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However, thoughts of Hunter Finley had taken a backseat to the call that I’d gotten earlier this morning from Jersey Montague, the owner of The Tomes. The Tomes was a bookstore/study center. The place was designed to cater to broke students that needed books, computer use, computer help, or anything else academic. From what I’d read on the webpage when I’d applied, the place also had tutors that were available on Tuesdays and Thursdays for free. According to the bio on the webpage, Jersey Montague was a philanthropist, though that might not be the best word for her because I hadn’t been able to find anything else on her when I had looked her up. Apparently, The Tomes was her only baby, and she had family money that made it all happen.
Walking into the building, I had dressed in my best, excited about the callback. I’d begun losing hope of finding a decent job, so when Jersey had called me to set up an interview, I’d been over the moon with the opportunity. When she’d given me a short explanation of her expectations over the phone, it was my understanding that I’d be working the register and assisting people on the computers if needed. Now, while I wasn’t a computer guru, I knew enough not to look like an idiot.
When I approached the counter, I saw a very good-looking guy manning the register, and holy crap, there really was something inherently sexy about college guys. He had to be about six-foot or so, had dark brown hair, dark blue eyes, and a face that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover. If he was an internet model, he was probably a very successful one.
Smiling, he asked, “Can I help you?”
Smiling back, I answered, “I have an interview with Ms. Montague.”
He cringed. “Don’t let her hear you calling her that,” he advised. “She hates it.”
“Shut up,” came a voice that had me and Sexy-Cashier-Guy looking over.
Walking through an arched doorway just behind the second register was Jersey Montague herself. Since I was five-two, Jersey had to be about five-five, and she was five-foot-five-inches of pure artistic beauty. Though The Tomes’ website had a picture of her on it, the picture was of her pretty face only. With dark brown hair, light amber eyes, and a face that reminded me of a cartoon Belle from Beauty and the Beast, there was no denying that Jersey Montague was very pretty. However, she also had tattoos starting at her neck and covering almost her entire body.
Jersey Montague was a certified smoke show.
Sexy-Cashier-Guy said, “What? It’s the truth.”
Jersey grinned at him. “I’m trying tohireher, not scare her away, Cannon.”
Cannon shrugged. “Then you should let me do the interviews,” he quipped.
Jersey rolled her eyes. “Ignore him,” she said. “I just keep him around for his pretty face.”
I laughed when Cannon wrapped his arm around her waist, hauled her close, then nuzzled her neck. “You keep me around for a lot more than just my pretty face, babe.”
She pushed him off her as she shot me a grin. “You’ll have to forgive him,” she said cheekily. “No matter how many times I review the sexual harassment policies with him, he just doesn’t get it.”
Cannon winked at her. “Do you blame me?”
Ignoring him, she said, “Let’s go to the back and talk, Ms. Grant.”
“Alex, please,” I insisted. “Or Alexandria.”
“I like Alex,” she announced, and I just grinned as I followed her towards the back, giving Cannon a small wave.
Once we walked into her office and sat down, she said, “Sorry about that. I really am working on his professionalism.”
I smiled. “I think it’s sweet that he can’t keep his hands off you.”
“It is until someone gets offended and wants to sue me for traumatizing them,” she snorted, and sadly, she wasn’t wrong. “At the end of the day, we’re still a business, and I have a reputation for having deep pockets.”
“Well, for the record, I think it’s sweet, and if Cannon wants to love on you while I’m here, I have no objections.” I wrinkled my nose when a thought occurred to me. “Just…as long as you’re both clothed.”
Jersey laughed. “I like you, Alexandria Grant.”
“Hopefully, you like me enough to hire me,” I joked, but not really.
Jersey leaned back in her chair, regarding me carefully. “Actually, I think I do.”
I sat up straighter. “Nevertheless, I’d feel better if you gave me a proper interview, so that I feel like I actuallyearnedthis job.”
The pretty girl smiled. “Now Iknowthat I like you.”
I eyed her. “You’re not hitting on me, are you?”
“And if I was?” she teased.
