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He walks from behind his desk and towards me. His elegant walk is distinct.
“These are of course different circumstances Miss Banner.”
Do you think I am fucking stupid?
“I understand Mr. Knight.”
He comes closer, and I can see the Elysian ‘E’ embroidered on olive-green his tie, and the dark blue suit that hugs him like a glove but hangs loose around his trim waist. The lips that smiled so joyously, are firm, still beautiful though. His every move is effortless. The elegance of this man knows no end. He puts one hand in his pocket as if trying to solve a puzzle, his handsome face going into a frown, wrinkles forming on his forehead, as his wavy hair stays perfectly in place.
“The night in Hawaii, that was a different world. You could say it was a …”
“Dream?” I ask. I am suddenly made brave by the anger I am feeling. Yes, I had expected him to want to be professional, but the speed with which he disregards that night betrays all the delicious memories I held in my silly little mind.
“You do understand that I am not that man here. As a CEO I expect you to not only work Miss Banner, but to succeed.”
“Which is all I want,” I say looking at him. This seems to make some kind of impression on him. He clenches his jaw. But gives his approval. “Good, I am glad we are on the same page then. Jessica really was excited about getting a third member of the team. She has great expectations from you.”
And what about you? Do you have anything other than the official nonsense?
“I’ll be sure to remember that Mr. Knight. Is there anything else you would like me to forget…I mean remember?”
Our eyes meet briefly, and I catch a flicker of recognition in his gaze. But it is fleeting, quickly replaced by a cold, indifferent expression. He is either very good at masking his feelings or he does not care. Either way, the sooner this meeting is over the better.
I try not to look at him. A part of me is not accepting who he is. I glance around to fill my eyes with anything but him. My eyes fall on the glass box in the corner of his office. In it resides majestically, the most expensive handbag in the world. That same handbag, for which we had lined up to take a selfie. The same handbag for which the highest bidder had paid a whopping three million.
“Ah the real one,” I say by instinct. “And a fake one outside in the reception area. Do you test all your employees like that Mr. Knight?”
How he had amused himself, by telling us half-truths. When we had asked him if he was security, he had said that he was there to make sure the bag went to its rightful owner. Ethan Knight was the highest bidder for the world’s most expensive handbag. He had his fun with us.
“Yes, that is the real one,” he says seriously. “I was impressed that you were able to tell them apart so quickly. You have a good feel for the handbag, recognizing the fake vs genuine.”
“Thank you,” and then I cannot resist. “Too bad I cannot do the same with men.”
His handsome face takes the punch of it. I can see his lips pursing into a cynical smile. “Yes, too bad.”
“Will that be all?” I ask. I want to be done with him. Having him looming over me, with all his gorgeousness is distressing.
“Please remain aware that your team is experimenting with sustainable, green materials for luxury handbags. I’ll be honest with you Miss Banner; the accounting department and our board thinks it’s simply not practical. They think it’s like a …”
“Like a dream, that will not come true?” I ask, looking into his molten blue eyes.
He takes a deep breath and suppresses the urge to say something spontaneous. I can see him controlling himself and bringing his back into a formal tilt.
So, this is the real you. Mr. Anonymous was just a vacation. You took a holiday from yourself. You rained hot wet kisses on my neck. You touched and lit my inner being on fire. And now, how quickly you leave that behind.
He is now in full-blown CEO mode. “I will be working closely with your team. Meeting you and your team members regularly. I hope that will in no way impede your progress…and the big question is, can you deliver?”
I straighten my back and summon the courage of the woman I am.
“This is an opportunity of a lifetime Mr. Knight. Nothing, or no one,” I stay looking straight into his eyes, “will slow me down. I am here to do my best.”
He does not like this tone.
I am glad. I don’t want him to like me. That’s where the problem began.
I will show him a side just as cold, just as capable of forgetting.
“I think we are done here.” His words fall like ice. Where is the playful, endearing, loving man who took my hand in Hawaii? Who played with words, uplifted me with compliments, made me feel like a queen in the sky?
