Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 207(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
I opened my eyes and cleared my throat, clenching my thighs together, because despite how shitty I felt, arousal started to move through me.
I didn’t know how long I sat there, staring out the window, my hands clammy, the worry that I’d screw this interview up and wouldn’t get the job riding me hard.
I looked at the cityscape, the towering building, the traffic in the distance. This office was high enough up I couldn’t see directly below us, and I thought about the crowds, the smell of food vendors and exhaust as I tried to keep my mind off other things, things that weren’t about screwing this interview up, or thoughts of Pope.
“Miss Morris?”
On my right, the woman who greeted me upon my arrival was now standing on the other side of the desk, a file in hand. “Mr. Shelby will see you now.”
Here we go.
I stood and followed her, walking through the double glass doors once she opened them for me and trailing behind as she led me down a long, ornate hallway. The cubicles didn’t even look like real cubicles. They were sleek and stylish, resembling little offices in their own right. I supposed that’s what a cubicle was, but they just seemed so modern, as if each person in those little cubicles was just as important as the CEO.
At least that’s how it looked on the outside, the vibe I got from the whole setup. Maybe it was all for show though. Maybe it was the cherry on top of the perfect sundae that probably tasted like ass.
Because if things looked too good, didn’t that meant they probably were?
She stopped suddenly, and my mind had been so wrapped up in everything else that I almost ran into her. We now stood in front of two dark wooden doors, with a gleaming silver metal plaque at eye-level.
P. Shelby, CFO
Chief Financial Officer
I knitted my brows as a memory tried to surface. Why did that title sound so familiar?
My heart was racing, my worry so strong I started to gently bite on my bottom lip.
Everything inside me was tightening uncomfortably. I was worried I was going to screw this up, but I’d soon find out if this was the end, after my interviewer found out I’d been fired from my last position.
The woman leading me knocked twice on the door, and I heard a muffled deep voice from the other side tell us we could enter. She pushed open one of the double doors and stepped inside. I stayed behind her, wondering if she could hear my heart racing. It sure as hell felt like the whole world could hear.
“Mr. Shelby, I have your two o’clock interview ready.”
“Thank you, Grace. That’ll be all.”
I knitted my brows as I heard that deep voice. My head was pounding especially hard now, my migraine growing by the second. But that voice pierced through the fog.
I knew that voice.
Grace stepped aside, and I stared at the man who stood across the room, his back to us as he stared out the massive windows. His shoulders were broad, the suit he wore not hiding the raw power underneath.
And then he turned around, and I gasped... literally gasped… as Pope stood there staring at me. Although, I think I knew it would be him by all the little breadcrumbs that had been left.
He had his hands in the front pockets of his slacks, the cityscape behind him a backdrop that made him seem even more powerful, as if he commanded the whole world.
I hadn’t realized Grace had left until I heard the door shut behind us.
For long seconds, neither of us said anything. Here I was, in front of the man I’d left standing in his kitchen, all but running out of his house because I was humiliated and couldn’t even remember if we’d slept together.
And he was going to be giving me the interview. He could very well be my next boss. If I was that lucky, that is.
I felt stiff as a board, sweat beading my brow. I didn’t know what to say or do, didn’t even want to move, because I was sure I’d trip over my own feet.
“Hi,” he finally said.
I licked my lips and tried to smile, but I felt so awkward right now.
“Want to take a seat?” He gestured toward the chair in front of his desk.
I found myself moving toward it, not even realizing my feet were taking me there until I was sitting down. I watched as Pope took the seat across from me, the width of his desk making it seem like he was so far away.
More silence passed between us, and I found myself twisting my fingers together in my lap. “You knew about this the whole time? That I was coming in for the interview?” My voice was strained. I was trying not to act as embarrassed as I felt.