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It’s been a hectic day at the dealership but we’re finally close to closing time. I start packing up some of my things and realize what a shit-show my office has become. Nothing is organized and there are papers all over the place. It’s only been about a year since I’ve been sole owner of the dealership and I didn’t realize how much added work came with the promotion. When I was the office manager and assistant for my dad, everything felt so much easier to keep up with. But since going almost a year without an assistant of my own, things are getting out of hand.
I pull out manilla folders, planning to stay late to take care of some organization, when there’s a knock at my door.
“Come in,” I shout.
Cora enters the room and shuts the door behind her. She does this a lot. Cora doesn't take no for an answer, but I’ve also made it noticeably clear that I want nothing from her. I don’t date coworkers. But her response is always, “We don’t have to date, we can just fuck.” And my response is always, “I don’t fuck coworkers, either.”
“Someone is here for you,” she says as she holds her hands behind her back.
“Who?” I ask, not looking up from my papers.
“I don’t know, but I think it’s that girl from earlier. The one who ran out of here like a manic dog. She said she wants to speak to the hiring manager.” She smacks a piece of gum between her teeth as she pulls a strand of hair between her fingers and twirls it.
“Why did you close the door to tell me that?” I shuffle more papers out of the way in an attempt to clear my desk, but there are So. Many. Papers.
After I took over the dealership, it’s been a nonstop whirlwind of paperwork and a very sad excuse of a system to manage it all. I’m still trying to figure that part out.
“We’re both adults, Callan. I think we both know why I closed that door. Wouldn’t it be hot to get a little frisky while someone is outside that door, possibly listening to the noises you can get out of me?” She attempts to entice me as she leans against my desk, exposing the top of her cleavage.
“Cora, please exit my office and invite my guest in. And button up your shirt. Goodbye now.” I wave her off and while she looks disappointed, she doesn’t argue. Before I know it, the blue-eyed beauty from earlier is standing at my door frame.
“How can I help you?” I ask. I’ve stopped fucking around with the papers by now and stand up from my chair, feeling the need to provide her with all my attention.
She seems different this time. Not so panicked and lost but still slightly reserved. She shifts at the doorway, and I get a good look at her whole body from a new angle. From her heart-shaped face and her slightly rounded chin to her soft pink lips that puff out in the slightest. Or how she stands only about five-foot-six to my six-two. How her lashes are the darkest part of her and her hair shines golden in contrast against her pale-colored skin. And the fucking perfection behind her straight smile, bright whites biting down on her lip out of nervousness.
Let me tell you, I’m fuckingmesmerizedby the look of this girl.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier.” Her tone is timid and soft.
“You don’t have to apologize,” I tell her. “But I do wonder if I did anything wrong. You ran out of here pretty fast.” She walks into the room a little further and I can tell she’s thinking about shutting the door, but she doesn’t.
“I just panicked is all. I’m not sure why. I’ve just, I’ve got a lot going on.” The way she’s holding her elbows tells me how nervous she is, and something in me softens when I see her close her eyes in disdain.
“What’s your name?” I ask, wanting to change the topic.
A strand of hair falls into her eyes, and she tries to swipe it away, but it falls right back into place. It’s kind of cute how annoyed she gets.
“Sterling,” she nearly whispers.
“Sterling,” I repeat, the name rolling off my tongue like ice. I get up from my desk and meet her where she’s standing, reaching my hand out for a handshake. “Hi, Sterling. I’m Callan David.”
Silence falls over the space between us for a few moments, then she finally decides to give me her hand and her palm is soft against mine as I squeeze it lightly in a gesture of greeting. I find myself studying her while she looks apprehensively back to the ground and pulling her hand away.
“Anyways, I just wanted to say sorry. I won’t be needing that car after all so I should probably get going.” She chucks her thumb over her shoulder waiting for my approval.
“Wait, Cora said you might be interested in a job?” I query, stepping back to lean against my desk.
“What?” She looks at me innocently as she pulls both of her palms to her cheeks holding her face in her hands and I immediately think how her skin would feel against my hands. How her skindidfeel against mine, just moments before when we shared a handshake.
“Oh, yeah,” she says before pursing her lips. “I actually got fired from my job today.” She drops her hands to her side. “On my way out earlier, I noticed the hiring sign. I guess I just wanted to see if I could apply.”
She seems sweet enough, but I know just by looking at her that she’s probably not interested in the janitorial position that we’re hiring for. And I wonder what kind of backlash I’d get if I even interviewed someone who wasn’t remotely qualified for a different position, just because I liked looking at them.
Then I look behind me and see the mess on my desk.
So.
Many.
