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54| A JOB INTERVIEW

DICE

Liya just looked down at her clothing and then back up at me like nothing was wrong with it and I was just a maniac. Everything was wrong with her outfit.

"Is this how you intend to dress to work every day?" I barked at her and she frowned deeply.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing? It's literally a formal wear?" She defended, with both hands on her hips. Her hip dips was the sexiest thing about her figure, and she had the guts to come out here and flaunt it for the whole world to see. What if someone got the life-threatening idea that they could have her? Blood would spill; that would surely be the end result.

"That skirt is too fucking tight. And why do you have two goddamn buttons of your shirt loosened?" I questioned, completely forgetting about the work I had in hand. She looked down at her clothing again, then back up at me and frowned deeper.

"Are you my interviewer?" She asked out of the blue.

"No." Came my reply. She breathed out in what seemed like relief, then asked,
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