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But then I did.
I had to travel to San Francisco for the second interview. I got a proper outfit for this meeting, borrowed money to fix my hair and actually put on some make up. The mascara made my eyes itchy and I had to stop myself from rubbing my eyes constantly. I knew I came across as nervous and twitchy, hardly the look you want to project when you’re going after a job in Silicon Valley. By this time, I knew I wanted the job, if only because I would be able to work in Palo Alto. Something about the sun and the beach had changed my attitude. I liked the idea of getting ice cream after work, dipping my toes in the ocean.
Then, they kept me waiting for over an hour.
Finally, the head of HR called me in and informed me, very matter-of-factly, that I had gotten the job.
I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t even met the CEO yet.
“He saw the recorded interview,” said Jill Shapiro, the head of HR.
“He did?”
“He picked you,” she said and got up. I had barely sat down.
“Can you start Monday, eight o’clock?”
Sure thing.
Except, nothing was sure about that job, from the word go.
Like, on Monday morning, when I reported for work and Mr. Sagarro didn’t show. After a few hours, when I’d mastered the computer and the daily diary, which really wasn’t that difficult, he still wasn’t in the office. I phoned Jill and she told me in a very exasperated tone of voice, to get hold of him.
“This is your job now. He has Tamara at three. It’s important, you tell him that. Find him,” she said curtly.
“How?” I asked, realizing too late that she had already hung up the phone. I basically walked through the building, asking everyone I could find where I might get hold of Mr. Sagarro. In the end, it was the security guard, Mitch, who took pity on me.
“He’s probably out surfing,” he told me. “Waves have been awesome this week.”
“Where?” I asked and he told me the name of the boss’s favorite beach.
“Take the company car,” Mitch said. “Can you drive?”
It took me over half an hour to get out of the city, following the instructions on my GPS. Then I drove around looking for the Jeep Mitch had mentioned, no mean feat, considering there were multiple access points to various beaches but finally, I found it.
Then, there was nothing else to do, but wait.
About an hour later, I saw a tall man coming across the sand and heading for the Jeep. He was wearing a wet suit, rolled halfway down his body, a surfboard tucked under his arm. His chest was strong, muscular, covered with thick blond hair. I got out of the car, went up to him.
“Mr. Sagarro?”
His eyes narrowed as he turned to face me, looking down at my shoes, high heels, which were sinking into the sand.
“Who’re you?” he asked, his voice deep and melodic.
“Your new PA? Evie Gerick?” I stuck out my hand and he didn’t even glance at it. Instead he opened his car door, reached for a towel and started drying himself off.
“Miss Shapiro asked me to find you, you have an urgent meeting at three?”
“She’s married. Not a miss,” he growled.
Then he drank some water and started to take off his wet suit, then whipping off his board shorts underneath.
I didn’t know where to look.
The man was naked!
Completely naked!
