Chapter 2: The Interview

Avery

Avery pushed her body away from him, pinning a few strands of her light blonde hair behind her ear. She dared not look into his lake-blue eyes. She couldn't trust her instincts with this man. Her ruffled senses needed a quick reboot, otherwise, she might just lose her virginity to a total stranger in the back seat of a taxi.

She smoothed her gray skirt and adjusted her tucked-in white shirt, replacing her glasses on the bridge of her nose. Peering down at her wristwatch, she exclaimed. "Goodness! I'm late!"

She collected her purse and folder and jumped out of the taxi. Rounding the curb, she ventured toward the entrance to the tall, glassy building. The stranger alighted from the vehicle, heading towards the magnificent structure.

This is it. Her mother's life depended on this single shot. She was about to take her leap of faith when the taxi driver called her back.

"Who's gonna pay?" He shifted his gaze from Avery to the man. "I gat no time, fellas. Customers are lining up for Big Sam, you know."

"He's paying/ she's paying," they uttered simultaneously.

The taxi driver had never been more confused in his life. To him, they were the worst customers he'd ever given a ride to.

Avery spoke first. "You heard him clearly when he claimed the ride was his. He should be the one to pay up. Besides, no man in his right senses will expect a lady to pay for a taxi they both shared."

The stranger glared daggers at Avery, but she returned his venom with a poison of her own. She's not close to him now. Her defense had returned, and she could think straight without fleshly interference.

"Pay up, man." The driver glanced up at the man from his seat.

If looks could kill, Avery would be six feet under the ground. The man fished out his wallet from his suit pocket and rolled out a note into the driver's waiting palm. Avery didn't wait for the exchange. She had just five minutes before the expiration of the interview.

She darted into the reception hall, clomping toward the reception desk. "Excuse me," she managed a courteous smile. "I'm here for the interview. Where do I need to go?"

The slender brunette didn't spare Avery a glance. She had her pointed nose buried deep in the monitor in front of her. Her breast spilled out from the top of her tight shirt, unable to hold the top buttons close.

"Fifth floor, second office to your left."

Avery wheezed a thank you and dashed toward the elevator. She tapped the elevator button and took a step back. Various thoughts crossed her mind. She'd prepared long and hard for the interview by reading through every bit of information about the fashion house, from the history and growth of the company to the landslide successes it has recorded over the years.

Three more minutes. Darn it!

The elevator door chimed open, and she rushed in. Just as the elevator door was about to slide shut, the stranger stepped into the reception hall.

The receptionist sprang to her feet at once, beaming with ecstasy. "Good morning, Mr. King," she beamed, flaunting her boobs in his face. He paid her no heed, heading straight for the adjacent elevator.

Wait a minute. Did she just address him as Mr. King?

He cannot be him, right?

It's impossible. Michael King donned a beard, but the stranger was clean-shaven. She agreed that they might have a few things in common, but it couldn't be him.

She hit the '5' button on the control and reminded herself to hold the banister provided inside the elevator. Elevators made her head spin, and she hated it. But the spin in her head now had more to do with the handsome stranger than her phobia for elevators.

The elevator door opened onto a busy floor. She shoved the thoughts aside and focused on what lay ahead. The offices were partitioned with fortified, transparent glass. Portraits of Michael King were scattered about the wall to create aesthetics.

The man was the perfect definition of drop-dead gorgeous. Sometimes, she touched herself in the bathroom, thinking about him. And many times, she had to caution herself to stop because she's a conservative virgin with an understanding boyfriend.

"Second office to the left," she recalled the direction from the unwelcoming receptionist. She knocked lightly on the glass door, quivering with suspense.

"Come in." A gruff voice responded from inside.

She stepped into the office, forcing a smile. "I'm here for the interview."

The overweight, bald man behind the desk tilted his glasses below his nose. Avery shifted on her feet as the man's bulgy eyes crawled over her body from her feet to her face, wetting his oversized brown lips.

"You're a minute late." He said it a matter of factly.

"I- I'm sorry, sir," she stuttered. "I met with a-"

"Hand me your folder," he cut her off. His eyes were fixated on her breasts.

Avery took out her résumé and credentials from the folder and placed them on his table. She pushed back one of the visitors' chairs to sit on.

"Did I ask you to sit?" he scowled.

Avery sprang up, hugging her purse. "I'm sorry, sir."

His expression softened. "I'll let it pass because you're a beautiful girl. Don't do that again. Understood? What you're taking with kid gloves is what other people are dying for out there. Survival in Empire City is not for the weak."

She promised to keep it in mind. "I'll be more careful next time," she nodded to his satisfaction.

"You can have your seat now." Avery hesitated, but slipped into the seat after the man urged her to. He skimmed through the papers, nodding his head like an agama lizard. "It's written here that you topped your class as a valedictorian."

"Yes sir."

"You even graduated with perfect grades. That's good."

Embarrassment washed over her. "Yes sir."

He returned the papers to his desk and stared long at her. "That's what the paper says. I need to test you on what you have up there," he said, tapping his temple.

"I'm ready, sir," Avery replied, crossing her fingers on her lap.

"In what year was the Great Wall of China completed, and how many years did it take to finish the project? Also, what are the names of the building contractors that built the wall?"

Avery was dumbfounded. She was expecting him to ask her questions about the company, not some current affairs about China. She knew when the wall was completed and the number of years it took for it to be completed. But how the hell was she to memorize the names of the building contractors?

"Excuse me?!" She furrowed. "What does the Great Wall of China have to do with my job? This is a fashion house for Christ's sake." Her temper was getting in the way.

"I know your type. You sell your bodies to your lecturers for marks and favors to deceive the world into thinking that you graduated as a valedictorian. I've had my share of frauds like you."

I'm done taking his shit in my face. I banged my fist on his desk and got to my feet. "I'll not allow you to insult my personality, Mr...whatever. I came here in search of a job, not to be drilled for a quiz." She snatched her papers from his desk. "You have no right to talk to me in that manner.

Avery pivoted to the entrance in a fit of rage when he called her back. "All right, girl. Take a chill pill. It's all part of the test." He gritted, exposing a set of brown teeth.

She turned on her heels, glaring at the man, before making her way back to the chair.

"I'm Mr. Brown, by the way," he said, pushing his chair backward and rising to his feet. "It's all a show to test out candidates. You see, this great establishment rose to the top because of the diligence of every person here." He rounded the desk to where Avery sat, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"I'm not lazy, Mr. Brown. And I have the good of the company at heart." She surmised.

In a low tone, Mr. Brown said, "You look like someone with a lot of problems. I can help you solve them. I can even work your way to the top in a couple of weeks. Play with me, and you'll kiss your old life of poverty goodbye forever."

"All right, Mr. Brown. Let's cut to the chase." Avery was aware of his gimmicks, but she played along, stroking his ego. "What's the catch?"

"Ms. Sallow, right?" When Avery nodded, he continued. ''You're not a kid anymore. In this life, you give what you have to get what you want."

"I don't quite follow, sir."

"Mr. Brown would do just fine, Avery. I can call you by your first name, right?"

"Whatever turns you on, Mr. Brown," she smiled, enjoying the act.

He laughed in a creepy manner that left Avery's skin crawling. "I know you were playing games with me. I'll cut to the chase, as you said." In hushed tones, he continued, "I can arrange a night in a hotel for the both of us. No one has to know. We'll have a good time toge-'

Wham!

Avery sent a resounding slap across his face and bounded out of his office without a word. She was done listening to the garbage spewing from his tobacco-infested gums.

Good riddance!

"Say goodbye to this job, Ms. Sallow!" he raved. "I'll make sure you never step foot anywhere near this floor!"

Avery was out of earshot, and her only hope of saving her ailing mother.