4| Interview (Matthew)

She was snarky, and I was totally turned on. I could absolutely tell why I chose this girl last night, she’s a fun one, and we were going to have a lot of fun together.

My last assistant, I slept with, but I also slept with her younger sister, and so she quit. The few assistants that I’ve had before that, all of them I’ve landed, and all of them left because they fell for me and I’m not about that, and I’ve already had a night with Emma, so I guess this makes it four for four.

Might as well hire her, if I’ve slept with her already, she will probably be an easy land in the coming time, and then she will think she’s in love with me and quit when I turn her down, it seems to be a cycle here. I give the girl a year.

I cleared my throat, remembering my thought this morning, “I apologize, for earlier,” she looked at me and tilted her head slightly, was she playing dumb like we didn’t wake up in the same bed this morning? “When I called you a whore.”

Emma’s mouth opened and quickly shut like she had a snarky comment but decided against it, then she smiled and said, “It was an honest mistake,” she shrugged, “but I would like to clear things up that I am not, in fact, a whore,” she enunciated her words, making sure that she spoke clearly and that I got her point.

“Mhmm,” I grinned and narrowed my eyes at her. I don’t believe it for a second.

They’re all whores, they all go out and take a new guy home every night, sneaking around like thieves. I don’t believe in monogamy, especially after the girls I’ve been with. I’m twenty-eight, and I decided my dating life was over years ago after a handful of bad relationships with these whores like her.

They’re all the same, nothing special, I hardly even see women as people anymore, they’re all just sex toys to me now, nothing else. No one has ever proven me wrong about them all being whores, so I continue to think such a way.

“I am not!” She raised her voice slightly and glared at me with a piercing look. Her eyes were brown, golden, almost, and I thought that she was cute when she gets upset.

I interlaced my fingers and let them rest on my torso when I responded, “I seem to remember something you did last night that would be considered contradictory to that statement, Ms. Anderson.”

She took a deep breath before responding, “That… was something that I have never done before,” I chuckled internally, ‘I’m sure,' she continued her explanation, “my roommate took me out because I was nervous for this interview and we got a little carried away is all,” she shrugged at the end.

“I see,” I responded and twisted back and forth in my chair slightly as I looked at her.

She seemed to be getting uncomfortable, “Mr. Greene, is this going to be alright for me to work here after what happened? I mean, do you think we can be professional?”

I opened my hands with my palms up and told her, “This is professional, you, me, seated at a table and speaking like adults,” she nodded her head to me, but I wanted to have a little fun with her, “what would be unprofessional would be me having you sit on my lap during the interview,” her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide but I kept going, “or if I bent you over the table and took you here and now,” I placed the tip of my finger on the table in question and Emma sprung up from her seat.

“Mr. Greene! This is sexual harassment!” She exclaimed, just quiet enough for no one outside the room to hear.

“Oh, come on, I’m just having a little fun,” I chuckled at her and moved my head from one side to the other.

She looked baffled and put the chair back in place, holding onto the top of it, “I will not work in a place where I am looked at as if I am an object,” she seemed fuming mad, “I am a woman who deserves respect, and if you can’t give me that, then I will not work for you.”

I was taken back by her backbone that I didn’t know she had, and raised my eyebrows, “I’m impressed.”

Emma exhaled the breath she had been holding and looked at me, anger still filled her eyes and her jaw tense, but she didn’t move. I stood up from my chair and pushed it back in.

“You start tomorrow. 7 AM, I’ll see you then.” I left the room, leaving the door open for her as I walked to my own office down the hall.

My office has a window next to the door that looked to the hallway, and I peeked out of it once I shut my door. I saw her leaving the conference room, I noticed that she was wearing flats instead of heels which surprised me, and she had pulled her hair back down and put it in the side ponytail again to block her neck from anyone’s view, I chuckled.

I wonder if she is actually going to show up tomorrow? If so, will she keep her hair up as I told her to? If she doesn’t come, that means that she didn’t really want the job, and in all honesty, I think I would be kind of upset if she didn’t show, I was having so much fun teasing her.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t actually fantasizing about doing those things that I mentioned to her as my examples of unprofessionalism. Emma is a beautiful woman, and I really wish that I remembered last night, but it only fueled my craving for her more.

I sat down behind my desk and opened up the laptop there, reclining in my chair as I looked out the window again, a part of me hoping that she will reappear and we would have amazing office sex, but sadly she didn’t, and I was left with only my imagination for the time being.

Staring out the window and letting my imagination take over for a bit, I imagined her tall figure walking towards me, her long brown hair twirled up to show off her slender neck, her shirt unbuttoned just one too many for modesty showing off her cleavage and her skirt shortened, high enough to give me easy access.

I wonder why she chose flats instead of heels today? Maybe once she sees that every woman here wears heels along with their hair in a bun, she will start doing the same.

I loved that look, it’s simple, professional, and showed off a woman’s best attributes and slims her legs at the same time, it’s a win-win for everyone, in my opinion. They feel confident and I feel like I have an office of babes surrounding me.

Besides, I’m at fashion events every other week and I’m seeing things that inspire me constantly, I don’t want anyone to wear something that I think is obnoxious that would distract me from my creative process – this is why we have a dress code: pencil skirt, single-colored blouse, hair in a bun, heels, and light makeup – the perfect palate.