CHAPTER SIX

THE INTERVIEW

Part One

Ethan knocked once and opened the door.

"Mia. He's here."

Mia kept her eyes on the paper in front of her. She had read the same line four times.

"Send him in."

Ethan didn't move. "I can stay."

"I know you can."

"I'd like to."

This time she looked up. "Ethan. It's fine."

He held her eyes a second longer. Then he stepped aside.

Alexander walked in. He still walked the same way, back straight, like the room was already his. But the suit was old, and it hung a little loose on him. He stopped in front of the desk and waited.

Ethan shut the door behind him. Slowly.

"Ms. Carter," Alexander said.

Mia almost smiled. In three years he had never said her name like that. Back then he said "Mia" when he needed something, and nothing at all when he didn't.

"Sit down, Mr. Vale."

He sat.

She picked up his résumé. One page. It looked like it had been written by someone who never needed one.

"This is short."

"I've never applied for a job."

"Never?"

"My father gave me my first office."

"I remember." She put the page down. "Why are you here?"

"I need work."

"Lots of places are hiring."

"Not for me."

"Tell me the truth, Alexander."

His jaw tightened. "I went to forty-one companies. Some wouldn't see me. Some saw me and said no. A few laughed."

"And you came here."

"A man I once threatened told me you were hiring."

"Daniel."

"Yes."

"He's a good man."

"He is."

She waited. He said nothing else. It felt like the old office for a moment, the same silence, except now she was the one holding it.

"Do you know what I did after I left Vale International?"

"No."

"I couldn't pay rent for two months. I slept on a friend's couch and sent out forty applications."

"Mia…"

"Ms. Carter."

He nodded. "Ms. Carter."

"Nobody called me back. Not one." Her voice stayed flat. "So I know what you're feeling right now. I'm not saying it to be cruel. I'm just saying I know."

"I'm not asking for pity."

"Good. You won't get any."

He almost smiled. It didn't last.

"Let me ask you something," she said. "What can you do?"

"I can run a company."

"Not this one."

"I know."

"Do you? Because I've seen your face when someone tells you no. You don't take it well."

"I've taken it forty-one times in three weeks."

"That's a start."

He let out a breath. It was almost a laugh, and it surprised him.

Mia stood and walked to the window. She didn't want him to see her face for the next part. Down on the street, the cars looked small and slow.

"If I say yes," she said, "it won't be like what you're used to."

"I didn't think it would."

"You won't have an office."

"All right."

"You won't have a title."

"All right."

"You'll take orders from people who used to wait for yours."

There was a pause behind her.

"All right," he said again, quieter.

She turned around. He was sitting very straight, hands on his knees, like a man waiting for a verdict.

"You haven't asked what the job is," she said.

"Does it matter?"

"It should."