3| Interview (Emma)

I was lucky to get that creature, however beautiful he was, out of my apartment in time for me to get ready and to the office in time for the interview. I changed into my pencil skirt and red blouse quickly and dried my hair before pulling it into a side ponytail, hiding the hickey left there that was darkening by the minute.

I spritzed myself with my perfume and slipped on my flats and grabbed my bag before heading out the door. I never have any issue catching a cab here, in fact, I have made friends with a good number of them and they know me by name.

The cabbie pulled up to the office building and I had a good twenty minutes left until my interview was scheduled for, so I decided to meander and take my time, looking at the beautiful architecture and design of the building.

The front had one of those revolving doors that always gives me a tinge of anxiety when I approach it, along with the two regular doors on either side, and the front area with the bell desk and security was large and polished.

The floors were white and squeaky clean, they almost looked like they had glitter on them because they sparkled so much.

There were pillars that matched the flooring and the ceiling was a good thirty feet high with a chandelier smack-dab in the middle looking like it was made of gold.

I smiled at its beauty, clean and polished, just as it should be for a designer's office building.

After admiring the building, I went to the directory on the wall and found the correct floor and office number that I needed to be at, I found it said, “Greene Designs, LEVEL 9.”

I went to the elevators and selected level 9, checking the time on my phone and seeing that it was now 6:45 AM, not too early to seem eager, not too late to seem a slacker, it was perfect.

Once off the elevator, you had no choice but to turn left and there was a receptionist's desk there, “Hi, I’m Emma Anderson and I have an interview with Mr. Greene at 7.”

“Hi,” the receptionist greeted me with a wide smile, “just through those doors there is the conference room, Mr. Greene will join you when he gets here,” she motioned to the room that I needed to be in, “and my name is Mindi, if you need anything, just holler,” she seemed very friendly.

He wasn’t here yet? That’s odd. Then again, it makes me look good if I’m here before the boss.

“Thank you,” I smiled at her and went into the conference room.

I chose a chair that faced the windows that looked out towards the receptionist desk and elevators, expecting that I might get a look at this guy before he enters the room.

People talk about how handsome he is, and I asked myself if I wanted to interview for a job where my boss would be a distraction. Kay told me with a chuckle the night before at the bar, “You could end up working for a guy that you spend all your free time eye-fucking,” she had no filter, and it got even worse when she’s had a few drinks in her.

I chuckled at the memory, and after a few minutes, I noticed the light coming from the window and turned around to watch the sunrise.

It’s rare to find a building that faces the sunrise perfectly here, but this window was pretty darn close, and the view was spectacular.

My fingers were fiddling with each other as I waited, and I tried to not think of the guy from last night and this morning, but it was hard, he made quite an impression. Was it a good one? No. I still can’t believe that I brought him home, I never do that! Kay can vouch for me.

I heard the door open and turned around expectantly for the man who was supposed to interview me, but instead, I found the creature from my bed this morning, showered and well dressed.

I couldn’t help the “oh, fuck me,” that escaped my lips and I hoped that he didn’t hear me, but he definitely did.

“I believe I already have,” he smirked the same smile from this morning when he asked if I liked what I saw.

My skin raised goosebumps and I had no idea what to say or do. Was he my interviewer? Should I run away? I stayed silent and my heart skipped a beat when he took a step closer, putting out his hand to me.

“Matthew Greene,” he introduced himself.

Oh fuck.

I hesitantly put my hand out and shook his, “Emma Anderson.”

I can’t believe this was the guy that I drunkenly hooked up with last night, who called me a whore this morning, twice, and I had to practically force out of my apartment just an hour ago after he insisted that I was checking him out with a smug look.

“Pleasure,” he tilted his head with that same damn smile that was so charming it was annoying.

He sat at the end of the table and I took my seat after him, I needed this job, so running away was not an option. As he turned to look at me, the sun from the window was shining on his emerald-green eyes and making them shine brighter than before. If I thought that they were hypnotizing before, they certainly were now. I almost didn’t hear what he said.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, embarrassed.

He smiled and chuckled slightly, “Tell me why I should hire you.”

‘You shouldn’t’ I thought to myself.

“Uh, well, I have a great work ethic, I’m a people person,” he smiled mischievously at that and leaned back in his chair, putting his chin in his hand, “I am a hard worker and I’m good during a challenge,” I put my index finger up and corrected myself, “I thrive during a challenge.”

Matthew narrowed his eyes at me and hummed. I was waiting for another question or some type of verbal response to my answer but none came, and I noticed his eyes move towards my neck.

“Why is your hair like that?”

I looked down at my ponytail that was draped over my left shoulder to hide the hickey, then I looked out the window and saw that every woman’s hair here was in a bun.

I turned back to him and smiled innocently, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that a bun was expected,” there was no sarcasm in my voice, and feared that he picked up on some regardless.

He was still leaned back in the chair and he crossed his legs, one foot over the other knee, and he spoke again, “Pull it up.” It was a demand more than anything and I was taken back by it.

“Right now?” My voice was flat.

“Yes, right now, and you can walk out with it up, and I expect you to wear it up every day that you’re here.”

I lifted my eyebrows, “Does that mean I got the job?”

He stayed silent for a moment longer, then spoke gently, “Pull it up.”

I knew exactly what he was doing. He knew he left a love bite there and that I was trying to cover it up to be professional, but he was the one to give it to me, so there was no hiding it from him, but now he wants me to flaunt it to the rest of the office?

Do I really want this job so bad that I would be willing to be given a horrible nickname the very first day I show up here? I can only imagine what they would call me if anyone saw.

The look in his eye was mischievous, but I could tell that he was growing impatient.

“You said that you thrive when you’re challenged,” he tilted his head, “did you lie?”

I sat up straight and tightened my lips as I glared at him. I took a deep breath and looked out the window to the rest of the office, maybe this won’t turn out as bad as I feared.

I exhaled sharply and took the hair tie out and threw my hair behind me, combing it with my fingers to put it neatly up high and then twisting it into a bun, avoiding all eye contact with him during the process.

I swallowed and looked over to him now, and he looked exceedingly pleased with himself, he was playing lightly with his bottom lip with one finger of his. I felt gross and embarrassed, and my defense when I feel this way is to be snarky, so I said to him,

“Like what you see?”

He smiled wide, his finger still at the corner of his mouth when he responded, “Very much so.”