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My eyes bulge when I see the name at the top of the résumé:Taryn Andrews. After a short blurb about herself and her education, she lists only two previous employers: Mills & Graves law firm, which she just left, it looks like, a week ago, and Barnes & Noble bookstore, where I know she was working while going to college.
I steel my expression to neutral and look over at Briana, who’s quirking a questioning eyebrow at me above the rim of her stylish dark-rimmed glasses. She looks like her dark-brown hair might pop out of that tight bun if she makes any sort of facial expression.
I clear my throat. “Thanks for this. I’ll look it over and get back with you if I think she’ll be a good fit.”
She glances at me again, dips her head in acknowledgment, and leaves my office with a quiet click of the door.
Why on earth would Taryn quit her job right after her mother’s death? Perhaps they laid her off? It says to call about the conditions surrounding her separation from the law firm. Why wouldn’t she just state she was laid off, though?
My gaze travels to the desk phone and my fingers twitch to call her. Instead, I pick up my cell phone and scroll through my contacts. I have her name and number still there, but the number on the résumé is different. I quickly replace it with this new number.
Thinking about Taryn working for me stirs something in my belly. Could I be around her all day?
I often think about the night we fucked and still feel like a tool. I tell myself we were both upset and just wanted comfort from each other. That we needed it. If I’d had any idea she was a virgin, I would have left without looking back. But then,shenever contacted me after. I mean... she had my number, the phone works both ways. After a week or so, I took it as a mutually exclusive decision that we both had gotten what we wanted that night—consoling each other after the tragedy of her brother’s sentencing—and left it at that.
I just didn’t expect five fucking years to go by with complete radio silence.
I think back to when Eric and I were teens. Taryn was always there. Demanding rides to the mall or movies to meet her friends, or wanting to hang out with us. Eric always scoffed at the idea, and I always pretended to take his side, but the truth was, I liked being in her presence, even if she was a mere annoying little sister figure, she was still cute as hell.
And once she graduated high school and went off to college, she had honestly taken my breath away. To have seen her grow up into such a gorgeous woman, well, my thoughts about her completely shifted. I was well out of college and on my way to building my business and my career by the time she graduated, but I never stopped thinking about her.
That night in her condo, it felt like a dream. Like I was someone else—she was someone else. A distant stranger, yet a familiar comfort.
How could I work with her? There’s no way I’m not still attracted to her. It took everything in me not to go to her at that funeral site on that cold day. I wanted to take her home and put her in my bed and do anything and everything to get her mind off her grief. But of course, I didn’t.
And seeing her in that restaurant last night had stirred those feelings right back to the surface.
Then another thought hits me—what if she doesn’t want to work here? What if she hates my guts and laughs at my offer?
My gaze moves to the screen as I read over the rest of her résumé. I suppose I should make sure she’s qualified before I consider it. Not that I really need to. Her degree—Bachelor’s in Information Technology—is all I really need to know. She’s young and moldable. Trainable. That is, if she’s lost that damned stubborn streak.
I suppose if she was let go from the law firm, it’s a blessing. I mean, how much experience could she have been getting from fixing broken operating systems and installing new software? You don’t even need a degree to do that.
No, she would be put to work here. She’d learn app development (that wasn’t on her résumé) and all kinds of other things. Jeff will be a great mentor, he’s the rock star of our IT department.
Though, something tells me I’ll be the one who’ll want to train her... up close and personal.
I take a deep breath, pick up the phone, and dial Taryn’s number.
Why am I so fucking nervous?
