“Yes. The position comes with amazing benefits too. Health insurance, life insurance, 401（k） with matching contributions, lots of paid time off, all kinds of perks.”
“It sounds like the only drawback is the person I’d be working for.”
She waves a hand in the air, smiling like a model in an infomercial. “Who knows? Maybe you two will hit it off immediately.”
Her fake smile doesn’t fool me. “Uh-huh. Or maybe I’ll want to throw myself out a window after a week.”
After a beat, she says, “Yeah, that’s more likely. But—and this is a big but—if you can make it through a year there, you’ll be able to write your own ticket for a position in any other company.”
“Why do you say that?”
This time, her smile is genuine. “Because everyone in the industry knows his reputation.”
“Jesus. Who is this guy, Genghis Khan?”
Ignoring that, she says, “So what do you think? Should I email you the job details?”
“I don’t know, Emery. I don’t want to get myself into some kind of hostile working environment.”
“Oh, he’s not hostile!”
When I narrow my eyes at her, she relents. “Okay, he’s hostile. But it’s not personal. He’s that way with everyone.”
“This is sounding less and less appealing by the second.”
“That salary is pretty appealing, though, isn’t it?”
When I make a doubtful face, she keeps trying to convince me.
“I think the problem with the other people it didn’t work out with was that they weren’t prepared for his…forceful personality. But I’m telling you, so you can go into it with a different perspective.”
“It sounds like you know this guy pretty well.”
“I do.”
“Would you work for him?”
“Oh God, no, I’d kill him before lunch on the first day.”
“You’re doing a terrible job selling this position.”
She names the ridiculously high salary again, dangling it out there like a carrot.
“What company is this job with?”
“I can’t tell you.”
I lift my brows. “Why not?”
“They’re very private. Which reminds me, you’d have to sign a nondisclosure agreement before going in for an interview. And if you got the job, there’d be another NDA.”
“Are they the Mafia or something?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it. Then, very seriously, acting as if she’s telling a big fat lie, she says, “No.”
I burst out laughing. “Okay, now I’m intrigued.”
Looking excited, she grabs my arm. “Does that mean you’ll interview?”
“No, it means you can email me the job description. It probably won’t be a match for what I’m looking for, anyway, but we’ll start there.”
We head to the register. Emery rings up my purchases while I write my email address on the back of one of her business cards. I give it to her, we say goodbye, and I head home.
By the time I get there, Emery has already sent me an email with the position’s details.
I read it over, growing more surprised by the moment.
It’s exactly what I’m looking for. The duties, the responsibilities, the growth potential…they’re all a perfect fit for me.
Absolutely perfect.
And she wasn’t kidding about the benefits package. It’s so generous, it doesn’t seem real. Combined with the astronomical salary—double my current pay—it’s a temptation I can’t resist.
I email her back saying I’d like to interview for the position.
Thus sealing the fate that first curled its dark tendrils around me the night of Chelsea’s birthday.
Cole
It’s been four weeks since the night at the hotel with Shay. It feels like four lifetimes.
I haven’t been able to get her out of my mind. She lurks in my thoughts all the time, always ready to distract me with a memory of her smile, her laugh, her moans.
Her loud, lusty moans as I fucked her.
The bar where she walked up to my table is the place I’d visit several times a week after work to decompress. I’ve avoided it since.
I know what would happen if I saw her again.
I’d take one look at those gorgeous green eyes, and my fate would be sealed.
So, to protect us both, I drink at a different bar now. I sit alone, people-watching, pretending I’m not secretly hoping she’ll walk through the door.