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I hung up just as the security guard greeted me, practically singing, “Good morning, can I help you?”
I halted in front of her desk and handed her my ID, smiling. “Good morning. My name is Drake Madden. I’m here for an interview with Hooked.”
She scanned the ID into her computer and reached for the phone. “Drake Madden is here for her interview.” She hung up and returned my ID to me. “Ellen, the receptionist, is on her way down to get you.”
I thanked her and moved to the side of the desk, waiting less than a minute before the elevator chimed, the woman who stepped out making her way over to me. “Drake?”
I nodded, still grinning. “Yes, hi, that’s me.”
She stuck out her fragile hand. “I’m Ellen, it’s nice to meet you. You’re here for the director of app development and engineering position, yes?”
“It’s really nice to meet you, too, Ellen. And, yes, I am.”
“Wonderful, please follow me.” She brought me over to the elevator, joining me inside. “Hooked now occupies the top three floors of this building.” She hit the button for the thirty-third floor. “We’re about to take over our fourth floor.”
“Wow. Sounds like things have come a long way. That’s amazing.”
The door to the elevator shut, and with it came a draft of cold air.
She buttoned the top of her cardigan and rubbed her arms. “Will it ever be summer? Jeez.” The thick grooves around her mouth deepened when she smiled.
“I hate the cold too. I don’t know how I’m not living in Florida right now.”
“That makes two of us, darling.” She winked. “Anyway, I joined the company when it was only five months old, and I’ve been here ever since. I keep saying I’m going to retire, I’m just too old to be doing this, but the boys won’t let me.”
I could see why. She was lovely, and motherly in every way.
My hand clutched the strap of my bag, the leather turning slick from my sweaty palm. “I don’t blame them one bit.”
“Thank you.” The elevator buzzed upon our arrival. “Please come with me.”
She took me through several open workspaces, where there were standing desks and beanbag lounges and employees’ dogs snoozing on fluffy beds—very reminiscent of my current office. The difference was the large panes of glass that showed the city’s stunning skyline.
When we finally settled in the conference room, she asked, “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Flavored seltzer? A latte, perhaps?”
“No, thank you, I’m fine.”
She swept the air with the back of her palm. “All right, then. Make yourself all comfy and the partners will be in shortly.”
I was suddenly alone in this oversize space, wishing it made me feel tiny.
But it did just the opposite.
I took a seat along the side of the oval table and continued to shift around until I found a comfortable-enough spot. My hair was the first thing I attacked, the top needing to be flattened from the hint of humidity that had caused it to rise. I then moved on to my jacket, pulling at the bottom to make sure it was low enough but loose around my stomach. I circled my lips, checking for excess gloss, along with the corners of my eyes to wipe away any leaked liner.
Am I ready?
Ready as I could be.
But I was still alone, so I tried to busy myself by looking at the wall decor—framed articles from theBoston Globe,Forbes, andWIRED, photographs of the partners shaking hands with celebrities and famous CEOs.
They didn’t just have an impressive office; these guys were the real deal, with quite the reputation in the tech arena. According to my research, they had launched the app during their last year of grad school, the articles emphasizing that they were exactly the demographic they were looking for in a user.
To me, that equaled single and horny.
Multiple sources had even reported that Easton Jones, the CEO, had developed the app to make his dating life easier and less time-consuming. They called him a genius, innovative. Some even said legendary.
I’d say the ultimate bachelor had certainly struck gold.
