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“Don’t remind me.” I shudder. “Now, let me go and chat with HR and see how the new search is going because if they bring in any more duds for me to talk to, they’ll have to look for new jobs for themselves as well.”
“Play nice, Jackson.”
“Don’t I always?” I wink as I open the door and walk into the reception area. “Hello, Edith.” I politely nod at Ethan’s assistant, who beams at me. “Just headed to a meeting,” I rush out as I keep walking. The last thing I want to hear about is her grandkids. The less I hear about happy families or kids, the better.
“Yes, Mr. Pruitt. Have a good afternoon.”
“Thank you, Edith.” I smile warmly at her and head to the elevator. My mind wanders back to the previous night and the elevator ride at The Plaza. That had been hot. For a second, I think about getting in touch with one of my contacts at the New York Times to find out more information about Zara. Then I change my mind. I don’t want to go down that rabbit hole. I’ve already lost my trust in her. Just because the sex had been amazing doesn’t mean I want to see her again.
I get off on the fifteenth floor and head to the HR office. I can hear loud music playing, and it sounds like some of the staff are dancing and singing. So, they’re really making my new assistant a priority, then. I am going to let them have it.
“Hello, is anyone around or have I just entered the Rosser International club?” I call out sarcastically.
“Oh shit,” I hear a shocked murmur and some scuffling, and the music stops. I stand there as muffled whispers go back and forth until finally Kim steps out, her face bright red as she looks at me.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Pruitt, we were just, um, going through some files.”
“Sure you were.” I tap my foot impatiently against the ground. “How many interviews do you have lined up for me in the next few days?”
“Well,” she runs her fingers through her short blond hair and clears her throat, “I need to check with my associate.” She clears her throat. “Mila, can you come out here, please. Mr. Pruitt has some questions.” I hear a box falling, and then Mila steps into the room. She stares at me blankly as if she doesn’t know who I am. Her short black hair is in tight curls, highlighting her cheekbones. She tilts her head up at me, her dark eyes meeting mine innocently.
“Sorry, what did you say, Kim? I was just filing some?—”
“How many interviews do you have lined up for me?” I ask her directly and wait for a response. Mila nods in response but doesn’t say anything. She looks over at Kim, who also nods dumbly. “There are no interviews lined up?”
“Well, you do have very stringent requirements, Mr. Pruitt.” Mila doesn’t sound so confident now. “We’re trying to locate the best candidates.”
“I want five interviews tomorrow. Starting at nine a.m. With amazing candidates.”
“But it’s eleven a.m. now?” She sounds nervous. “We?—”
“I don’t care what you have to do, but if I don’t have five interviews lined up tomorrow morning, you’re both fired.”
“But you can’t just—” Mila stops as I issue her a long, dark smile.
“Take it up with HR if you have a problem.” I run my fingers through my hair and give them both a nod. “Nine a.m. on the dot.” I give them both a curt nod and head back to the elevator so I can return to my office. My phone beeps and I sigh as I look down and see that it’s my dad again. I don’t want to talk to him, but I can’t put it off anymore. I answer it and take a deep breath.
“Hey, Dad,” I say, trying to keep the venom from my voice.
“Jackson.” He sounds relieved that I’ve answered. “I’m so glad you’re free. I’ve been trying to call.”
“I know. I’ve been busy.” I look at my watch and sigh. “In fact, I have a conference call in ten minutes, so we’re going to have to make this quick.”
“I get it.” His voice is soft, and I freeze my movements. I’ve never heard him sound like this before. Worry fills me. Maybe he really is dying. Maybe Grandma didn't want to worry me.
“Is everything okay?” I ask abruptly. If he’s sick, I need to know.
“I’m okay, but I do need to talk to you. See you in person. Lunch tomorrow?”
“I have interviews all day tomorrow.”
“The next day?”
“Fine,” I agree reluctantly. “Choose a place. Let me know where, and I’ll meet you there. Oh, and Dad.”
“Yes, son?”
“Please don’t bring any women to set me up with.”
