Eyes on the Prize

Rainey

I couldn’t stop staring at the gorgeous man walking away from me. That was Michael Carrington? My almost-future boss? I remember seeing a small picture of him in the article I read and he was classically handsome, but he was even more attractive in person. And genuinely nice. His dark hair barely touched his shoulders and it looked incredibly soft. His eyes were so blue, like the ocean. He had seriously lucked out in the genetics department.

Hell. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to apply for the job. He was dreamy on a level I wasn’t used to contending with. He’d be professional, right? I wasn’t at all his type. I was homely. Comely. Just me. My thoughts shifted and I realized I’d pushed on his receptionist in front of him.

How long had he been standing there listening to me? I tried to think about what I said to the poor woman that had to put up with me. I hoped I didn’t say anything rude. Although if I had been rude, I doubted he would have given me the interview. Why did he give