“Yes,” he replies, and it sounds hungry, like a lion growling before the kill.
Sitting here in my dumbfounded silence, I implore my brain to manifest a coherent thought outside…oh that felt nice. Finally, it settles on a question.
“And this kneeling job…is something your company hires girls for?”
“Yes, we do.”
“And you thought I was one of those girls.”
“Correct.”
“Is that the job you’re offering me now?”
“That would be highly inappropriate, considering your relationship with my son.”
“Past relationship,” I add because all of this sounds insane, it really does, but I’m not so sure I want him to exclude me from it all just yet. My curiosity has gotten the better of me.
“Still.”
“You’re not hiring me as one of your kneeling girls because of Beau…”
“No, Charlotte. I’m not hiring you as one of my kneeling girls because I need a secretary, and you seem like you need the money.”
“That felt like an insult,” I reply, and he laughs again.
“So you don’t need the money?”
“Very funny. You know I do. But why would you hire me to be your secretary? You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you lived with my son, now you don’t. He won’t talk to me, so let me help you instead. The job isn’t much. Help out around my office, bring me coffee and lunch. That sort of thing.” He glances around the rink. “And I’m assuming the pay will be better. With benefits.”
There’s really not much to think about, is there? He’s offering me a real job with undoubtedly better pay. And I’m not going to lie, this company intrigues me. It sounds a lot more exciting than being a secretary for a banker or realtor.
“You can take some time to think about it,” he adds.
My head tilts and my lips press into a thin line as if to say, don’t be ridiculous. If he thinks I really need to think about it, he’s crazy or just being condescending. As he moves to stand, I think of an important question that’s just a little uncomfortable to ask, but I have to.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing his arm. “Random question, but is your company Sal…vatious…club whatever—”
“Salacious Players’ Club.”
“Yeah,” I nod, swallowing down my nerves. “Is it inclusive?”
He settles back into his seat. “Inclusive?”
“Yeah, LGBTQ-friendly?”
His brow furrows and a sly smile lifts one side of his mouth. “Very. Why do you ask?”
“It’s important to me,” I reply, shutting down the conversation there. I’m sure he’s now wondering if I’m secretly a member of the community, and if so, how, but I don’t expand. He doesn’t need to know that I’m the world’s most fiercest ally because I have the world’s cutest little cub to protect.
“Then in that case,” I add as I stand up and put out my hand…which I realize now is awkward and pretty much uncalled for. That crooked smile stays on his face as he eyes my outstretched arm and follows suit, standing up and taking my hand in his. His bear claw dwarfs my little hand as he shakes it. But it’s warm, and his grip is firm enough to send butterflies down my spine.
“I assume this means you’ll take the job,” he replies.
As we stand here, shaking hands in a roller rink, I wonder who has signed up for the weirder position here. Does Emerson Grant know what he has committed to with me? Surely by now he’s picked up on the fact that I’m not some girly-girl chick, soft-spoken and appropriate, and I’m not going to behave like a regular secretary, Mad Men style.
But at the same time, I’m signing up to work at a company that deals in freaky kinks and shit. I’m pretty sure neither of us are cut out for normal.
RULE #6: AVOID MALLS FOR THE RISK OF RUNNING INTO YOUR EX WHILE HOLDING BAGS OF LINGERIE YOU FANTASIZE WEARING FOR HIS DAD.
Charlie
“Nine a.m., tomorrow” he says, all back to business. It’s interesting, watching him change from serious to casual and back again. He seems like a man who hides himself behind a suit and his desk. It makes me wonder if he ever lets loose and relaxes. Does he crack jokes, watch trashy TV, get so drunk he says something really embarrassing? I’d pay to see that.
Beau is nothing like him. Beau is unfiltered, real, and raw. He’s rough around the edges, and maybe that’s what drew me to him in the first place. We met at the coffee shop where he held a job for a small amount of time before he went through something at home, which he never really confided in me about. He stopped coming to work and got fired.