~ 2

Chapter 2

~ Kesley ~

Niklaus Specter.

The CEO of SpecterTech was sitting right across from me. The man who could give me my dream job thought I was a gum-chewing, card-snatching lunatic named Taraji Gilbert.

I was screwed. Completely screwed.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. My palms were sweating. I felt like the walls of this fancy restaurant were closing in on me.

But wait. I forced myself to breathe. Think rationally, Kelsey.

My chances of getting hired were basically zero anyway, right? I mean, they probably got hundreds of applications. Thousands, even. SpecterTech was one of the biggest tech companies in the city. What were the odds they'd pick me, a fresh graduate with no real experience, over all those other applicants?

And even if by some miracle I did get hired, what were the chances I'd ever run into the CEO? 

Companies like SpecterTech were huge. Massive buildings with dozens of floors. He probably stayed in his fancy top-floor office with its panoramic views and expensive furniture, while regular employees worked ten floors below, hunched over computers in cramped cubicles.

CEOs didn't interact with entry-level employees. That's just how it worked.

Plus, I was wearing enough makeup to disguise myself as a completely different person. Foundation three shades too dark. Eyeshadow thick enough to be visible from space. Lips painted bright red like a cartoon character. He'd never recognize me without all this.

I just needed to finish this date quickly and get out of here.

"So," Niklaus said, his voice smooth and professional. He picked up the menu, his movements precise and controlled. "What would you like to order?"

Right. Food. We were supposed to order food like normal people on a normal date.

Time to go big or go home.

"Do you have anything strong?" I asked loudly, making sure my voice carried across the table. "Like, really strong alcohol? Whiskey? Vodka?"

His eyebrows rose slightly but he stayed calm. Too calm. Like nothing could rattle him. "They have an excellent wine selection…"

"Wine is boring." I waved my hand dismissively, nearly knocking over the water glass. "I need something that hits hard, you know? Something that'll get me drunk fast."

I saw a couple at the next table glance over at us. Perfect.

I looked around the restaurant dramatically. "Hey, do they allow smoking in here?"

Now he looked genuinely surprised. He put down the menu slowly and stared at me, those blue eyes fixed on my face.

"This is a very exclusive, reserved restaurant," he said slowly, carefully. "No, they don't allow smoking."

"That's annoying." I slumped back in my chair like a teenager. "I really need a cigarette right now. Like, really badly."

He leaned forward, his blue eyes focused entirely on me now. The intensity of his gaze made my stomach flip. "You smoke?"

"Oh yeah. All the time." I nodded enthusiastically, maybe too enthusiastically. "Cigarettes, cigars, sometimes pot too."

I waited for him to be disgusted. Waited for him to make an excuse and leave. That's what any normal person would do, right? Especially someone as polished and professional as him.

For a second, he just stared at me. Then he laughed.

Actually laughed.

It was a short, surprised sound, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

He reached up and scratched his forehead, shaking his head slightly, and I noticed how his hair fell perfectly back into place.

"According to your card," he said, picking up Taraji's business card from the table and examining it, "you're an elementary school teacher."

Oh. Right. Teachers. Children. Innocent young minds. Probably shouldn't be smoking pot around those.

Crap.

"Yep!" I said cheerfully, trying to recover. "I teach third grade. Eight-year-olds. They're adorable."

His eyes locked onto mine, and there was something in them I couldn't quite read. "And you smoke pot."

Crap. That did sound bad, didn't it? Teachers were supposed to be role models. Upstanding citizens. Not pot-smoking party girls.

But that was the point! I needed him to think "Taraji" was a complete disaster. A terrible match. Someone he'd never want to see again.

"Well, yeah," I said with a shrug, committing to it now. "What I do in my free time is my business, right? The kids don't know. I'm not high at school or anything."

Oh God, why did I add that last part? Now it sounded like I'd actually considered being high at school.

He was still staring at me with this weird expression. Like he was trying to figure out if I was serious or completely insane. Like I was some kind of puzzle he couldn't quite solve.

The silence stretched between us. I could hear the soft classical music playing in the background. The gentle clink of silverware on plates from other tables. The low murmur of sophisticated conversation.

Time for the final move. The one that would definitely end this date. The nuclear option.

I started shifting in my seat, squirming a little. I bit my lip and touched my thigh, running my hand up and down nervously, making it as obvious as possible.

Niklaus watched me, his expression changing from confused to... amused? Was that amusement in his eyes? A slight curve to his lips?

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his voice dropping lower.

Here goes nothing.

"It's just..." I squirmed again, making it really obvious. "I'm feeling really... you know... hot."

"Hot?" He tilted his head slightly.

"Yeah, like..." I lowered my voice but made sure he could still hear me clearly. "My body is just... throbbing. You know what I mean?"

His eyebrow arched slowly. He said nothing. Just watched me with those intense blue eyes.

Okay, go bigger. Make it so uncomfortable he has to leave. Make it impossible for him to want a second date.

"I'm really horny right now," I said bluntly, looking him straight in the eye. "Like, I need to have sex. Soon. Raw and rough, you know? Just really…"

"I think we're done here."

His voice was cold now.  The amusement was completely gone. His expression had changed entirely — his jaw was tight, his eyes hard and serious. He looked almost... angry?

That stung a little. I mean, I knew I was being terrible on purpose, but hearing him say it so firmly, with such finality, actually hurt. Like he was cutting me off. Rejecting me.

Which was ridiculous because that's exactly what I wanted. Right?

But mission accomplished, right? There was no way he'd ever want to see Taraji Gilbert again. Not after this disaster of a date.

He stood up, straightening his suit jacket with sharp, precise movements. "Do you have a car, or would you like to ride with me?"

"No!" I said quickly, jumping up from my chair so fast I nearly knocked it over. "No, I'll take a taxi. I'm fine. I actually have somewhere to be anyway. To, you know... satisfy my cravings."

I grabbed my purse, ready to run out of there as fast as my heels would let me. To escape this nightmare and never look back.

"That's where we're going," he said calmly.

I froze. My hand stopped mid-reach for my purse. "What?"

"To satisfy your cravings." His blue eyes were intense, unreadable, locked on mine. "Since you're so direct about what you want, let's not waste time. My car is outside."

Wait. WHAT?