a hint of alarm present in her voice.

From the corner of my eye, I see a faint smile pull at his lips. Does he think I am not good enough for the database of girls? How dare he! He probably thinks I just got rejected!

“Not today.” I flash the file folder to her. “I can make my mind up this week. Let’s go,” I push.

“That’s against protocol,” he mumbles under his breath as he saunters back toward Dominic’s office, leaving us both without another word. The slam of the door resonates in the waiting area, causing chills to run down my spine.

“Um, what was that?”

“I have no idea,” she responds, holding her hands over her head in confusion. “His reputation is apparently spot-on. Who knew?”

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